War Horse

Every week my husband and I have what I call an {interior date} when we ditch whatever we would normally do past Kam’s bed time, like sewing in my case, and we snuggle up on a sofa and watch a movie together. Occasionally, we go to a movie theater. Whenever it’s my husband’s turn to pick a movie I get anxious because it definitely won’t be anything from the safe zone (= comedy) … it will most likely be action (blood and shooting), or science fiction (blood and unrealistic shooting), or drama (tragedy combined with blood, or shooting, or both). Last night it was War Horse by Steven Spielberg, described on the War Horse website as an “epic adventure” anda tale of incredible loyalty, hope and tenacity”, AKA a tissue-necessary drama. It’s taking place during the World War I so if you have read books by Erich Maria Remarque or similar you can tell the battles won’t be pleasant to watch. But forget the battles. The horse and his journey will tear your heart apart. From the moment the horse got sold away from the boy until the end my cheeks didn’t get a chance to get dry. And while I soaked in my misery my husband seemed to be enjoying the movie. I guess it was a great movie and I can see that it deserves the “epic adventure” and “a tale of incredible loyalty, hope and tenacity” attributes and I encourage you to see it, unless you (like me) got affected by birth and a termite commercial makes you cry.

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