Friday, June 11, 2004

Mythic imagery colors 'Equus'

Review: Rude Guerrilla staging emphasizes the dark eroticism of Peter Shaffer's 1973 drama.

By ERIC MARCHESE

Special to the Register

Few plays combine mythology, psychology and religious iconography as skillfully as "Equus," Peter Shaffer's 1973 drama about a 17-year-old stable boy who blinds a group of horses in the English countryside. Heightening audience interest in what caused the boy to behave so violently is the play's mystery-style structure, with each new bit of information providing an additional puzzle piece.

Framed in images of ritual sacrifice and suffering, "Equus" is an orgy of self-recrimination, with most of Shaffer's characters deeply troubled, burdened with reproach - for themselves or others - and shame. In Rude Guerrilla Theater Company's tight staging at the Empire Theater, director Alexander Rodriguez emphasizes how much this psychological drama is like a mystery thriller, while Shaffer's use of the story's supporting characters as a Greek chorus that ominously hums and chants likens the play to classical tragedy.   

Using partial and full nudity, Rodriguez's staging gets at the script's eroticism, a critical component in Shaffer's heady mixture of guilt, torment and sexual awareness. The centerpiece of the director's functional but largely unimpressive set is a nightmarish, Escher-like painting of horses' heads and large eyes meshed together. Befitting the material, the subdued costume scheme (uncredited) grounds this earthy, mythic and often violent tale in dark, neutral tones. Treating Alan (Keith Bennett) is Dr. Martin Dysart (Jay Michael Fraley), who refers to himself as "an overworked psychiatrist in a provincial hospital." Throughout "Equus," Dysart strains to root out the causes of the boy's explosion of savagery and learn why someone who has always worshipped equines would suddenly harm them. Shaffer adds resonance to his tale by making the descent into Alan's heart of darkness as much Dysart's journey of self-discovery as it is his way to diagnose and treat Alan.

Leading Rodriguez's cast is Rude Guerrilla veteran Fraley. With slightly graying hair and glasses perched on the end of his nose, his Dysart is at first intrigued with Alan only from a clinical standpoint - erudite and casually self-assured, but clearly fraying around the edges. Fraley conveys the duality of his character's nature: His deep sense of pride in his professional proficiency and his regret over having sublimated his passions to conform with society's image of a man of medicine. By the end of "Equus," he's racked with self-loathing, his own tortured psyche having been exposed by the most harrowing case he has ever treated.

Alan is the focal point of Dysart's work and of any production of "Equus." Bennett's performance is puzzlingly unsatisfying. His portrayal succeeds in the play's moments of wry humor, or in the way he lovingly caresses his words of adoration for Equus. Clearly well older than 17, Bennett doesn't convey the character's youth, frazzled nerves or fragile psyche. The climactic scene aside, when Alan's panic crescendos, it's the script, not so much Bennett's work, that tells us how deeply disturbed the boy really is.

Marnelle Ross creates a delicate, layered portrait of Alan's nurturing, deeply religious mother, showing the woman's heartbreak and helplessness over watching her baby disintegrate before her eyes and suffering wrenching guilt over what he has become. Less distinctive - and less colorful than as scripted - is David Cramer's work as Alan's stern, judgmental, hypocritical father.

With a coltish manner and her hair in a ponytail, Jessica Aldridge is sensual and uninhibited as stable girl Jill, the only "Equus" character completely at ease with herself. Deborah Conroy credibly exhibits a worried brow and sympathetic nature as one of Dysart's devoted colleagues. Drew Sutherland succeeds in filling numerous roles - most crucially, as the man who first gives a much younger Alan his first ride on a horse, and as Equus, the handsome stallion to which Alan has forged a mysterious, erotic connection.

If your cup of metaphorical theatrical tea is a psychological drama that delves deep into spirituality and sexuality (and we’re not talking Oz, folks), then Rude Guerrilla’s Theater Co.’s masterfully executed production of Peter Shaffer’s Equus will definitely satisfy your metaphorical theatrical palate.

The play centers on the fascinating dynamic between 17-year-old Alan Strang, a uniquely petulant, creepy and yet oddly gentle boy who, after the very ungentle act of sticking a metal spike into six pairs of equine orbs, finds his sanity in question, and his questioner, Martin Dysart, a middle-aged psychologist who encounters troubling questions about his own self-worth.

There’s a lot of heavy stuff at work here, perhaps nothing so heavy as Shaffer’s idea that Alan’s mutilation of the horses is truly self-mutilation. His inability to express himself physically and spiritually in a world that both smothers and represses him drives him to take out his anger on the creatures he reveres most.

This compelling relationship between patient and doctor can’t work unless two fine actors are doing their thing, and that’s what happens here. The eight-member cast all clocks, but it’s Keith Bennett’s chilling portrayal of Alan’s emotional collapse and Jay Michael Fraley’s excellent blend of rage, confusion and subtlety as Dr. Dysart that this play pivots upon.

Director Alexander Rodriquez thankfully breaks away from the typical Equus staging (which usually involves overblown light and sound effects and papier-mâché horse heads), focusing instead on the characters’ intricate relationships. Through this treatment, the characters are naked and vulnerable both mentally and physically, exposing their souls while delivering Shaffer’s edgy message—that the cure is sometimes more hazardous than the sickness, especially if the patient in question finds his passion completely stripped away and thus is left with nothing to live for—utterly sincerely.

Equus at Empire Theater, 200 N. Broadway, Santa Ana, (714) 547-4688. Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2:30 p.m.; also Thurs., June 24. Question-and-answer session on Sat. Through June 27. $12-$15.

—Tom Hyatt