Equus
Fantasy or Fixation?
‘Equus’ is a play of madness, misery, and one teenager’s love for horses
Imagine your favourite thing, perhaps an animal, your first pet- for example. Imagine investing all the affection and care that you could possibly muster up into this one precious creature. Imagine spending hours of your life, dedicated to keeping this creature safe. Now, imagine attacking it- harshly, viciously, almost destroying it completely. 17 year old Alan doesn't have to imagine. For him, this is reality.This is my first attempt at a play review, and I could think of nothing better than to begin with the principal of all psychological dramas- the darkest, cleverest, most unusual play I have come across so far-Peter Shaffer's 'Equus'.
The plot is based around the psychological journey of the aforementioned Alan, who finds himself institutionalised after a truly disturbing outburst of violence. His maintenance job at the local stables (to exercise his fascination with horses), appears to be commencing smoothly... until he blinds six of the horses with a metal hoof pick. Highly delusional, and incapable of providing an explanation for his malicious behaviour, Alan becomes the new project of psychiatrist Martin Dysart.
The majority of the play outlines Dysart's struggle to reach Alan, intermixed with poignant flashbacks. His mission is to discover the foundations beneath Alan's disposition, before crushing them so that he becomes no more than a harmless, emotionless human vegetable. Countless years of conducting this gruelling "healing" process has left Dysart questioning the institution system, which he voices often. Is it right to take the integral parts of someone, however unspeakable they may be, and destroy them? Are we not entitled to our own fixations?
For Alan at least, his fixation is verging on psychotic, and is closely linked to his childhood. With his Mother being a devout Christian and Father a strict atheist, Alan has been raised with clashing ideologies. As a subsequent result of this internal conflict, he has crafted his very own god, the eponymous 'Equus', whom he associates with its Latin translation: a horse. Equus is both a fantasy and a reality for Alan, which reflects the fusion of his parents' beliefs.
Although Alan has been raised largely as a theist, there are elements of his personality that reflect his Father's doubts. He is argumentative, with a core of pessimism that makes him eager to combat all of Dysart's attempts to analyse him. One way of understanding his actions, could be to see them as a dangerous side effect of his upbringing, concerning the constant battle between theology and disbelief.
His love for Equus falls somewhere between admiration and sexual attraction, which requires those taking on the lead role to appear stark naked in certain scenes. For Daniel Radcliffe, playing Alan meant transitioning from national sweetheart Harry Potter to deranged, naked abuser. Further, the play itself portrays a sense of nudity-as the set is totally stripped back in terms of props. Characters sit on benches at either side of the stage, arising only for their designated scenes. This empty, dull set perhaps mirrors the implications of institutionalisation in general, and its ability to reduce patients to empty vessels. I am reminded particularly of Ken Kesey's 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest', in which McMurphy's "cure" comes in the form of a soul-degrading lobotomy. There is a fine line it seems between normality, and full-blown incapacitation.
Notably, there are a limitless number of possible explanations for Alan's condition. As a character of my age, his struggle was incredibly close to home for me. However bizarre, the foundations of his mental anguish are not a million miles away from the troubles many experience in adolescence. Life can often feel like an impossible crossroads of beliefs and responsibilities, pointing in contrasting directions. A way to deal with this, perhaps, is to construct your very own idol, in order to escape the constant everyday questioning. In other words, create your every own Equus. It seems to me that Alan's condition can be interpreted not simply as a psychotic obsession, but rather as the struggles of youth, amplified.
Of course, the question remains, if Alan admires horses to such an extent, why does he viciously blind them? To answer that, would be not only to spoil the play, but also to provide an impossible conclusion. You may turn the final page, or witness the final curtain bow, and still remain unsure. A better question to ask, perhaps, would be- why do we harm the things we love the most?
I certainly have no idea. But if you do find out, please let me know.
Although Alan has been raised largely as a theist, there are elements of his personality that reflect his Father's doubts. He is argumentative, with a core of pessimism that makes him eager to combat all of Dysart's attempts to analyse him. One way of understanding his actions, could be to see them as a dangerous side effect of his upbringing, concerning the constant battle between theology and disbelief.
His love for Equus falls somewhere between admiration and sexual attraction, which requires those taking on the lead role to appear stark naked in certain scenes. For Daniel Radcliffe, playing Alan meant transitioning from national sweetheart Harry Potter to deranged, naked abuser. Further, the play itself portrays a sense of nudity-as the set is totally stripped back in terms of props. Characters sit on benches at either side of the stage, arising only for their designated scenes. This empty, dull set perhaps mirrors the implications of institutionalisation in general, and its ability to reduce patients to empty vessels. I am reminded particularly of Ken Kesey's 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest', in which McMurphy's "cure" comes in the form of a soul-degrading lobotomy. There is a fine line it seems between normality, and full-blown incapacitation.
Notably, there are a limitless number of possible explanations for Alan's condition. As a character of my age, his struggle was incredibly close to home for me. However bizarre, the foundations of his mental anguish are not a million miles away from the troubles many experience in adolescence. Life can often feel like an impossible crossroads of beliefs and responsibilities, pointing in contrasting directions. A way to deal with this, perhaps, is to construct your very own idol, in order to escape the constant everyday questioning. In other words, create your every own Equus. It seems to me that Alan's condition can be interpreted not simply as a psychotic obsession, but rather as the struggles of youth, amplified.
Of course, the question remains, if Alan admires horses to such an extent, why does he viciously blind them? To answer that, would be not only to spoil the play, but also to provide an impossible conclusion. You may turn the final page, or witness the final curtain bow, and still remain unsure. A better question to ask, perhaps, would be- why do we harm the things we love the most?
I certainly have no idea. But if you do find out, please let me know.
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