The Best Version of War Horse

I’d like to dedicate this post to my late landlord who recommended the movie to my family.

My first “real” blog post^[1]I also did an introductory post for this blog that has mysteriously disappeared. Sometimes the ways of WordPress are beyond me. was about a movie based on a play that was based on a book. Actually, the movie was something of an adaptation of both the play and the book, reinstating elements from the latter that had been cut from the former. This blog post will probably be my last “real” one^[2]I’ll also be doing a farewell post of sorts., at least for a long time, so I’d like to close with something similar.

It occurs to me that if you’re a fan of the theatre, you’re probably not a big fan of The Adaptation Station.com. I’ve gone on record as loving the 2012 movie Les Misérables more than I love the stage play, though I’m a fan of both, since I believe it does a better job of telling the story. And while I consider the original stage play Into the Woods better written than the 2014 movie^[3]Though both were written by James Lapine., I’d rather rewatch the movie that the 1999 filmed production-ProShot, I believe, is the technical term-of the play with the original Broadway cast since, with the exception of Meryl Streep vs. Bernadette Peters, I enjoy the movie actors’ performances more. In my defense, I did write a very positive post about the 2000 ProShot of the Peter Pan musical-well, the part of the post about the 2000 ProShot was very positive, not so much the parts about the 1960 and 2014 versions.^[4]I’d also probably recommend the 1999 ProShot of Oklahoma! over the 1955 movie. Theatre fans should appreciate that.

It’s probably not a surprise then that I like the 2011 movie War Horse better than Nick Stafford’s award-winning stage play. What may be a surprise to people who know me well is that I even like it better than the original book by acclaimed children’s author Michael Morpurgo. Coming from a book lover like me, that’s a real compliment.

I should stress though that each telling of the story has its charms. I like that the character of Ted Narracott (Peter Mullan in the movie), alcoholic father to Albert (Jeremy Irvine) the English farm boy who is the titular horse’s original owner^[5]Well, his first owner to be a real character in the story anyway. Technically, he must have been owned by someone else before being auctioned off at the beginning., has a character arc in the book. In the play, he remains unsympathetic throughout despite Albert’s mother Rose (Emily Watson)’s speech in his defense. In the movie, he’s sympathetic throughout despite all the decisions he makes that hurt his family. In the book, he starts out as a negative figure but is implied to have redeemed himself by the end.^[6]Of course, since the entire book is told from the horse’s perspective, we barely see any of this character arc, but I like the idea. The book’s version of the story is probably the one which makes the impossible plot elements, like Joey a half-thoroughbred being able to plough a field, plausible.^[7]The steed has many different owners and names over the course of the story but I’m calling him Joey because that’s the one he gets at the beginning even though it’s weird for me … Continue reading While all three versions are about the horrors of World War I, the stage play is probably the darkest and grittiest if that’s what you like. The play’s elaborate horse puppets are also able to act and create characters in a way that even the most well-trained film horses can’t and they’re just some of many great stage effects the play boasts.

So why do I like the movie best? Well, I love the soundtrack by John Williams. For all the iconic scores he’s composed, I actually find this one to be the most beautiful. But the stage play also makes good use of music and it’s not fair to hold it against a book that it doesn’t have any. The movie’s first act, which takes place in the countryside of Devon, boasts some beautiful scenery. But it’s also not fair to criticize a stage bound for its lack of realistic scenery and readers of the book can imagine the setting to be as beautiful as they wish.

Casting Jeremy Irvine as Albert in the movie, even though he wasn’t a big-name star at the time, was a very wise choice. A big-name star might have felt it was beneath him to direct serious speeches to a horse. But Irvine, likely because he was so thrilled to be working under Steven Spielberg at this early point in his career, never condescends to the material and completely sells his character and his bond with Joey. If Albert hadn’t been well cast, the movie-well, it might not have been entirely doomed from the start. The story focuses on whoever happens to own Joey, which includes several characters of various nationalities over the course of the war. But the movie would have had to work harder to gain my attention if Albert weren’t convincing and endearing right from the start. Still, there have also been many fine actors who have portrayed Albert onstage and reading the book, you can imagine Albert as well as you wish, so that’s not a great justification for favoring the film either.

