Review: “Equus”

Griffiths Makes Character Jump from Page to Stage

By Lauren Yarger
Once in a while, we’re treated to one of those rare theater experiences where a character makes the jump from the pages of the script to a full living and breathing person up on stage. Richard Griffiths’ portrayal of Martin Dysart, a psychiatrist who helps a troubled boy who inexplicably blinds six horses with a hoof pick in the revival of Peter Shaffer’s “Equus,” is such a performance.

Griffiths mixes Dysart’s genuine compassion for Alan Strang (Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter fame) and the desire to help him untwist the warped thinking that led to the tragedy with envy of the boy’s ability to lose himself in the worship of horses and a loathing of his own psychiatric abilities which will replace that passion with “normal.” In other renditions (although I didn’t see the original on Broadway in 1975 which won Tony Awards for Best Play and for Peter Firth who played Alan) Dysart usually seems more stuffy and uptight to give outer contrast to the inner turmoil of a man who doesn’t enjoy much of anything and would welcome a chance to feel passion. Griffith’s more slovenly appearance and almost nonchalant line delivery put a face on a man swimming in boredom, but who can’t end the foundering, either by grabbing a lifeline by embracing the life he has or by cutting loose and diving into the forbidden pleasures of a world like Alan’s. It’s theater at its best.

Also at his best is young Radcliffe, making his Broadway debut as the boy who has confused religion, horses and sex into one ugly blur and who’s desperately crying out for help. Radcliffe, with a haunting stare, skillfully portrays Alan’s wide range of emotions and whether he’s a 6-year-old boy experiencing the excitement of his first horse ride, a fully committed worshiper of the horse god Equus, a boy who hates his domineering and repressive parents (T. Ryder Smith and Carolyn McCormick) or a 17-year-old feeling the first pangs of lust for a girl (Anna Camp), we know what sickness, turmoil and anguish is in Alan’s mind and how he could have come to commit such a terrible crime. And this was Shaffer’s intent in writing the play: to try to “create a mental world in which the deed (apparently based on a true incident) could be made comprehensible.” In this, and under the direction of Thea Sharrock who wisely sticks to the original vision, the play truly is a compelling study, though 30-plus years have softened the impact of what were shocking issues (including nudity on stage) back in the mid ’70s.

Kate Mulgrew, as the judge who asks Dysart to take Alan’s case, seems uncomfortable and stiff. Lorenzo Pisoni gives a nice turn as a young horseman and as Alan’s favorite horse, Nugget. The horses, played by six men, are crafted by John Napier, who recreates his metal, skeletal horse masks from the original production. They walk on elegant metal hoofs that make them tower over the performers like a horse would. Movement supplied by Fin Walker is skilled in creating horses, but flawed when the movements are choreographed in what seems more like a Rockette drill number than a horse worshiping rite.

Simple functioning sets (including audience seated in a loft on stage) recreate Shaffer’s vision and brooding and ominous lighting from David Hersey complete the picture.

Christians also might like to know:

•Adult themes
•Full nudity
•Sexual acts depicted
•Alan develops a personal religion in which Christ and the horse God Equus become confused.