Equus

Equus
By Peter Shaffer. Nomadic Artists / Sydney Fringe. The Forum Theatre, Italian Forum, Leichhardt. September 12 – 28, 2013.

Martin Portus has the unenviable task of carrying the didactic weight of this sometimes tortuous, but always compelling, play. As Dysart, he must lead the audience through scenes that are physically and emotionally confronting – and the labyrinth of psychological insights that explain them. Dysart’s character is complex, and from his opening soliloquy to the anguish of his final words, Portus sustains both the strength and intensity that is essential in this exacting and physically demanding role.

Equus is just as confronting for its cast and its audience as it was when it opened fifty years ago. Not only does it require nudity, a sex scene and actors portraying horses, but it delves into the complexities of the psyche, of sexuality, of religious and societal constrictions and the psychology of violence. It plays on the emotions, asks questions, and suggests some unpalatable answers.

In the hands of director Michael Campbell, on a very cleverly designed set, the cast of this production does the play and its playwright proud.

Michael Bridley plays Alan, the teenager brought to Dysart by the judge who has heard the case against him for callously blinding a stable of horses. This role requires emotional strength and professional courage and Brindley is compellingly believable as he finds all the complexities that Shaffer has written into the role: the intelligence that lies behind his childish responses; the naivety that has been destroyed; the torment and confusion that remain.

The supporting cast is similarly committed. Lyn Lee as Hesther, the concerned, warm-hearted judge; Jeanie Gee as Alan’s religious, loving but bewildered mother; James Moir as his pedestrian, pedantic father; Brinley Meyer as Jill, who innocently leads Alan into a physicality that pushes him too far. All are very real – and as such make the fantasy of the horses that oversee every minute of the action believable.

The six actors who play the horses –Lucas Glover, Anthony Finch, Sam Xu, Chris Combes, Haj Sidki and Drew Miatov – suggest the power of these proud beasts through sustained stillness and small, carefully coordinated reactions. To watch for so long, waiting for a word that triggers a slight response, is physically demanding, yet their brooding presence creates the essential atmosphere of the play.

There are some wonderful images in this production, but the most stunning, the one that will remain longest with audiences, is Alan’s thin, naked body lying on the stage, his head cradled on Dysart’s knee, framed by a pyramid of fallen horses. This moment symbolises the essence of the play, and it typifies Campbell’s thoughtful and insightful direction and choreography.

There is little to be faulted in this production – set, costumes, direction, acting, and sound work and work well. So too does the clever lighting of the horses and of some of the more pivotal, central scenes. However the lighting across the front of the stage, where so much of the exposition of the play occurs, often leaves actors in shadow at moments when the importance of their words and their reactions need to be re-enforced by seeing more clearly the intensity of their expressions.

This niggardly criticism notwithstanding, the production is a fine tribute by a very talented, hard working cast and creative production team to one of the most courageous and intense plays of the twentieth century. 

Carol Wimmer

Photographer: Liam O'Keefe

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