War Horse and the ghost sign

We saw this today. It is a ghost sign. Sort of. This one has been repainted, so I guess it doesn’t really count as a ghost anymore. Maybe it’s more of a zombie sign? Anyway, we saw this and something told to take a photo of it…It must have been my subconscious reminding me of the play we would see later in the day: War Horse. I have just remembered this photo, this moment, and my heart has been re-torn into so many pieces.

If that play doesn’t turn the hardest heart into melted butter, then nothing ever will. There is just so much in the play: there is commentary on life and death, there are jabs at the fallacies of war, there are jibes at the folly of man and mixings of technology and nature. In sum, this play has all the elements to make one simultaneously sneer, question existence, and cry simultaneously. And that’s exactly what I did.

Probably the favorite of these moments was when Albert was crying over Joey while his mother was crying over the deaths of the young men from the village (i.e., his mother was crying over the poor lost souls of young men while Albert was crying over a horse). His mother yells at him, naturally. How could he cry over a stinkin’ horse when those poor people were losing their lives? But on the other side, how could she not mourn the horse, who was forced into the war?? Those young men volunteered for their service, and thus for whatever fate may give them. I’m not saying mourn Joey instead of the soldiers, but both deserve equal recognition, certainly.

There was far more to that play than this blog post can let on. Thankfully there were moments of humour set in the play, or I’d have been a wreck when leaving the theatre. Seriously, if you ever get the chance, see this play, preferably in a London theatre. Even if you are afraid of crying, think you won’t cry, whatever, see this play.