Omar Elerian returns to the Almeida and to Eugène Ionesco, translating and directing Rhinocerous following his success with The Chairs starring husband-and-wife duo Kathryn Hunter and the late Marcello Magni in 2022.
It is (appropriately) absurdly brilliant. Everyman Berenger (Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù) has arrived late, dishevelled and hungover for a catch-up with his friend Jean (Joshua McGuire) who is displeased with what he sees as his friend’s lowly state of being. He offers him a comb and a tie to sort out his appearance but as he lectures Berenger about life he is interrupted by a rhinoceros that stampedes through the town square. Another rhinoceros follows and before long the entire town is transforming into the ungulates.
That is to boil Elerian’s adaptation down to its basest parts. With the play usually read as a reaction to the rise of fascism, as the townspeople one by one conform, the director implicates the audience in events through a narrator (Paul Hunter) who takes us from light-hearted audience participation to culpability for what happens in the play – though some of the kazoo-playing moments are a little overplayed (pun intended).
While the absurdist comedy rises, so too do the stakes as Berenger becomes increasingly isolated after Jean’s transformation into a rhinoceros – a metamorphosis that is stunningly created by McGuire. Played out on Ana Inés Jabares-Pita’s clinical white stage that provides a blank canvas, the narrator supplies, often incorrect, stage directions that frustrate the cast who must act then act them out incorrectly – the layers of conformity growing.
All of this is wonderfully acted by an impressive ensemble that has no weak links. Alan Williams is gloriously deadpan, Hunter’s sardonic narrator holds us in permanent content and Anoushka Luca artfully critiques Ionesco’s underwriting of the play’s main female character. McGuire, Hayley Carmichael, Sophie Steer and John Biddle are their equals as they buzz around Dìrísù who holds the centre despite Berenger’s growing despair.
Though the fascist commentary remains, Elerian focuses on conformity. As Berenger is challenged on his reluctance to accept the new herd in town, his co-worker – now played by four characters – visits him with the pretence of checking on his wellbeing while attempting to force the new narrative onto him. Elerian saves the greatest image for a final crescendo that I will leave spoiler-free. It is sensationally and devastatingly delivered by Dìrísù – visceral, haunting and unforgettable.
Rating: ★★★★☆ (Very good)
