‘Equus’ at The Players’ Ring

Having grown up with horses, I learned early on not to trust those unpredictable beasts. While they are impressive and majestic creatures, they embody an earthy power that is both enchanting and terrifying. In fact, horses have always scared the shit out of me. And this is the mindset I took with me to see “Equus,” the new play at The Players’ Ring in Portsmouth.
Peter Schaffer’s story is set in a children’s mental health ward in England. The lead psychiatrist, Martin Dysart (Chris Walters), has been given a new case. It seems a teenage boy named Alan Strang (Dylan Schwartz-Wallach) stabbed out the eyes of several horses under his care. The boy is at first reluctant to share the reasons behind his disturbing act, but the truth eventually comes out.

Produced by Todd Hunter and directed by Joi Smith, the set for “Equus” is simple but effective. The use of unfinished wood creates a rustic, countrified setting. Scattered around the stage are hand tools, a few pieces of antique furniture and the doctor’s desk, which is simply a painted black box.

The only things that interrupt the aged, grainy set are five metallic horse heads, designed and sculpted by Ron Ames and Dane Leeman. These masks fit over the heads of the actors, creating a sharp contrast with their modern, industrial construction. Like a skeleton, the masks appear empty of anima, their eyes hollow.

It is never exactly clear when the story is set. However, there are a few hints, as when the audience learns that Alan’s father disapproves of his wife’s recent purchase of a television. “Everyone watches television these days,” she explains. Despite the ambiguous date, it’s obvious that commercial industry is having a profound effect on British society. The characters often find themselves at odds with modernization, but they also accept and embrace its inevitability. The audience learns, for example, that Alan’s soul suffers from his work in an appliance shop.

Despite its technology, the country has not progressed so far as to have forgotten God. Alan’s mother, an former school teacher, is an upright Christian. She tries with quiet persistence to pass on her piety to Alan. The boy’s father, an atheist, becomes enraged, insisting that books, learning and reason are the highest pursuits. The religious battle between his parents produces a mixed message, which Alan is forced to swallow.

Through youthful fascination and sexual attraction, Alan’s focus for worship falls on horses. Alan is amazed by the way horses respond to his commands, but he is also humbled by their power, and he is sexually thrilled by their bodies and smell.
In Alan’s eyes, horses are also Jesus figures. Abused, enslaved and put in chains, horses have absorbed the sins of humankind without objection or resentment. To gain favor with the godly beasts, Alan ritualistically harnesses and flagellates himself.

When Dysart finally understands the extent of Alan’s worship, he becomes jealous of the passion that enthralls the boy on his late night rides. The doctor has never experienced emotion of that intensity, even when making love to his Scottish wife. Unfortunately for the audience, Dysart goes into detail about the failings of his marriage, which served a purpose but was distracting, especially since the actor’s delivery was a bit lacking.

In the end, the doctor is led to question the boy’s insanity. If Dysart fixes Alan and returns him to society, what kind of dull, emotionless existence will the boy suffer? Is the doctor more insane for trudging through his own inane existence? Who has the right to prescribe sanity in an insane world? 

As contemporary Americans are bombarded with confusing messages, mixing religion, war and technology, this production seems timely. The need for ritual, worship and some sort of spiritual outlet is as real today as it was in Alan’s time. The play questions the influence of industry, God, morality, class and mental health. Schwartz-Wallach does an incredible job of portraying the troubled, impassioned Alan. His performance alone is a good reason to go see “Equus.” But if you approach this play with a healthy fear of horses, like I did, don’t expect to walk away cured. Their empty eyes are always watching.

“Equus” will be at The Players’ Ring on Marcy Street through Sunday, May 11, with performances on Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 7 p.m. Tickets are $10 for members, $12 for nonmembers, $2 off for seniors and students. Call 603-436-8123.