Saturday, June 13, 2020

155. EQUUS. From my (unpublished) ENCYCLOPEDIA OF THE NEW YORK STAGE, 1970-1975


Peter Firth, Everett McGill.
EQUUS [Drama/British/Family/Hospital/Mental Illness/Nudity/Religion/Sex/Youth] A: Peter Shaffer; D: John Dexter; S/D: John Napier; L: Andy Phillips; MVMT: Claude Chagrin; P: Kermit Bloomgarden and Doris Cole Abrahams i/a/w Frank Milton; T: Plymouth Theatre; 10/24/74-10/1/77 (1,029)

If one discounts Sleuth, which is really a comedy-drama, Equus (by the twin brother of Sleuth’s author) stands forth as the most successful serious play of the seventies. Originally staged at Britain’s National Theatre, it came to New York with British actors Anthony Hopkins and 21-year-old Peter Firth in the leads and consolidated the former’s star status while making the latter into a rising star.

As directed by John Dexter, Equus emerged as a startlingly original mystery melodrama, with significant thematic underpinnings. It was staged in a theatrically enthralling, ritualistic manner that borrowed techniques from the avant-garde experimenters. The stage was empty of realistic scenery, containing only a raised, square, non-localized acting space and benches outside the square, and a curving set of upstage bleachers where a section of the audience could sit facing downstage. This arrangement—which a number of later shows copied—turned a Broadway proscenium playhouse into an arena theatre. Actors who were not in a scene sat waiting quietly on the onstage benches, another commonly repeated trope.

The horses that are a central component of the action were played by a half-dozen male actors wearing dark brown jerseys and slacks, with high metal hooves on their feet and horsehead-shaped wire masks that barely hid their faces. They moved in expertly staged mimic patterns created by Claude Chagrin.

Alan Strang (Firth) is a 17-year-old stable boy, son of a religiously devout mother (Frances Sternhagen) and atheistic printer father (Michael Higgins). Alan has committed the horrible crime of blinding six horses with a metal spike. After much prodding by a female magistrate (Marian Seldes), Dr. Martin Dysart (Hopkins), the overworked chief psychiatrist of a provincial mental hospital, has agreed to treat Alan and discover what led him to do the deed.

Anthony Hopkins, Peter Firth.
As the play progresses, layer after layer of the boy’s warped psyche is bared through the doctor’s various techniques until, finally, via the use of abreactive therapy, Alan reenacts the events of the fateful night in the stables. During the doctor’s gradual breaking down of the alienated boy’s defenses, his own inhibitions, dissatisfactions, and sexual frustrations are revealed. He comes to feel that his professional duty to cure the boy is in conflict with his growing belief that Alan’s passion is worth preserving, and that to make him “normal” in an admittedly “abnormal” world is to rob him of an authenticity and depth of feeling that he himself has never known.

The play’s extraordinary power to draw spectators into the psychiatric quest for answers was enhanced by a magnificent production, including a much discussed nude scene between Alan and a girl (Roberta Maxwell) who befriends him in the stables before he reacts guiltily to the presence of his beloved horses.
Roberta Maxwell, Peter Firth.
The acting of all involved was deemed marvelous. “Anthony Hopkins, articulate and troubled, is superb. . . . It is a virtuoso performance, gauged to a fraction,” wrote Clive Barnes. “Peter Firth,” wrote Walter Kerr, “is wonderfully lithe as he slips snakelike from office to cell, callow and challenging, devious and yielding all at once.”

Critics hailed Equus’s magnetically thrilling suspense, its psychological and philosophical implications, its human compassion, its ritualistic magnification, its dramaturgic craftsmanship, and its full-bodied language. Kerr called it “one of the most remarkable examples of stagecraft, as well as of sustained and multifaceted sensibility, the contemporary theatre has given us.”

There were, however, a few dissidents. The New York Times even published an article by a psychiatrist attacking the play’s medical and ethical attitudes. John Simon’s dissenting review summed up most of the negative criticisms. He said he found Equus “a bundle of anathemas,” with a nonsensical theme expressed through the unconvincingly drawn character of Dysart. He disagreed with the viewpoint that curing the boy “diminishes him; makes him plain, unpoetic and common.” In Simon’s eyes, the author’s handling of the action was unfair, a “cheap and wrong-headed” swipe at psychiatry, for Alan could not only gain, not be destroyed, by successful therapy. Simon criticized the too-pat depiction of the doctor as himself enmeshed in a frigid life and abnormal lifestyle with his longing for the paganism of ancient Greece. He attacked the play’s “case history” technique as “the least imaginative form,” declared the nude scene unnecessary, detected a subtextual homosexuality whose covert treatment was “particularly jejune,” castigated Alan’s cure as too simplistic, and dismissed the language as excessively ordinary.

Nonetheless, the play won the Best Play Tony Award, as well as top awards from the New York Drama Critics Circle, the Outer Critics Circle, and the Drama Desk. Hopkins picked up awards from the Outer Critics Circle and Drama Desk. Firth was given the Outer Critics Circle Award for Notable Performance by a Young Players, and also landed a Tony nomination for Best Actor. Sternhagen won a Supporting Actress Award from the Drama Desk and got a Tony nomination in the same category. Dexter won the Best Director Tony, along with a similar award from the Drama Desk. And Andy Phillips was Tony-nominated for his lighting.

Anthony Perkins, Tom Hulce, Everett McGill.

Over the course of Equus’s long run, the role of Dysart was played by Richard Burton, Leonard Nimoy, and Anthony Perkins, while Alan was also played by Tom Hulce.