Spielberg could have surfed and cruised, instead he is diving deep.
Spielberg always makes me cry. And I am happy to. Back when I was a kid and now that I am a kid. The adapted screenplay by Lee Hall and Richard Curtis walks the standard reliable route with an incredibly engaging pace that is actually boosted by the premise itself. Covering multiple short stories that packs an emotional punch in every single one of them, the makers found it easy and helpful to place these shuffled cards into narration with rich details and overview perspective to the bigger and the smaller picture. Yet, I didn’t find myself buying to any of those tourist spots genuinely up till Steven Spielberg, the director, came in and added his final magic touch.
And it is not his selection of the cinematographer, background scorer or the choreographer of the film, but the awareness that he invests in each scenario. This story was also told in a theater as a play and Spielberg’s translation of that play into the screen that makes it look like a play is the unsung triumph of all. Watch how carefully in all the stages, he makes us, the audience, a witness of that part of the storytelling.
You start feeling like you were present the whole time when it went down. Tom Hiddleston giddy up about Benedict Cumberbatch’s views on the horse, Eddie Marsen’s secondary concern fabricated as the first one and Niels Arestrup’s weather debate with his granddaughter, not only these elements help move forward the storyline nice and smooth but puts some personal weight and unfathomable price to it. For a film to jump from one character to another, I was looking forward to see how Spielberg is going to make us fall into this world, he moved towards his best asset, he personified, he animated the common factor, the Warhorse.