The story is one of the oddest you'll find in recent cinema. A somewhat troubled psychiatrist, Dr. Martin Dysart (Richard Burton) accepts a new patient, a seventeen-year-old stable hand, Alan Strang (Peter Firth), who blinded six horses with a metal spike for no apparent reason. The film follows Burton's investigation into this especially insidious and seemingly inexplicable crime, and then explores what he discovers about Alan and about himself.

Alan at first seems to be a disturbed, but harmless young man. However, as Dysart digs deeper and deeper into his past, he begins to unearth a startling tale of oppression, religious confusion, and sexual inadequacy. Alan's mother (Joan Plowright) is a religious fanatic, and his father (Colin Firth) is an atheist who thinks it's all bunk and doesn't mind telling her. These conflicting messages somehow marry inside Alan's mind, and he develops his own twisted religion, one that revolves around horses, and an omniscient god called Equus (the Latin name for "horse").

The underlying theme of the film seems to be that any kind of passion is better than dull stagnation, even if that passion is perverted and ultimately destructive. Burton's character is seen as the epitome human stagnation -- he is caught in a loveless marriage, entrapped by his fear of having children and his unwillingness to break free and start anew. Alan, on the other hand, has broken free from his parents' confusion and developed his own faith, a kind of odd equine worship that borders on bestiality. Although this invented, one-man religion is repulsive within the confines of most human normalcy, the film seems to suggest that it has an importance of its own that can't be ignored.

Lumet and all those involved should be applauded for having the guts to tackle this project, but it was never meant for the screen. It was doomed from the start because it asks too much of the audience. Schaffer does a good job expanding his play into a screenplay, envisioning the scenes that could never be played out on stage. Yet, the center of the film is still grandiose acting and tons of over-reaching self revelation, and it ends up feeling awkward and unsteady on the screen.

Eight different times during the film Burton delivers long, impassioned monologues from behind his desk, directly to the audience. Burton gives them his all, performing with rampant gusto, but it's all to no avail because the dialogue is written in such a mess of symbolism, irony, mythological allusions and psycho babble, that the viewer doesn't have a hope of digesting it in one viewing, especially at the speed Burton delivers them. A VCR becomes almost a necessity during these scenes if you want to understand what he's saying and how it relates to the action.

If anything, "Equus" will be remembered for its disturbing visuals and uneasy atmosphere. As Alan, Firth does more on screen in this one film than most actors do in their entire careers. He's required to go through rigorous physical ordeals, including large amounts of frontal nudity, a rarity even in today's films. In one scene he kneels on his bed, puts a bit in his mouth, reigns himself like a horse while slapping his legs in a strange religious ceremony. In another scene he rides horse bareback, completely naked, in a crescendo of sexual/religious ecstasy. His performance is brave and brilliant, but it still can't salvage this film.

Overall Rating: (2)