“Everything you are about to see is real!” Elf Lyons exclaims as the show opens. The play, we’re told, will commence when a real live horse is brought onstage at the Hetzel Room in the State Library.

Tall order for indie theatre, but then, astonishingly enough, a horse does arrive onstage — expertly balancing on its hind legs and speaking fluent English.

This horse is named Treacle, and they have collected recordings of their fellow horse friends retelling their most treasured memories. Then, with the magic of shadow puppetry, mime, and a fair amount of studied trotting, Treacle stages the key tragedies of horse history, stretching back into the classics and forward into the Grand National. Throughout, they project a buoyant physicality that might be impressive for a human performer, but is fairly stock standard for a horse.

Elf Lyons is a dynamic and uncompromising theatre-maker. Her shows have attracted a cult following in Edinburgh and around Australia for several years, with lively, absurdist leanings that still maintain a precise logic. When we hear that Treacle tried to engage Pegasus for an interview, we were regrettably told that as he only speaks Ancient Greek, Treacle was unable to secure funding for a translator. Likewise, Secretariat (being American) turns out to be a conspiracy theorist and rants constantly.

At the core of Horses is the loss of innocence, and the gentle audience interactivity serves to promote an atmosphere of a playdate for adults. The framing of an implausible verbatim theatre piece serves a meta-theatrical point, which is outlined by Lyons in the latter half of the show. Quoting moral philosopher Peter Singer, “we have to speak up on behalf of those who cannot speak for themselves”, there is real compassion in Lyons’ anarchic turns.

Yet, for all the artifice of a theatrical polemic on equine rights delivered in character, straight from the horse’s mouth, Lyons’ work ultimately succeeds in inviting us to indulge in an almost child-like sense of imaginative play.