Onstage nudity is coming to Oxford. Good news for those of us who missed Daniel Radcliffe’s performance in Equus, since the same play is on at the OFS in Third Week. But if you’re only going for the novelty of seeing someone take their clothes off on stage, says director Anna Hextall, you’ll be disappointed.
‘The nudity is not important. It is a small component of certain scenes and is by no means the most shocking element. With the right approach, the nudity should not become the prime focus of any scenes in Equus but instead should appropriately reflect the weightier themes of the play.’
This all sounds terribly serious, and many audience members will probably ignore it. Others won’t, and might be put off. Others still, however, will think of Shakespeare’s King Lear, where the tragic hero strips off his clothes – ‘off, you lendings’ – during a storm.
‘The director treads a dangerously thin line between expression and exploitation’
No one remembers Lear for the nakedness alone. Some productions have gone further than others: most notably in recent years when Ian McKellen bared all in the RSC’s 2007 production. Lear is a lasting example of a play which nudity adds to, without dominating.
The Blue Room, a West End play starring a briefly naked Nicole Kidman, lived up to this example. An adaptation of an Austrian script about sexual liaisons and syphilis, it was directed by Academy Award winner Sam Mendes. The media storm beforehand focused almost exclusively on the shock factor. When the play opened, everything changed. The Telegraph called it ‘pure theatrical Viagra’, and Kidman won unprecedented acclaim for her performance.
‘Kidman’s performance in The Blue Room was called “pure theatrical viagra”‘
Not all plays attempting to follow suit have succeeded. I was simply bewildered by a Dublin production of the unusually-titled Woman and Scarecrow. For no apparent reason, the eponymous Woman was naked for almost half the play, revealing a too-obviously painted caesarean scar. The experience was uneasy rather than sleazy, but my overriding feeling was one of confusion.
One rather pities the actors in such situations, and the line between expression and exploitation is often dangerously thin. For the cast and crew of Equus, a focus on trust in rehearsals has paid dividends: they no longer feel uncomfortable with nudity, according to the director.
It would certainly be tough to argue that Radcliffe was exploited when he played the play’s leading role. For him, it was a chance to break away from Harry Potter into serious acting. Paradoxically, it was Potter that most of his fans paid to see.
This paradox is faced by all plays whose most obvious selling point jars with their substance. Radcliffe’s production succeeded because it offered theatregoers more than what they came for. The challenge for Oxford’s Equus will not be to attract audiences, but to surprise them.
