Equus

Strang is referred to child psychiatrist, Martin Dysart who, whilst at first reluctant, is soon consumed by the need to understand why his patient has committed such a crime. Eleanor Field’s intelligent and immersive design effectively invites the audience to do the same. Staged in the round, the ensemble and audience are seated in judicial docks, encouraged to consider whether social experiences, a conflicting religious/atheist upbringing, or Alan alone are responsible for his actions. Sarah Stephenson’s production employs the clever touch of forensic evidence bags and a smoky, dim, amber wash, honouring Shaffer’s episodic, drama-style exploration of Alan’s crime.   

The ever present ensemble, constantly eyeing and commenting on the action, are polished and demonstrate the disciplined unison of a Greek Chorus with skill, applying their horse masks precisely in sync. This ritualistic unison of the Greek Chorus could have been utilised more, in place of recurring tableaus, to compliment Dysart’s thematic references, but fundamentally to reinforce the meticulousness of Alan’s worship to the horses and the fastidious detail, down to the made-up ‘chinkle chankle’s, within his world.   

The cast are thorough in never revealing their youth status —the professionalism of the production is resolute. This is particularly clear in a stand-out scene depicting Alan and his friend Jill at an adult cinema, whereby the cast provide humorous relief from the intensity of the play, with unwavering commitment to their grotesquely characterised film-goers.  

Photo: Allie Spencer

Tom Martin is a tour de force as Alan, physically and emotionally. He effortlessly captures the complexity of Alan’s disturbed, pent-up yet still human state—a young boy torn between his own world and society’s. He is particularly outstanding in the scene whereby Alan is caught self-abusing, with rope and a coat hanger, in an act of worship to a photograph of his horse deity.  

Jacob Seelochan is equally impressive as Dysart, mastering the difficult feat of portraying a man who is a veteran of child psychiatry, battling everything he though he knew about himself and his profession. He delivers Dysart’s dense monologues competently and his strong presence reminds us that Shaffer’s play is as much about Dysart as it is Alan. They’re two men on different ends of a scale which Seelochan compellingly brings to light in Dysart’s final epiphany: has he been curing children all these years or sacrificing them to live passionless lives?  

Stephenson’s production is engaging throughout and builds to an impactful and destructive climax. We’re constantly summoned to judge and scrutinise Alan’s crime along with them. The only certain verdict is that this youth group’s Equus is a credit to Nottingham Playhouse.