No, I think the reason I consider the movie adaptation of War Horse the best version is because of the script by Lee Hall (Billy Elliot) and Richard Curtis (Four Weddings and a Funeral.) For example, there’s the way it writes the character of Emilie (Celine Buckens), the French girl who cares for Joey during the middle part of the story. In the book and the play, she’s mostly just cute. The movie ages her up a bit and makes her endearingly sassy too. “I was in love with a boy called Francois who had your lovely eyes,” she confides in Joey in one scene. “Unfortunately, he was in love with a girl called Marie who had your teeth. She fell for a boy called Claude who broke my heart and who I intend to marry one day.” You’ve got to love her!

While Emilie’s section of the movie does provide a nice break from the story’s general gloom and doom, more so than it does in the book or the play, it still has some well-done sad moments related to the Emilie’s physical frailty and the absence of her parents.^[8]It is sort of annoying that the film never explains exactly what happened to her parents though it teases the question. Oh well. Nothing’s perfect.

Warning: If you’re not familiar with the story, the rest of this post is chock full of spoilers. The movie also has the best written version of the climax^[9]Well, it’s the climax in the play and the film. You could argue it’s a bit before the climax in the book. in which Joey is tangled up in barbed wire in No Man’s Land and two soldiers from opposite sides, a Welshman and a German, work together to help him. Here’s how Morpurgo portrays their meeting.

“Now what do we do?” (the Welshman) said, walking toward us and looking at the German who stood head and shoulders above him. “There’s two of us here and one horse to split between us. ‘Course King Solomon had the answer, didn’t he? But it’s not very practical in this case, is it? And what’s worse, I can’t speak a word of German, and I can see you don’t understand what the hell I’m talking about, can you? Oh, hell, I should never have come out here, I knew I shouldn’t. Can’t think what came over me and all for a muddy old horse too.”

“But I can, I can speak a little bad English,” said the older man… “I speak only a little English-like a schoolboy-but it’s enough, I think for us.” And even as he spoke, I felt a rope slip slowly around my neck and tighten. “As for our other problem since I have been here the first, then the horse is mine. Fair, no? Like your cricket?”

“Cricket! Cricket!” said the young man. “Who ever heard of that barbarous game in Wales? That’s a game for the rotten English. Rugby that’s my game and that’s not a game. That’s a religion, that is-where I come from. I played before the war stopped me and in Waldes we say that a loose ball is our ball.”

“Sorry?” said the German, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. “I cannot understand what you mean by this.”

“Doesn’t matter. Not important, not anymore. We could have settled all this peaceful like-the, the war, I mean-and I’d be back in my valley, and you’d be back in yours. Still, it’s not your fault, I don’t suppose. Nor mine, neither come to that.”

As you can see, the two men speak in the same friendly/confessional tone that all of Joey’s owners in the book speak when they confide in him. (Part of the inspiration for War Horse came when Michael Morpurgo and his wife were part of a charity that allowed urban children to spend some time on farms, and he overheard a troubled boy with a stammer speaking fluently in private to a horse.) What works well in that context doesn’t work as well in this one. Anyway, after they agree to flip a coin for the horse and the Welshman wins, the scene concludes in much the same vein.

“In an hour, maybe, or two,” (the German) said, “we will be trying our best again each other to kill. God only knows why we do it, and I think He has maybe forgotten why. Goodbye, Welshman. We have shown them, haven’t we? We have shown them that any problem can be solved between two people if only they can trust each other. That is all it needs, no?”

The little Welshman shook his head in disbelief as he took the rope. “I think if they would let you and me have an hour or two out here together, we could sort out this whole wretched mess. There would be no more weeping widows and crying children in my valley and no more in yours. If worse came to worst, we could decide it all on the flip of a coin, couldn’t we?”

