War Horse

There’s a scene towards the end of Steven Spielberg’s War Horse set in a ghostly No Man’s Land featuring nothing more than a horse snared in wire, a pair of wirecutters, and a simple, moving dialogue between an English soldier from Tyneside and a German soldier from Hamburg. It lasts no more than ten minutes, but it is perfectly wrought- a pivotal and powerfully understated moment that transforms this film from just another Spielberg war blockbuster to one that might just stand the test of generations. This is classic Spielberg back at his best: a brief moment of ceasefire that aligns itself closely with the very human element of the war- the individual losses that brought a generation to its knees. And screenwriters Lee Hall and Richard "Love Actually"  Curtis definitely spare no prisoners with their sentimental script - it's calculatingly emotional, reducing you (well, me anyway) to tears at all the right moments. Critics have branded it too schmaltzy- the tear-jerking script and saturated hues of the countryside scenes deliberately angled like arrows to the heart. These critics should just trot on. For me, War Horse clears all the jumps, humanising the war without any bloodshot or gore. What a relief, too: those who have seen the play might wonder how the film ensures the horse, Joey, remains the story's very heart. The book does it with his first-person horsey narration, the play does it with magnificent equine puppets. Of course, the film has neither but what it does do is to superbly explore the human bond that draws each character closer to Joey. In this sense, it's actually more like E.T. than Saving Private Ryan- we all understand why the characters seek comfort and love with Joey during a terrible time of war. Dreamlike, powerful, and sweeping- the breathtaking cinematography achieves much more than the stage production, effectively developing the story of one horse's odyssey through the First World War into a moving account of individual loss and a simple bond of love. Some might find the golden sunsets a little too obvious, and at times the story strands feel a little too episodic. For all that, though, this is a classic- the cast effectively delivering a heartwarming tale filled with tears and laughter (special mention has to go to the naughty goose, lovingly nicked from the play). And whilst at over two and a half hours long, Spielberg certainly goes the distance, I still say it's worth every bottom-numbing minute. I mean, you'd have to have a heart of pure, solid stone not to even be a tiny bit bewitched by the beautifully-trained horses.