I admit it. I’ve always been one to cry at the movies. I can tear up while reading a book or even occasionally a newspaper account of some tragic event.
And I tend to cry a lot watching horse races. The ones where the horse I like is beaten by a nose. And those where a 20-to-1 long shot comes from behind with a blazing stretch run to squeak past the favorite. Not because I’ve lost a bet. I don’t bet because I’m a sore loser, and besides, for me, betting spoils the drama, the heroic effort, the beauty of thoroughbreds doing what they’re bred to do.
And sometimes they fail.
I sobbed sitting on the floor in front of my television set when Ruffian broke down and again later when she reinjured herself recovering from surgery and had to be put down.
So it was without shame that I tucked an extra few tissues in my pocket Friday on the way to see “Seabiscuit.” At first, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to go for fear Laura Hillenbrand’s beautiful book would be “Disney-fied.” But I changed my mind after watching Charlie Rose’s interview with the film’s principals: writer/director Gary Ross and actors Jeff Bridges, Gary Stevens and Chris Cooper. Ross went to extraordinary lengths to give authenticity (jockey Chris McCarron helped) to the look and feel of the film about a misunderstood little horse that captured the imagination of a nation gripped by the Great Depression. Casting Hall of Fame jockey Stevens in his first acting role as legendary jockey George Woolf was a bold stroke that paid off handsomely.
The story didn’t need a schmaltzy Hollywood treatment. It already had everything going in. The owner, the trainer, the jockey all had suffered deep personal and economic losses. It’s easy to understand how they would have a special feeling for this crooked-legged little horse who was bred to win (a grandson of Man O’ War) but had disappointed his breeders and trainers from the start. He was a loser. But these guys knew all about losers. They knew that a bit of talent, a ton of courage and a great heart can make up for a few shortcomings and some rotten luck.
I grew up on horse books. My favorites were collections of short profiles of famous racehorses and jumpers by C.W. Anderson, whose graceful charcoal portraits of the champions complemented tales of their quirky personalities and unusual paths to fame. In “Black, Bay and Chestnut” (Macmillan, 1939), Anderson sketched both Seabiscuit and War Admiral, whose match race at Pimlico is considered by many horsemen to be the most perfect race ever run. In the film, this race is so beautifully shot that, even knowing the outcome, I held my breath and clutched my knees all the way to the wire.
Hillenbrand’s book, likely the most meticulously researched and gracefully written story about any sport, chronicles Seabiscuit’s rise from the lowest level of the cheap claiming races, to his establishment as an American cultural icon. Ross’s adaptation reverently preserves the book, adding documentary black and white film clips and narration that is never intrusive but adds just the right historical context. Superb photography by John Schwartzman and editing by William Goldenberg heighten the drama and the very real dangers that jockeys face every time they step in the irons. Oh, and Randy Newman’s score is perfect.
This is one case where I doubt anyone will say the movie isn’t as good as the book. After all, they didn’t just buy the rights to a best seller then hire a dozen scribes to rewrite the script. But if you haven’t read it yet, go see the film first. Just so you have no preconceived ideas about how you think it should look, or if the filmmakers took liberties with the story. And so you’re not waiting for this or that incident from the book, which can be a distraction. Even though you may know the results, the stats, the whole sports line even the history you can free your mind to allow the film to unfold in its own way. Savor the look and feel of it.
Remember this is not “Black Beauty” (a few scenes are brutal and one is in a Tijuana bordello) so leave the kids home.
Oh, and don’t forget the tissues.