“If we did,” said the German with a chuckle, “If we did it that way, then it would be our turn to win. And maybe your Lloyd George would not like that.” And he put he put on hands on the Welshamn’s shoulders for a moment. “Take care, my friend, and good luck. Auf Wiedersehen.”

The play, in my opinion, improves upon this by having the German unable to speak English and the two of them communicate by pantomime. This is entertaining and moving in performance, but the movie’s version really takes the cake if you ask me.^[10]Maybe I just haven’t seen the right productions of the play. Colin (Toby Kebbell), a Geordie, by the way, rather than a Welshman, arrives long before Peter (Hinnerk Schonemann) the German but realizes too late he hasn’t brought any tools to free Joey from the barbed wire. Suddenly Peter appears before him, offering wire cutters. Unlike in the book, where the two become friends almost immediately, there’s a bit of initial tension in the air. But it quickly dissipates as they work together to free the horse without hurting it more.

Colin: You speak good English.
Peter: I speak English well.

Instead of unburdening their souls to each other all at once this is how they talk.

Colin: So how’s things in yonder trench?
Peter: Delightful. We read, we knit sweaters, and we train our rats to perform circus tricks.
Colin: Well, if you ever need any more rats, we can send some of ours over. ‘Cause we’ve more than we need, strictly speaking. Besides they scare off all the pretty girls.
Peter: Our girls aren’t afraid of rats.
Colin: Big strapping German girls, eh? The kind what give robust massages?
Peter: Every Thursday and they bring rum cake on your birthday.

This banter, in which more is unsaid than said, feels a lot more believable than the touchy-feely dialogue Morpurgo gives these characters. I wouldn’t say their conversation in the book couldn’t have happened in real life. But in addition to being funnier, the movie’s feels more like real life to me, making it more touching.

The tension between the two has mostly dropped but it resurfaces briefly and ultimately harmlessly when the time comes to decide with whom Joey goes.

Peter: Since my side supplied the cutters, the horse is mine. This is fair, no?
Colin: In a pig’s eye! He’s English, plain to see.
Peter: Oh, you mean because he’s so filthy?
Colin: Because he’s so smart! And you’re none too clean yourself.

Only after they decide to whom Joey belongs with a coin flip, do they acknowledge that their job is to try to kill each other and that each could be killed at any moment.

Colin: Gone quiet now, hasn’t it?
Peter: Yes, but wait half an hour and we’ll be shooting again.
Colin: I’m a terrible shot, Pete. Don’t believe I’ll ever hit the target.

Compared to this, their dialogue in the book feels heavy handed and, honestly, clunky. The movie trusts the viewers to see the antiwar message for themselves without having the characters ask aloud why they can’t just be friends or why disagreements between nations can’t be resolved as peacefully as this one.^[11]In the book’s defense, it was narrated by a horse who wouldn’t be thinking about such things. Maybe under that circumstance, Morpurgo felt having the characters spell it out was the only … Continue reading

While the resolution of the story is pretty much the same in each version^[12]Although there is a subplot from the book that was sadly cut from the play but happily reinstated by the film, I enjoy the way the movie handles it the most. Famously, after the first World War, many men were left cynical and disillusioned and what makes the character of Albert so appealing is his childlike innocence. We don’t want him to end the story cynical and disillusioned, but it wouldn’t be credible for him to emerge from the War unchanged. The movie resolves this beautifully in the last speech we hear him give to Joey, when it looks like the horse will be going home with someone else. “Don’t be worried, boy, when I go,” he says. “I won’t worry over you none. Hey, I found you, didn’t I? And you found me. And we’ll both know we made it through.” On the one hand, Albert is being mature as he hasn’t gotten his way but is being calm about it anyway. On the other hand, he’s talking to a horse like it understands him, showing he’s still the same old Albert. It’s a highly satisfying ending. And hopefully that’s a satisfying ending to my blog too.