Spielberg stages these forays with breathtaking scope and detail, beginning with an astonishing set piece in which the British cavalry emerges from a wheat field, only to be met by German machine guns in an encounter that begins in glory and ends in carnage. By this time, Joey himself has made a friend, and as the two horses endure capture, escape, recapture and punishing labor carrying cannons up impossibly muddy hills, their agonizing trials take on the grievous symbolism of a secular passion play.

None of these episodes is more wrenching to witness than when Joey — in full gallop across a moonlit No Man’s Land — catches up in a ball of barbed wire, an excruciating predicament that “War Horse” uses as a foil for the opposing armies to find temporary common ground.

With the exception of Thewlis’s Lyons (who all but twirls his mustache when he demands the rent) and some German soldiers who are most decidedly not animal lovers, most of the humans Joey crosses paths with are caring and humane, from the sympathetic British officer (Tom Hiddleston) who promises the horse’s safe return to an indulgent French grandfather (Niels Astrup) who doesn’t mind having a horse or two in his farmhouse bedroom.

With its bucolic vistas, soaring music, high-keyed lighting and magical plot convergences, “War Horse” would be too grandiose and simplistically fablelike to take were it not for Spielberg’s masterfully constructed set pieces and the consistently steady human performances. More crucially, Joey proves to be a thoroughly charismatic protagonist, played here by 14 horses capable of tossing their heads, crumpling their legs and nickering expressively precisely on cue (credit is also surely due to Michael Kahn’s editing).

Spielberg has created an appropriate showcase for the magnificent creature that emerges, one that recalls the great movie horses of yore in a story guaranteed to pluck, grab and wring viewers’ hearts, but thankfully not break them.