Review: Equus (Menier Chocolate Factory)

Review by Daz Gale

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It was in 2007 when a 17-year-old Daniel Radcliffe shocked the world when he starred in a new production of Peter Shaffer’s Equus in the West End. Having risen to fame and won fans all over the world for his title role in the series that shall not be named, this was not a role anyone had seen coming, beginning a career of bold and daring choices on stage and screen. Now, this website has readers of different ages - there are some who would have caught that production in 2007, and some reading this who hadn’t even been born then. I fall somewhere in the middle - I was certainly old enough, but my experience with this play stopped at reading the headlines. It had always been a story I longed to see for myself, so you can imagine my excitement when a brand new production was announced at one of my favourite London theatres, the Menier Chocolate Factory. Would all those years horsing around put me in good standing to fall in love with Equus, or would my response be a resounding nay?

Premiering in 1973, Equus was inspired by Peter Shaffer's discovery of an alarming crime, and started pondering what the motive for it could have been. The crime in this story sees 17-year-old Alan Strang blind six horses, but what prompted him to do it? This is the challenge presented to psychiatrist Martin Dysart, who tries to make sense of what happened, putting together various pieces of the puzzle as Alan gradually reveals them. The story becomes more complex than that, however, with Dysart questioning himself whether the cure could be more dangerous than the crime.

Shaffer’s writing remains as disturbing, unsettling and thought-provoking now as it did when it debuted more than 50 years ago. Highly sexual and provocative, it deliberately goes through unconventional structures to reveal the story piece by piece, and that is a large part of why it proves so gripping and mesmerising throughout. Whether you are going into Equus completely aware of the story, partially aware or totally blind (sorry), it doesn’t negate the eventual impact of the story, with the storytelling itself fascinating to watch. Shaffer has created two deeply complex and flawed humans in Alan and Martin, with their initial meetings resulting in larger conflicts. The way they gradually settle into each other's patterns and find a way to work together is a testament to the strength and depth of Shaffer’s writing. Having never seen the play before, I longed to know the reasoning for the crime as little nuggets were teased throughout. Taking twists and turns I didn’t see coming, and touching on some of the biggest themes possible, the ultimate payoff was more than fulfilling.

One aspect of this production that truly impresses is Lindsay Posner’s miraculous direction. The Menier space has been transformed so that an audience surrounds three sides of the stage, creating a sense of intimacy that heightens the tension and often uncomfortable nature of the piece. Equus is a play filled with tension, and Posner utilises this with inspiring choices. The choice to have the supporting cast sit amongst the audience breaks down any perceived barriers, giving the illusion that when Alan reveals the very intimate details of his story, we are all there in the room with him.

Posner’s direction is perfectly complemented by the incredible movement by James Cousins. Movement is an integral part of the story, as seen from the necessary physicality Alan demonstrates. However, it is the presence of six horses on stage that truly brings this to life, with talented young actors morphing into horses with exemplary movement, falling slightly short of contemporary dance and wowing with its execution. This is best demonstrated in the closing portion of Act One in one of the most accomplished, albeit unsettling, feats of staging I have ever seen.

Visually, Equus is consistently thrilling, with Paul Farnsworth’s design turning the Menier space into a dark and exposed setting, with his costume design transforming cast members into horses in inventive ways. Paul Pyant’s lighting design is used to sensational effect as well, particularly in the pulsing, quickfire sequences that form the most striking moments of the play. It would be remiss of me to talk about a play that has intricate intimacy without mentioning the necessity of the intimacy coordinator, with the level of skill required in Clare Foster’s work in these intimate moments speaking for itself.

Toby Stephens has one of the two leading roles as Martin Dysart, delivering a commanding and dominating presence as he attempts to control the narrative and delve into the psyche of Alan Strang. It is a performance that demands a range of emotions, and Stephens’ strengths and versatility as an actor in this role are never in question, with the emotive climax faultlessly played. Elsewhere in the cast, Belle Aubin is a late but welcome addition as Jill Mason, with Emma Cunniffe delivering one of the more powerful moments as Alan's mother, Dora Strang. This is a show that requires a large amount of physicality, and the six cast members who play the horses really excel in these wordless roles. Led by Ed Mitchell as Nugget, Luke Hodkinson, Aristide Lyons, Zach Parkin, Tommi Sutton and Moses Wared must all be commended for this eye-catching collective turn as this ensemble.

Though the cast all impressed in their own right, there is one performance that stayed in my mind long after leaving the theatre, and that is the one played by Noah Valentine. Alan Strang is a demanding character who requires the actor to literally give everything. It can prove a very vulnerable role given the nature of some of the more intimate moments, but Valentine truly comes into his own in an astonishing feat of acting throughout. From his first appearance on stage, a shaky and silent Valentine sets the high standard of his performance from the most subtle of movements. As the story comes together, more sides to Strang are revealed, and Valentine beautifully teases this one moment at a time through his own phenomenal performance. Some of the more aggressive moments in his character reminded me of Owen Cooper’s performance in Adolescence, for which Cooper has received no shortage of awards for that performance. I found Valentine’s to be just as compelling, and wouldn’t be surprised if he, too, receives accolades for this captivating and confident turn.

Equus may not be the easiest of watches, but often I find the most memorable of the shows are the ones that can be disturbing. Peter Shaffer’s story has thrilled audiences and got them talking for more than fifty years, and this latest production more than lives up to the high standard that has come before. With inspired direction and design, this is a dark and brooding Equus that doesn’t so much gallop to the finish line, but instead opts for a slow trot, proving that in situations like this, slow and steady really can win the race. Though there is much to celebrate about this Equus, it is Noah Valentine’s performance that proves to be the top selling point - still a relatively new, young actor - this phenomenal feat suggests we will be seeing a lot more of Valentine on stage in the years to come - it feels fitting to say a star is born when it comes to him, but it is the truth. Perhaps not a play to take the whole family to, but if you want to be reminded of how powerful and thought-provoking theatre can be, saddle up and get yourself down to the Menier.

Equus plays at the Menier Chocolate Factory until 4th July. Tickets from https://allthatdazzles.londontheatredirect.com/play/equus-tickets

Photos by Manuel Harlan