Rhinoceros by Eugène Ionesco - ★★★★☆
Eugène Ionesco's Rhinoceros first premiered in 1959, emerging in the shadow of World War II and the rise of fascist regimes in Eastern Europe. The play, a biting satire on conformity, culture, logic, mob mentality, and morality, is reimagined by Omar Elerian at the Almeida Theatre, transforming the space into a French town where, ultimately, one man dares to stand alone.
From the very first moment, the fourth wall is shattered. In a playful twist reminiscent of Simon Says, the narrator (Paul Hunter) establishes house rules and playfully commands the audience to perform a range of actions, in which they instinctively obey. The effect is immediate — ears prick up, eyes lock onto the stage, and a tangible sense of anticipation fills the air.
The set is stark: a bare white stage framed by transparent curtains, with an ensemble dressed in crisp white lab coats, their hair styled in exaggerated, gravity-defying shapes. Everything is narrated, from tables to doors, with Hunter's sharp, witty delivery keeping the audience in a near-constant state of laughter.
We meet Berenger (Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù) and Jean (Joshua McGuire) over drinks. Their friendship is clear, but so is Berenger’s disheveled state, much to Jean’s frustration. As they talk, a rhinoceros suddenly charges through the town square, an astonishing but quickly dismissed anomaly. That is, until a second rhinoceros appears, causing an uproar. The town’s logician (John Biddle) attempts to rationalise the absurdity, but his explanations only deepen the confusion.
Now in the office, the discussion of the rhinos continues. Daisy (Anoushka Lucas) insists that they are real, while Dìrísù’s Berenger debates whether they are Asiatic or African. But the real question isn’t where they come from, it’s what they signify. More rhinos appear, and the creeping realisation dawns: the transformation is inevitable for most, but not for all. As chaos unfolds, the play’s underlying message crystallises, the challenge of resisting conformity in the face of mass hysteria.
The movement and physical expression of the cast are extraordinary. From the thunderous stampede of rhinos to McGuire’s mesmerising transition into one, Toby Sedgewick’s movement direction stands out. Costume design also speaks volumes, straight white coats morph into identical outfits mirroring Dudard’s (John Biddle) trousers, shirt, and suspenders, a visual testament to the play’s exploration of mob mentality.
Rhinoceros is bizarre, bold, and brilliantly executed. Ionesco’s text, in Elerian’s hands, stretches the boundaries of what theatre can be. The production is alive with clowning and absurdity, even as it confronts the stark dangers of complacency and blind conformity. Translating the play from French to English while weaving in a moment of Italian song, performed beautifully by Anoushka Lucas as she serenades Dìrísù, adds another layer of richness.
Though there are moments where the pacing lags and all feels lost, the cast — including Alan Williams, Hayley Carmichael, and Sophie Steer — deliver a compelling and thought-provoking performance that forces the use of imagination.
The audience are left with more than just entertainment; they leave with a lingering question: in the face of mass transformation, would you stand firm, or would you join the herd?
By Eniola Edusi
★★★★☆
Rhinoceros is showing at Almeida Theatre until Saturday, 26 April.
