Review: Rhinoceros (Almeida Theatre)

Review by Daz Gale

⭐️⭐️⭐️

An absurd satire comes to the Almeida Theatre as Omar Elerian once again takes on one of Eugène Ionesco’s works, following his production of The Chairs at the same theatre in 2022. A production I enjoyed when I saw it, the years since has seen the Almeida go from strength to strength with shows transferring to the West End and New York and no shortage of rave reviews from me personally. Would this winning streak be able to continue with Rhinoceros or would it fail to give me the horn?

Written in 1959, Rhinoceros starts off as a fairly conventional play (in terms of narrative, at least – we’ll come on to the direction shortly) as Jean and Berenger meet for a drink in a provincial town in France. What starts as a normal meeting takes a turn when a rhinoceros charges through the town square. An unlikely event but not impossible, I guess – however, when a second rhinoceros appears, it leads to everyone’s worst fears being realised – rhinoceritis is spreading, turning people into rhinoceroses faster than a stampede. How will humanity survive this epidemic and is it even worth them attempting to?

Absurd in every meaning of the word, Rhinoceros is not the most conventional piece of theatre, nor should it be. Ionesco’s work has been translated by Elerian and modernised to include current events and buzz-words, with references to “Fake news” among the ways the epidemic is dealt with. Not the easiest of shows to settle into but it wears its weirdness with pride in an extremely surreal evening of theatre. The issue is I genuinely have no idea how much I enjoyed it as opposed to how much I appreciated its artform and attempt to be different. Not an ideal position for a reviewer to be in.

The best way to justify it is that Rhinoceros certainly didn’t bore me at all. It may have confused me at times but it certainly amused me throughout. Omar Elerian’s direction amplifies the surreal nature of the piece, immediately obliterating the fourth wall with audience participation and describing set pieces not present while actors break character, moan about how long things are taking and swear. It sometimes struggles to identify the tone it wants to go for but once you immerse yourself in to this particular style and world, it becomes much better to come to terms with.

Elerian’s direction is what keeps Rhinoceros so captivating with a tongue-in-cheek approach that takes the strange and makes it fun with a great style and some inspired choices to replicate the rhinoceroses. This particularly comes to life with Elena Pena’s atmospheric sound design, requiring cast members to stand at the sides replicating noises, turning into foley artists as well as rhinoceroses.

The kazoo plays an integral part in this story too (not a sentence I ever thought I’d write in a review) with one unsuspecting audience member being chosen to become a rhinoceros using one (it will make sense when you see the play, I promise). Returning to my seat after the interval, myself and other random audience members were given kazoos for the second act in what was initially humorous but far too overused, crossing a line which, in turn, made the show a bit too gimmicky for my liking. It is hard to settle in to a story, particularly as the darker aspects of the themes come to life when you are asked to blow on a kazoo frequently, though I guess this adds a far more realistic element to the theme of resisting conformity.

The cast do well to follow the stage directions they are given out loud while retaining their humanity, even when they are supposedly no longer humans themselves. Paul Hunter narrates with a cheeky charisma, acting as the mediator between the rest of the cast and the audience in a play that isn’t quite immersive (kazoo’s aside) but feels like it should be. Hayley Carmichael is a particular highlight in her variety of roles, particularly Mrs Boeuf, with a knack for precise comic timing, while Joshua McGuire thrills in one of the most memorable and demanding moments in the second act as Jean.

Though initially underused, Anoushka Lucas comes into her own in the second act with a beefed up role for her Daisy, getting an opportunity to showcase her beautiful singing voice in a musical sequence that surprises in multiple ways. The standout cast member is Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù, taking on Berenger in a pivotal role that anchors the story and pushes the rest of the play along. In a slow-burning performance, his anguish and reluctance bursts through as he retains the necessary humanity even when the situation reaches its most absurd. Though Rhinoceros can be inconsistent elsewhere, this is a real cohesiveness to his performance and a natural growth that is captivating to witness.

Rhinoceros can be open to interpretation and requires the audience to use their imagination. Starting with the line “Jump and theatre will catch you”, it had many an interesting idea and was like nothing I had seen before with plenty of humorous and mad moments. The biggest problem with it is it gets a bit too muddled in trying to carve out its own identity, often losing itself in the narrative. This may very well have been the intent as it beautifully reflects the struggle of Berenger in the play, but a curtain call that went from unconventional to maddening and an overall uneven watch means that in its attempts to adapt, it loses sight of who it is. Charging headfirst into the dangers of conformity, this wild ride proves to be a unique and still enjoyable experience, though perhaps not quite as mighty as a rhinoceros itself.

Rhinoceros plays at the Almeida Theatre until 26th April. Tickets from www.almeida.co.uk

Photos by Marc Brenner