"I am not capitulating!" The final line of
Eugene Ionesco's absurdist masterpiece Rhinoceros, and in fact the entire play (written in response to the rise of Fascism in pre-WWII Europe), have never felt more relevant. I first saw this play in early 2017 as a response to the first Trump presidency (
7th House Theatre's "pop up production"), and again the following year at
Theatre in the Round. It felt so timely and urgent then, but here we are eight years later, and everything is so much worse. All around us people are turning into rhinoceroses, falling in line, and trampling over the things we hold most dear. Millions of Americans protested across the country in the "Hands Off" protests last weekend, and Pangea World Theater is doing their part by mounting a production of this important allegory. With a strong ten-person cast, it's well-staged at the gorgeous Southern Theater, and feels like it was written for this moment. A handful of performances remain over the next two weekends -
click here for info and tickets.
Rhinoceros takes place in a little town that could be anywhere, with modern costumes and props (including references to smart phones and social media posts projected on the wall), setting it squarely in the present. We follow the story through an everyman type named Berenger, who drinks a little too much but is otherwise unremarkable. Nothing much happens as the town citizens gather at a little cafe, until a rhinoceros inexplicably runs through town, a little cat as the first casualty. People in the crowd argue about what they saw, and then it happens again. The next day at an office, the argument about what really happened continues, until one of the employees shows up for work as a rhinoceros. More and more people begin to turn into the rhinoceroses, even Berenger's good and sensible friend Jean, before his very eyes. Soon Berenger and his crush Daisy are the only humans left, until Daisy decides to give in and join the other side. Berenger is soon surrounded by rhinoceroses and has lost all sense of what's right or normal. As he's overwhelmed, he cries out, "I am not capitulating!" But what can one person do against a herd of rhinoceroses?*
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| Ernest Briggs as Berenger (photo by Bruce Silcox) |
Pangea's Artistic Director Dipankar Mukherjee directs the piece with the perfect absurd tone, balancing the comedy of this silly little town with a sense of impending doom. Everyone in the talented and diverse ten-person cast embodies their quirky little character(s), making them each distinct and specific. They move with almost robotic movements in the office scene, and animalistic movements as they form one giant rhino (choreographed by Sandra Agustin). As our unlikely hero Berenger, Ernest Briggs is so great and relatable as this everyman character, the person through whom we experience this traumatic event. As his friend Jean, Tyler Stamm starts off as a bit uptight, and then later has a remarkably physical transformation into a rhinoceros. Everyone in the ensemble (including Bruce Abas, Nate Kay, Kirby Bennett, Sayli Khadilkar, Mallory K. Lewis, Julie Ann Nevill, Shruti Priti Ramesh, and Sudarsna Mukund) does their part to build the world of the story.
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| the cafe (photo by Bruce Silcox) |
For the first act, the spacious performance space at the Southern is filled with cafe tables, which feels charming and realistic despite the fact that the cast is miming with invisible props. The tables are moved around to transform into an office space in the second act, with the miming of typing and other office work, and slight tweaks to the modern wardrobe. The heard but never seen rhinoceroses are well represented with booming sounds, projections, and the cast being jostled around as if in an earthquake. Composer and musician Vladimir Garrido accompanies the storytelling with a live soundscape, playing various flutes and percussive instruments and utilizing a looping technique. (Set design by Orin Herfindal, costume design by Abigail Vaughan.)
Unfortunately, Rhinoceros never seems to go out of style; thanks to Pangea for recognizing this fact and staging it in this moment. As I've written about this play in the past, "It would be terrifying if it weren't so funny. It would be funny if it weren't so terrifying."
