War Horse

The play opens with an army officer sketching the scene before him, his etches transcribed on a parchment backdrop in grey and black strokes. From that first moment, those first sketches, and that first introduction to a rambunctious foal, the audience is introduced to a world of stunning, yet somehow familiar, visuals. The frolic of a young horse, the rolling hills of some unknown Anglo countryside, the sweet melodies of an Irish lilt, all transform the Orpheum into an idyllic respite from the outside world. Just as our young heroes, horse and boy alike, are shielded, briefly, from the pains of the war to come, so the audience is coaxed into a gentle amazement of that little foal and the powerful beauty he becomes.

Joey, our equine hero, has all the personality of his human actors, with each emotion magically translated by the artists behind his puppetry.  The flick of an ear, the swish of a tail, it's amazing how much can be communicated by the simplest of movements. But with these tiny conversations, Albert, our human hero, falls in love with his spirited horse and the audience isn't far behind.

For those of you who may have seen the movie based on this play and ponder the merit in seeing the movie's inspiration, just trust me. Where the movie was explicit and literal, the play is figurative and magical.  The violence of war is almost more disturbing and emotional in the play setting because the audience is so actively engaged in the struggles of our heroes.  The crash of bombs, the bloody consequences of war, the audience is reminded over and over again how impossible our heroes' story is, how preposterous Albert's dream to recover his dear friend. Where the movie made this apparent in the somewhat tired rehashing of battlefield mayhem, the play establishes with a contraction of Joey's tired legs, a sinking of Albert's shoulders, and the incessant marching of both toward death or miracles.

The cast is strong and somewhat supplementary to the stars of the show, the horses. The exception would be Albert, whose fierce devotion to Joey is part of what builds the horse's power for the audience. We all sit in Joey's saddle, we all ride him through the field, and we all feel his heartbreak when boy and horse are divided by circumstance. There's a sense that this, this child-animal connection, should be sacred from the perils of war. This, at least, should be protected. But that's part of the play's strength.  That sacred bond may not protect either hero from the experience of violence, but it protects them from death, sustains them for their reunion. And the entire cast expertly supports the audience's experience of that bond, allowing that love to be the true star of the show.

War Horse is a must-see, a magical, heart-tugging experience that will leave you uplifted and in awe of the power of theater. It plays at the Orpheum through June 23rd.

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