Equus

It's usually girls that have a fixation on horses, but this particular affliction also affects Peter Firth.

Sidney Lumet adds this version of Peter Schaffer's play to his list of memorable theatrical adaptations while Richard Burton earns his reputation breaching the third wall to provide the glue that holds the film together and was duly rewarded with several awards (including an Oscar nomination).

The orange-tinted scene in the barn where Jenny Agutter slips out of her jodhpurs and on to her back provides an unexpected thrill unfortunately blighted (SPOILER COMING:) by the truly shocking sight that immediately follows.

One of the most intriguing comments I've heard about this film is that it pales in comparison to the stage production. On the one hand, this is true in that the film loses much of the inventive staging that was inherent in the play (e.g., convention of having the "horses" played by actors in black with horsehead headdresses, the tight focus of the action within a small perimeter). The problem, however, isn't so much Sidney Lumet's concept of the film as it is the limitations of the medium itself -- devices which are striking on stage simply don't work on film. Indeed, those directors who have tried to make such conventions work usually end up shortchanging the material.

And it is here where Lumet's genius comes in. If there is one thing that Lumet has a feel for, it is the gritty, down-to-earth feel of everyday life. While this usually means New York life, he does a marvelous job in this film of capturing the drab sterility of Dysart's world, as well as that of the Strang home. When these are compared to the vivid, almost ethereal shots of Alan in the stables or with the horses on the field (also, compare the striking image of horse and rider on the beach with the remainder of the beachgoers), we can fully understand Dysart's frustration about "looking at pages of centaurs trampling the soil of Argos" while Alan "is trying to become one in a Hampshire field". Alan has found a way to completely escape the drabness of his world, while Dysart has become sterile trying to find ways not remind himself of it. Similarly, the tight perimeter of the stage play has been replaced by tight focused shots which, more often than not, achieve the same result through a claustrophobic effect.

Likewise, the absence of theatrical staging does nothing to dampen the power of Shaffer's text, which remains as potent as ever. Indeed, what's often overlooked about this play is that, while the visual images of the staging are striking, they are, in most instances, completely detached from the central thrust of the text, both as a mystery and as a commentary on the consequences of society's demand for "normality" at any cost.

In this regard, the performances are outstanding. Richard Burton gives one of his last great performances as Dysart, showing us the literally crumbling facade of the doctor's spirit, while at the same time giving us a complete character (contrast his cynicism throughout with the moments of tenderness, such as those shown to Alan's mother and to Alan himself after the final session). Likewise, Peter Firth presents us with a cipher, wrapped up in television jingles, who is revealed to us piece by piece through moments of vulnerability until we see in full force what has made his character commit these horrible crimes. The rest of the cast -- notably Joan Plowright, Colin Blakely and Jenny Agutter -- do wonders with the limited dialogue they have to work with.

Put simply, Equus is an astonishing film to watch, provided that you're ready to watch it as a film, rather than as a filmed stage play. For those who hold to the notion that only the stage devices can make this play work, I'd advise them not to watch any film adapted from a play, as they'll almost certainly be disappointed every time.

Have never seen the so talked about play but for what it´s worth, I think this film is very well done. The intesity of the main character, Alan, and the way it´s portrayed by Peter Firth, is quite disturbing and sometimes it was kind of hard to keep waching the film (the only film I can remember getting me that feeling is A Clockwork Orange, when I was a teen). Not anyone dares to script something like this, futhermore, not anyone dares to act it. The harsh opinion of some people on a work like this is expected, since most people are afraid to have their sterile brain shaken once in a while. After all, this is a very daring film and it demands a reaction from its audience since it deals mainly, I would say, with passion.

Both Peter Firth and Richard Burton give a lesson on acting that every 20 million hollywood superstar should pay atention too. So, if you want some entertaiment that have a warm feeling and makes feel you good, go see Pirates of the Caribean. Equus has the power to disturb and transfixate its audience, this is truly an art film.

I don't know what's the deal with the stage-play, I never saw it, but a film is a film and a play is a play. It's quite normal to me that the two of them should not be compared. Anyway. On the film. I have seen some of Lummet's great overall work both newer and older (Network, Serpico, Night Falls over Manhattan, Critical care, The hill a.o.) and I must say I liked them all. Lummet is one of the greatest and underrated directors of all time. Why? He extracts awesome acting from his actors and he's got a choice for stories.

Equus, is my best Lummet film I have seen so far - I always had a tendency to take interest on and see subtext in extreme, weird, negative situations on film. You have much to take from negative stuff, if they're handled properly. Here, there are so much stated for the viewer to think. Questions on the point of psychotherapy, on the nature of perversion (and its possible causes), importance of religion combined with lack of knowledge, isolation, lust for life and so much more I don't want to refer to here.

Beware! The film features strong material - both visuals and texts - this is no easy film for Hollywood audience. But its not uneasy in a way that it's slow, or 'arty' or anything. Far from that, it's original, deeply involving, with gripping atmosphere... Its subject matter though, might force the more coward or less open-minded viewers to trash it or mock it, for fear of what it could unleash or because they simply couldn't understand it. But intelligent film lovers, take a little tolerance and SEE this. It is worth the search. This is film is a masterpiece of film-making!

An interesting drama, with an intriguing screenplay full of interesting ideas and with a strikingly mystery element to it, the film is a bit lengthy and drawn out, and there are a few other quirks one may have with it, but it is generally solid stuff. Burton is very good as an ever-questioning doctor, fascinated by his patient for reasons that are beyond what he can grasp. Firth also is strong as a confused young man, and he has quite a bit to do with his role: he plays his character in a mentally disturbed state, under hypnosis, and even credibly as himself at age six in one scene. The film is jarred by its monologues, which cause it to ramble on and become tangled in its philosophies - but the ideas themselves are good. It was adapted from a stage play and perhaps it would have worked better on stage, but even if imperfect, this film version is still an interesting watch.