Equus

Horses and Boys and Men, oh my!

Much has been talked about - "Harry Potter gets naked." and all that but that is not why I went to this revival of a 1970s play on social norms and conformity. I went because I love plays. I didn't know how much I love live theater until a friend of mine and I went through last year's Playbill cards and I realized I'd seen almost all but two of the plays from last year's season. Yikes! No wonder I'm still single.

Equus starts strong. It starts with a psychiatrist (Richard Griffiths) recounting some details about a new patient's (Daniel Radcliffe) case. He starts to dig into the dark and judgmental analysis of his young ward of sorts, since he is being held in an institution, but he breaks to start from the beginning. A court representative (Kate Mulgrew) rushes in and basically begs or cajoles the doctor to take this new patient - a disturbing case where a seemingly normal and shy young man violently attacks a group of horses in a stable one night. The first half is brillient in its restrained writing, relying on action and witholding, and the fabulous staging. They use men as the horses, standing tall on metal hooves and dressed with metal heads but very embraceable in body given their dark brown form fitting shirts and jeans. When the boy (Radcliffe) leans into their mass, he comes right into where the horses neck, and broad shoulder would be. The effect is very sensual and powerful. The stage is set in the semi-round with an audience looking down from above. Minimal stage blocks exist to be moved about by the actors to reflect the next scene and the wood wall columns easily transform into stable stalls. The mystery is set and like the props, the story unfolds to try to get at what happened that fateful, bloody night. The second act becomes more preachy with two very overt lectures from the doctor. While well written, I found them too demanding and narrow an interpretation of societies inability to accept, even worship, that which it can't conform to it's norms. Worship is a strong theme throughout the play. When the boy truly strips naked, literally and figuratively, is when the mystery is revealed and motives are, if not understood, at least exposed. Sex, religion, Oedipal issues, authoritative oppression, generational disconnect, community structure, and many more social struggles come colliding. While I may not agree with all that the doctor comes to believe in his own struggles to heal the boy while hating himself for destroying the boy's passion, it does make for some very charged entertainment.

And on a strange side note, I was have some marvelous dialog with three very interesting and engaging gay men seated in front and next to me. One noticed the artwork adorning the wrapped balconies at the Broadhurst Theater - Romanesque men riding and leading horses! Interesting.