THEATER REVIEW : An Electrifying Revival of ‘Equus’ : The Peter Shaffer play’s mythic poetry is undiminished in the West Coast Ensemble’s transcendent production.

Try to forget the movie. Few films have hobbled a play like the clinical adaptation of Peter Shaffer’s “Equus.” Although that screen version starred Richard Burton, it never reproduced the play’s mythic poetry. No camera possibly could.

Don’t forget this is theater . The West Coast Ensemble’s transcendent revival unleashes pure theatricality. From the opening scene of a stableboy embracing a “horse”--an actor in mask and on platform hoofs--to the climactic blinding of the horse-god called Equus, an audience’s willing suspension of disbelief is crucial. Guided by director Jules Aaron, our mind’s eye vividly conjures images out of illusion and the unconscious.

This is what happens to child psychiatrist Martin Dysart (an electrifying Ian Buchanan). Anticipating “the usual unusual,” the doctor is quickly obsessed and possessed by the mysterious case of Alan Strang (an astonishing Jack Noseworthy). While analyzing the adolescent, Dysart sees in his own nightmares primal needs urging him to break free of civilization’s discontents. What we see, but what the good doctor can’t admit to himself, is his repressed desire for the seductive boy.

The gradual unveiling of truth occurs via Dysart’s relentless psychiatric examination. But within the spare institutional format of a ring-like office--beautifully realized by set designer Ramsey Avery, hauntingly aided by Tom Ruzika’s lights and Ted C. Giammona’s provocative costumes--ancient myths seem to materialize.

This happens because Aaron’s spellbinding choreography evokes the magic of archaic religious dance-dramas.

Six actors don metal masks and enter the arena, their boots resembling the thick-soled kothurnos from ancient Greek tragedy, but we imagine centaurs. Like a Greek chorus, their equine gestures provide musical counterpoint to the psychodrama.

When the first horse appears, the slow-motion entrance by Christopher B. Duncan has a hypnotic, breathtaking grace, as if emerging from a collective dream. When the boy’s parents (a superb Gammy Singer and Frank Ashmore) argue over the cause of his crime, their debate echoes like a chant. When the seduction finally occurs, the girl (Rajia Baroudi, convincing despite a sketchily written role) and boy strip in a ritual reminiscent of primitive sacrifices. Nude, their chiseled bodies resemble statues from antiquity.

Buchanan’s rational psychiatrist and Noseworthy’s Dionysian adolescent perform a haunting dance of eros culminating in Oedipal catharsis. We’re reminded that theater comes from the Greek word thea , meaning “the act of seeing.” At the West Coast Ensemble, seeing is not believing--it’s mesmerizing.

* “Equus,” West Coast Ensemble, 6240 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood. Thursdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m., Sundays, 3 p.m. Ends Aug. 15. $10-$20. (213) 871-1052. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.