30th April 2019
I didn't know much about Equus before I opted to review it at Northern stage. I knew it was about a young man who committed heinous crime, I knew it involved nudity and eroticism. I knew this because of the furore that followed the announcement that Daniel Radcliffe was to take the lead role shortly after finishing his stint as the saviour of the world in Harry Potter. I suspect that most people - none theatre people, I mean - if they are aware of this play at all, are aware of it because of this. I admit that it was partly Potter-induced curiosity that led me to raise my hand when the offer of reviewing Equus came up. I was curious to see what all that fuss had been about, had it been justified or was it all just media fuelled hysteria with little substance. I wondered if the cast of this production felt pressured by the play's recent history. And so I arrived not knowing much, not certain that the little I did know was accurate, and feeling just a little trepidatious. I really was not sure what to expect.
floor with the appearance of velvety texture - a dappled horse hide, perhaps? And in the corner a small brown clad figure. Martin Dysart, child psychiatrist. The best in the field and, as it turns out, a man on the edge. Martin, already over stretched, takes on the case of Alan Strang, a boy who has committed a terrible crime and it is through his eyes that we learn the truth, as he gently, patiently uses his psychiatrist's tricks to draw Alan out. He talks to the boy, to the parents, to his friend the magistrate who brought the boy to him and gradually secrets are revealed. Not just Alan's secret, but those of his parents and of Dysart himself. this story is as much about the doctor as it is the patient. As he unravels the mystery of the boy's actions, we see that he himself is unravelling, questioning the very core of his being, the validity of his skill, of his profession. The doctor is as chained as the horses, as much a prisoner in a world of his own making as the boy is. Both are trapped, and as the boy gradually breaks free from his prison, Dysart seems pulled deeper into his own.
The play is full of religious imagery and symbolism. The jealous, vengeful gods, demanding worship
and sacrifice and yet capable of bestowing the most agonising joy, a spiritual and physical ecstasy. It shows how the extremes and contradictions of life, and love and devotion can influence an impressionable mind, and how imagination and fantasy can blur reality, with tragic consequences.
The play is compelling, and disturbing, unutterably beautiful and unsettling, painful and sensual. I have rarely been so entranced by a performance, so completely absorbed by it - I realised as the first act drew to a close that I had been actually holding my breath and sitting so still for so long that the movement and noise of the audience as the curtain came down felt almost intrusive.
Was my trepidation justified? Not at all. There is no shocking sensationalism. There is a painful and sad story, an horrific act by a desperate boy, and a powerful and moving portrayal of the events and characters involved. Powerful, moving, compelling, beautiful. None of these words adequately describe the experience that Ned Bennett has created for this English Touring Theatre production. It is sensational for all the right reasons.
Equus runs until Sat 4th May.
Denise Sparrowhawk
