When we think of adaptations of C.S. Lewis’s ''The Chronicles of Narnia'', the latest buzz often revolves around Netflix’s upcoming productions. But, as news about the movies and series remains quiet, I decided to dive into something from the past—specifically, a stage adaptation of ''The Horse and His Boy'' (HHB) that was performed in 1990. After all, while I can't experience these productions live (being both from another time and country), I could certainly explore them through their scripts.
The script I read was for the 1990 play ''The Horse and His Boy'', adapted by Glyn Robbins and published by Samuel French LTD. This particular adaptation was performed by Vanessa Ford Productions at the Charter Theatre in Preston on September 25, 1990, before being staged at the Lyric Theatre in Hammersmith. The cast included Kieron Smith as Shasta/Cor, Felicity Duncan as Aravis, Stephen Omer as Hwin, and Robert Neil Kingham as Bree.
After reading through this script, I felt it was a solid adaptation, but with some noticeable quirks and challenges that made it an intriguing piece to analyze. Let’s break it down.
Condensing the Story: The Struggle to Balance
One of the most apparent features of this script is its condensation of the original HHB novel into a short, stage-friendly format. While this is a necessary choice for any theatrical adaptation, the effect is mixed. The play remains mostly faithful to the book’s plot, but several key details are trimmed or altered for the sake of simplicity, and some elements become confusing due to the lack of a full cast.
In particular, the script has to account for a shortage of actors, which leads to several character combinations. A big example of this is the merging of the character Rabadash with Ahoshta, the man Aravis is being forced to marry. Ahoshta, in the book, is an older, unattractive man, but in the play, he is reimagined as Rabadash, who in the book and this script a handsome, younger prince. This transformation introduces a significant plot hole—Rabadash, in the play’s version, seems to be set to marry multiple women at once, including Aravis and Susan Pevensie, which does not align with the book’s narrative.
The merging of these characters, while perhaps a necessary choice due to actor constraints, introduces confusion. In the book, Aravis’s escape from her unwanted marriage to Ahoshta is driven by her fear of a terrible fate, yet in the play, this urgency is lost. She doesn’t need to escape anymore since Rabadash’s intentions have shifted. The play also introduces an additional Tarkeena (a noblewoman of Calormen) who is vying for Rabadash’s affections, making the whole situation even messier. The result is a muddled plot where it’s hard to track who is trying to marry whom, and why.
The Problem with Shasta’s Unicorn Confusion
Another point of confusion stems from Shasta’s storyline. In the book, Shasta has a pivotal moment where he speaks to a unicorn and learns about an impending attack on Narnia. In this adaptation, however, Shasta’s worry about how to inform the Narnians lingers throughout the night, yet later in the script, he casually mentions that a unicorn had told him about the attack. The unicorn conversation is referenced, but we never actually see it happen on stage, making it feel like a missed opportunity to connect the dots.
While this could be chalked up to the constraints of live theater, where not every detail can be shown, it feels like an essential moment that’s glossed over in an unsatisfying way. The script doesn’t provide enough clarity as to how Shasta knows this critical piece of information, leaving audiences in the dark (literally and figuratively).
The Unnecessary Rabadash and Aravis Marriage Plot
One of the major differences in this script, when compared to the book, is the portrayal of Aravis's unwanted marriage. In C.S. Lewis’s original story, Aravis's father arranges for her to marry Ahoshta, a man she finds repulsive and old. The play, however, complicates this by turning Ahoshta into Rabadash, a much younger and more attractive character. This transformation seems unnecessary, and in fact, takes away from the original story’s tension. Aravis’s defiance against an arranged marriage made sense in the book because of Ahoshta’s grotesque appearance and age.
If the character was simply omitted entirely and only mentioned by the other characters (as it was in the book), or even if the character of Ahoshta was played by someone already portraying another role (like perhaps the Calormen who owned Bree), it might have been easier for the script to flow more smoothly. As it stands, Rabadash's multiple engagements and marriages, as presented in the script, make little sense. Aravis would likely have been less inclined to go to such extreme lengths (such as running away or contemplating death) had she known that Rabadash was not considering marrying her at all. Not to mention Rabadash is young and handsome.
Overall Assessment
So, how does this script stack up overall? Despite its confusing moments and occasional contradictions, I still found HHB stage adaptation of 1990 to be an enjoyable read. There’s something charming about how the script retains the spirit of the original novel, even if the execution leaves a little to be desired.
If I had to rate the script, I’d give it a B+ or 6 out of 10. The play's reliance on a reduced cast leads to some convoluted character decisions that complicate the plot, but it doesn’t completely detract from the story’s core themes of friendship, bravery, and self-discovery. I’d definitely be open to watching a live performance of it, as I’m sure the actors and staging would help clarify some of the script’s more confusing moments.
One of the elements I appreciated in this adaptation, however, was that Aravis didn’t end up fighting in the final battle, as she did in an Australian version of the play. That decision kept the integrity of the original story intact, and I’m grateful for that.
How I Would Change It
If I had the chance to revise the script, I would suggest removing the need for a character to play a man engaged to Aravis (Rabadash/Ahoshta). In the book, Aravis’s aversion to this arranged marriage is explained primarily through her own feelings and her relationship with her father. We never meet Ahoshta directly—Aravis describes him as old, hunchbacked, and unattractive. Recasting him as Rabadash, who is not only handsome but also much younger, changes the dynamic too drastically. I believe the tension could have been maintained without making this change.
Additionally, the subplot involving Shasta's communication with the unicorn should be handled more clearly, either through dialogue or direct action on stage. As it stands, it feels like a missed opportunity to bring some of the book’s magic to the stage.
Conclusion
This 1990 adaptation of *The Horse and His Boy'' might not be perfect, but it offers a glimpse into how these beloved characters and stories have been reimagined for the stage. While there are a few narrative bumps along the way, the script still captures the essence of the original novel. For fans of the Narnia series who are curious about the many adaptations over the years, this play script is a fascinating piece of history that deserves a closer look.
In other news, we had our first blonde actress play Lucy in 1993 at Vanessa Ford Productions at the Royalty Theatre, I am gointg to try to find that script next. Her name was Eliza Chadwick, wish me luck, and I am hoping that we get our first blonde Lucy on film in the upcoming Netflix Production by Greta Gerwig.
