EN’s British correspondent lec took the time to tell us about her viewing of War Horse, and other matters relating to the emotional power of equine cinema. Thank you for writing, lec, and thanks for reading!
Equine Films
I have a secret confession. I never cry. Nothing will break the wall of steely self control that I have over my emotions. Except for one thing, brave horses.
I mentioned this to my work colleagues, one laughed knowing it was probably true and the other was slightly incredulous and asked me if a horse putting out a fire would qualify. I told the students at work and they thought it was fantastic especially with War Horse being out. They were looking forward to the opportunity to watch me break down into a sobbing weeping mess that they could take the mickey out of for at least the next 6 months and possibly even the entire length of their time at college, pass onto Facebook and younger siblings.
There is something that stirs my emotions watching horses being brave. They are such noble creatures and ones who give so much heart in what they do as they trust the human on top to give their maximum effort. They have to be beautiful athletic horses – sorry but a fat coloured cob would not do it for me. The Grand National gets me especially the build up, also The Gold Cup. I am not sure why but flat racing does not stir my emotions as much as steeplechasing. Maybe it’s because I feel I ‘know’ these noble campaigners better from over the years of watching and following. The year Denman battled up the Cheltenham hill had me very emotional, Kauto Star’s recent win in the Betfair Chase. I still struggle to watch Desert Orchid win the Gold Cup in 1989! All of them had the right ingredients of bravery, wonderful horse and drama that makes me emotional.
Film wise I am pretty good but I struggle to watch the film Champions opening credits. It’s a combination of the music and watching the beautiful scenery of Aldaniti on the gallops. In fact I can feel myself wibbling just thinking about it. Everything about Aldaniti and Bob Champion ticks the box for the brave horse criteria. When I was a child I was even lucky enough to meet Aldaniti but he spat out the mint I offered him.
International Velvet also ‘gets’ me. Great music, brave horse and I guess there is always that secret yearning that you could be the one riding Arizona Pie, riding your homebred to success and getting away with being a spoilt brat. They say in all these NLP courses I have attended that if you are positive enough in your brain things will happen how you envisage. Well I spent hours and hours on my rocking horse Sam winning the greatest events in the world and I have still yet to go above Prelim level eventing.
Secretariat, wow what a horse on the track. When I want to see a magnificent horse I will still go and watch his Belmont winning race in 1973 on YouTube. He destroyed the field but unfortunately Disney destroyed the film. I quite happily sat through the whole film without a sob or even the feeling of damp cheeks.
Seabiscuit on the other hand did ‘get’ me. I cannot decide what it was – maybe it was that he was a little runt, maybe it was the jockey’s story tied in, the depression, better fashion or that it was just a better told story.
This brings me up to present day and War Horse. I had avoided it for a while as I was worried. My mother sobbed through the whole of the theatre production (though she is getting worse in her old age). My students reported back that they had sobbed and my work colleague informed me that she had to leave the cinema. EEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKK.
I asked a student about my predicament with brave horses and crying. Her suggestion – pretend you are blind and wear sunglasses into the cinema. I pointed out the error with this in that if I was blind why would I go to watch in the cinema?
I then decided I would man up and accompany 30 students to the cinema as we often go out for activities in my line of work. My feeling was that the thought of crying in front of 30 students would prevent the emotions from coming out.
I sat worried through the whole film. The ploughing scene nearly got me; I gulped a couple of times and survived. The galloping into machine guns I viewed through my hands, and the galloping through barbed wire. The final bit that nearly made me go was where the horse recognises Albert but a couple of gulps and phew I had survived. Reputation intact and able to take the mickey out of students who had not fared so well. I particularly enjoyed that one of my students who is a great big tough rugby player and agriculture student admitted to having a little tear (what this really means is he babbled like a baby!!)
–lec
