War Horse

Oh, kids. We have some catching up to do. A weekend of marathon madness left me woefully behind, so I'm a step ahead of you in knowing when the good reviews are coming. And there is one coming. But not yet!

Let me start this off that by saying on Thursday, I was basically dead on my feet and the last thing I wanted to do was go see a three hour play about horses. Was I prepared then to give War Horse the benefit of the doubt? Not especially. Do I think that really affected how I feel about it in the end? Also not especially. It's a tough question though because the people around me LOVED this show. We're talking rapturous response. Endless ovation upon the conclusion. Palpable excitement. And me Scrooge-ing it up in the middle of the crowd.

As a man behind me helpfully stated as we were walking out of the theater, "It's about the horse, but it's so much bigger than that. It's about the war." Yes, sir, thank you for your penetrative consideration of War Horse. Now that you've said that, I can see that it is about both horses and wars. And really folks, that's about all it's about.

Kid with cantankerous drunk father ends up with a horse. He loves the horse. And I mean, he LOVES this horse. Was there a subtext there? Probably not. Did pretending there was and following along with it give me more pleasure than the play itself? Absotutely. So the horse is raised, and lo, it is a wondrous horse. Then comically alcoholic father almost loses it in a bet, but son is able to save it. Phew! Then cliched sad sack father sells the horse to the war effort. Oh noes! Son, loving this horse sooooo much goes off to war to find his horse. Son is, I'm guessing, autistic, as he seems to love ONLY his horse and not be able to manage any actual human compassion. Then again, this is a really, really awesome horse.

Cut to hours of the horse and the son in the war. Will hey find each other? Will they be reunited? Do you even have to ask? In a melodrama as trite and predictable as this, conclusions are pretty much foregone. Son and horse will reunite and live magically ever after. It's like a Nicholas Sparks novel if Miley Cyrus was played by a horse. (Insert your own jokes here).

Listen, the puppets are undeniably amazing. Even though you can see through them to the people literally inside manipulating them, there is a vitality and lifelike quality that can't be denied. So when the horses gallop across the stage or stand and shiver or slowly approach someone they don't trust, there is something deeply believable about them. And you will have ample opportunity to stare at them and to believe.

All the humans die, more or less. Tons of horses die too. Tragic. A small child is trotted out to exploit audience emotions because war is sooooo much worse when kids are involved. Especially little French girls named Sophie who also love horses. And oh, just wait until everyone on stage is supposed to be speaking different languages, indicated by incredibly bad French, German, and British accents. I'm convinced the script actually looks like this: "Zees ees terr-ee-bluh." "Bollocks!" "Gesundheit!" And the random Irish-y folk songs that happen throughout? I. Can't. Even.

I resisted from the beginning, and I found it easier and easier to resist as the show went on. This is one of those silly "boy and his dog" stories you can find in some easy-reader children's book, but it's blown up to epic stature. There are some mighty thin bones holding this up. For me, the whole thing fell down about 20 minutes in. But what do I know? Everyone else was gasping at the pretty.