Omar Elerian may just be the most exciting theatre director working these days, at least in London. His interpretation of Ionesco’s 20th century satire, Rhinoceros, is searingly relevant. A play about mass hysteria, groupthink, and the refusal to surrender, Elerian’s production is whimsical from the start, creating a world that is playful and silly, where tables float and people are caricatures of self interest. Where Berenger (an outstanding Șopé Dìrìsú) doesn’t fit in; he doesn’t look the same, know the choreography or where to stand, doesn’t understand the “rules”. This creates the perfect platform for the devolution of society; everyone else is playing by the rules, even the interlocutor (a brilliant Paul Hunter), moving in choreography, sharing opinions, movements, thoughts. And suddenly, only Berenger and Daisy remain….alone, isolated in their sanity. Sound like the way many of us feel right now?
Elerian’s updates to the text are seamless — only the giant Ionesco nerds like myself would notice the differences — and provide just the right balance of old references and new so that it doesn’t feel like we’re watching an “update” despite the clarity of commentary on 2025 Western civilisation. And I’d be remiss not to mention the exquisite choreography of the production; every movement and breath choreographed beautifully, so that the cast function as a living, breathing unit, of which Berenger sits outside. They are the Rhinoceros. We all are.
Ionesco
Kathryn Hunter and Marcello Magni in The Chairs
The Chairs by Eugene Ionesco @ Almeida Theatre
In the week since I saw this beautiful production, the world has turned inside out. Last weekend the frantic resonance of The Old Man and The Old Woman echoed of Covid, of restrictions. The “protests” in Canada were still ongoing, with thousands of Canadians, supported by the American right, occupying our capital to protest perceived injustice — public health measures. The police cleared this out, and within just a handful of days, Russia invaded Ukraine, and the entire world is on edge. The parting moments of this production, things figuratively (and literally) falling apart, a pile of rubble as The Speaker gives THE IDEA, keep flashing in my mind as I watch the daily news.
This production, which playfully adjusts and adapts the script — living in it rather than seeing it as a museum piece — demands the audience think about the people we don’t see, and the pressures we put on one another. The spectacle of performance in the public sphere, in politics. Supported by truly outstanding design, the production leaned in to reminding us that it was a play from the very opening moments, and any time the audience might start to get sucked in to the “world of the play”, pulls that from under us, reminding us again — THIS is spectacle. THIS is performance. This isn’t to say it is serious. One would be doing a disservice to Ionesco to miss out on the darkly comic opportunities in the script — certainly not a risk here. It is shockingly funny, irreverent, self referential. And as such, also deeply moving and resonant.
It is surprisingly uncommon to see this sort of playful irreverence on the English stage. Try to see it if you can, before March 5.