... are in, and they seem to enjoy frolicking about with words like "equimaniac" and "hippophile."
Guardian eminence Michael Billington puts it bluntly, right at the top of his review: "Forget all the prurient press speculation about Harry Potter's private parts. The revelation of this revival is that Daniel Radcliffe really can act."
(Bonus reading: Billington on the history of stage nudity, a story Tboy likewise enjoyed exploring a few years back in this City Paper piece. Though Tboy wasn't genius enough to slip a "hoo-ha" past his editors. Or to end on "half-cocked.")
The Times' Benedict Nightingale likewise takes the direct route: "OK, it was exactly what all that prurient hype promised." (Aside: When did critics for The Times of London begin launching their reviews with American colloquialisms?)
The Telegraph drools a bit, saying that "the diminutive (but perfectly formed)" Radcliffe "brilliantly succeeds in throwing off the mantle of Harry Potter, announcing himself as a thrilling stage actor of unexpected range and depth."
The Independent, by contrast, is content with "Radcliffe acquits himself well."
Most everyone likes John Napier's design (though for what it's worth, Tboy thinks the horse mask looks like a fruit bowl, at least from the Reuters photo on the Telegraph site).
As for the play, here's Nightingale: "Equus is at root dated, pretentious and even a bit pernicious ..."
And Billington: "What disturbs me, 34 years after the play's premiere, is the way ... Shaffer romanticises pain."
Both of the big boys take swipes, sidelong or otherwise, at R.D. Laing, whose notions influenced Shaffer's thinking on the blandness of normality.
So there you have it: The critics, as usual, are all over the map.