Kristin Reviews War Horse
If I were to make a list of things I do not find entertaining, ‘terrified animals’ and ‘horses so tangled in barbed wire they are unable to move’ would be high on that list.
And, while we’re making lists, here are some things I don’t consider standard ‘family-movie’ fare: terrified animals; horses so tangled in barbed wire they are unable to move; and graphic trench warfare.
Assuming War Horse is a family film, which I am doing based on the epic-warm-your-heart trailers and the Christmas Day opening, it is a distinct failure. As a movie for people who love animals, or horses in particular, it is also a distinct failure. War Horse is about war, and it succeeds spectacularly as a movie about the horrors of war . . . which is, of course, fun for the whole family. Merry Christmas, everyone!
War Horse is an episodic narrative with a horse for a main character. Joey (that’s the horse’s name) is born in the opening scene, and, in case the audience doesn’t find ‘colt standing up on his wobbly legs for the first time’ enough to emotionally commit to Joey, a scene in which Joey hurries back to kiss his mommy goodbye before going to his new home cinches it. Spielberg’s movie-magic has the audience wrapped around Joey’s hoof from frame one. In particular, the three little girls watching the movie with their mother at the show I watched were enchanted. (I could go off on a tangent here about parents taking their children to see movies without making sure those movies are appropriate first, but I’ll leave that for another time.)
The “story” is about a main character who cannot make decisions – at least not the sorts of decisions that drive a movie. The characters who could make decisions are also unable to do so due to age or rank; they appear just long enough for us to briefly connect, only to disappear when the horse moves on to another episode in his journey. Which gives us about two hours of horrific events occurring around vulnerable and powerless people and animals. The result is a gut-wrenching sense of utter helplessness.
The happy Hollywood ending, with its too-vivid-to-be-real, Technicolor sunset and swelling, heart-warming music is far too little too late. The images that precede it, with their trenches, and deaths, and explosions, and animals being worked, literally, to death, have drained any sense of “happy ending” from the tale. I came home, not with Joey’s return to peace and the boy who loves him warming my heart, but with Joey’s terrified sprint through a field of barbed wire entanglements haunting me.
-Kristin
1.29.2012
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