Sidney Lumet's Equus is based on a play by Peter Shaffer, and it certainly feels like it. Normally a film feeling like a play adaptation is a negative thing, but I think it worked a lot here with the style of the people involved. For one, Shaffer adapted the play for the screen himself, which helped in keeping the strength of what made it work together without trying to adjust it too much in order to service it as a film. Secondly, the actors all make it work from Shaffer's adaptation, with Richard Burton being very large and commanding and Peter Firth played his character on stage before doing the film. Mostly though, coming from a play works tremendously when it comes to the style of Sidney Lumet.
I used to always say that you can never tell when you're watching a Lumet film, which was a compliment, because he creates something more about the characters and the story as opposed to trying to impress the audience with his technical flare. Well that has never been more true than it is here, presenting a film that focuses so intimately on it's two key characters and never tries to distract the audience from that with impressive visuals or cinematic wonders. Lumet tells the story straight and that's exactly the way it should be. The story itself is quite intriguing, as psychiatrist Martin Dysart (Burton) engages in sessions with young Alan Strang (Firth) to try and uncover the rationale for why Strang blinded six horses with a metal spike.
The film does focus on Dysart on a larger scale, with his relationships and personal demons, but it's at it's strongest when dealing with the sessions between him and Strang. These sessions are intimate, intriguing and wildly intense, the two of them pushing for power and understanding, both needing things from the other while trying to hide their own secrets. Both actors shine tremendously, with Burton commanding every moment and Firth diving full strength into his role, completely becoming his character. Strang could have been a character that would have been almost comical, but the way that Firth, Lumet and Shaffer tackle it and the story at large in such an honest and serious tone makes it work so well. There's never a doubt that this boy is genuinely feeling these emotions and with some of the themes they work with, it is very impressive that they are able to make it work in such a serious light all of the way through.
Some of the supporting actors get moments to impress as well, with Joan Plowright and Eileen Atkins doing strong work as the women who are impacted by the flaws of these men, along with Colin Blakely who is heartbreaking in his final scene. Still, the film belongs to Burton and Firth and they dominate every second. There are several scenes where Burton speaks directly to the audience, which I didn't particularly care for, but they're useful in that they dig into some strong themes about the life of a psychiatrist and the kind of lasting impact that patients can have on them. Overall it's a very strongly acted piece with impressive work from everyone involved both in front of and behind the camera. It's also pretty innovative for it's use of full-frontal male nudity, which would be controversial even by today's standards, let alone thirty five years ago.
I used to always say that you can never tell when you're watching a Lumet film, which was a compliment, because he creates something more about the characters and the story as opposed to trying to impress the audience with his technical flare. Well that has never been more true than it is here, presenting a film that focuses so intimately on it's two key characters and never tries to distract the audience from that with impressive visuals or cinematic wonders. Lumet tells the story straight and that's exactly the way it should be. The story itself is quite intriguing, as psychiatrist Martin Dysart (Burton) engages in sessions with young Alan Strang (Firth) to try and uncover the rationale for why Strang blinded six horses with a metal spike.
The film does focus on Dysart on a larger scale, with his relationships and personal demons, but it's at it's strongest when dealing with the sessions between him and Strang. These sessions are intimate, intriguing and wildly intense, the two of them pushing for power and understanding, both needing things from the other while trying to hide their own secrets. Both actors shine tremendously, with Burton commanding every moment and Firth diving full strength into his role, completely becoming his character. Strang could have been a character that would have been almost comical, but the way that Firth, Lumet and Shaffer tackle it and the story at large in such an honest and serious tone makes it work so well. There's never a doubt that this boy is genuinely feeling these emotions and with some of the themes they work with, it is very impressive that they are able to make it work in such a serious light all of the way through.
Some of the supporting actors get moments to impress as well, with Joan Plowright and Eileen Atkins doing strong work as the women who are impacted by the flaws of these men, along with Colin Blakely who is heartbreaking in his final scene. Still, the film belongs to Burton and Firth and they dominate every second. There are several scenes where Burton speaks directly to the audience, which I didn't particularly care for, but they're useful in that they dig into some strong themes about the life of a psychiatrist and the kind of lasting impact that patients can have on them. Overall it's a very strongly acted piece with impressive work from everyone involved both in front of and behind the camera. It's also pretty innovative for it's use of full-frontal male nudity, which would be controversial even by today's standards, let alone thirty five years ago.