Equus

ANIMAL CRACKERS Radcliffe embraces

I doubt that teen fans of the Harry Potter franchise are equally avid for the writings of Nietzsche and Jung, but after seeing Daniel Radcliffe in Equus, they might be. Peter Shaffer’s 1973 equinocentric psychodrama never mentions those German thinkers, but it is suffused with dream symbolism and the clash of Christian and pagan sexual mores. Such themes are more or less explicitly raised by Dysart (Griffiths), the deeply conflicted psychiatrist who guides us through his radical treatment of Alan Strang (Radcliffe), a young man who has blinded six horses with a spike.

Sorry, spoiler-haters: Alan’s trouble is basically sexual. But you probably guessed that from the relentless publicity campaign placing a buck-naked Radcliffe in provocative positions with an unimpressed-looking horse. In the actual show, limply staged by Thea Sharrock, the steeds are studly actors in skintight outfits and metal-mesh horse heads. Set and costume designer John Napier, who handled the original production, basically revisits his ’70s sketches, which is a shame. A fresh U.K. company such as Improbable or Complicite could have done theatrical wonders with the text.

That lurid, once-shocking material is showing its age, even if it’s not quite time for the glue factory. And the uneven cast drags the pace down too often. Griffiths, so sparky and impish in The History Boys, opts for a resigned melancholia that saps Dysart’s rage and turns everything into a sheepish shrug. Radcliffe certainly went bold for his stage debut (insanity! nudity!) and he’s an energetic presence, but his Alan is flat and shallow. Word of advice to movie stars clattering across our stages: Learn to trot before trying to gallop.