War Horse was a letdown exactly because I went in expecting a musical (dubious sources?). For the entire sitting I was gnawed by how little singing there was. The real tragedy of the night was the horribly misplaced violinist-singer who seemed to transcend time and space to offer a couple of words of wisdom (which the play should supply without her having to say it). I wonder if the point of this was to create a play-musical hybrid, the producers knowing full well that musicals do much better than plays at the box office.
Foregoing that blip, this play was a visual spectacle. The climax of the night came early, when the young foal, awkwardly dominated by its three puppeteers, turns into War Horse. The size and majesty of the transformation puts this play squarely ahead of the movie (rated 77% on rotten tomatoes).
Perhaps the best way to view War Horse is from a historical perspective. World War I marks the start of the 20th century as the old, imperial empires of history are dissolved amidst an unforeseen compendium of suffering. From the Guns of August, “In 1910, nine kings rode in the funeral of Edward VII of England, representing 70 nations in the greatest assemblage of royalty and rank ever gathered in one place and, of its kind, the last.” The battles of Verdun and the Somme, each with over a million casualties changed all that. The first battles of the war in Belgium did indeed involve a cavalry charge. They were replaced with trenches, mustard gas, machine guns and tanks. In the play, this was aptly shown with Joey (the horse) in direct confrontation with one of the Empire’s new tanks. Indeed, the era of horses ended. Their obsolescence began much earlier but the post WWI world had no place for them.
What a wonderful crucible then for a story about the bond between a boy and his horse. Unfortunately, some of it was unconvincing (“we’ll always be together!”). The foray into German territory was a good idea but the play loses the perspective of the horse as in the book. Joey is taken care of by a German officer (“Fredrick”) who pines to be with his wife and daughter (“Sophie”). Where Fredrick’s love for Sophie comes into the picture and how the war horse has anything to do with this is unclear to me.
The story admirably avoids the war-guilt premise ascribed to Germany and instead blames high-power politics. This becomes apparent in the barb-wire scene where white flags from both sides of no man’s land are waved and respective wire cutters flip a coin to decide ownership of Joey.
Where the play lacks in believability it makes up in the reality of the puppet horses. It is indeed the visuals that keep the play going. Add in the WWI backdrop, it may be worth a watch.