Ionesco’s “Rhinoceros,” an absurdist play about the dangers of fascism and conformity that premiered in Paris in 1960, is told through the perspective of Bérenger. An unconfident, shy man, Bérenger ends up as the last human in his own skin as a plague of “rhinoceritis” slowly transforms the people of his small French village into rhinoceroses. (No, I’m not kidding.)
Fascism is about control, and “Rhinoceros” portrays this quite colorfully- and at times, “colorlessly.” The opening scene includes an array of carefully arranged gray chairs amid a dark background, symbolizing a society that is conformist from the very start. The sounds of a rhinoceros crashing through the town square cause a panic, and all the actors onstage leap into motion- an allegory for the alarm and mindlessness of a crowd. No leader steps in to subdue the panic, and the scene ends with this flurry of activity.
The second scene shows Bérenger at work in the government printing department- an homage to Orwell’s “1984.” The office workers discuss the rhino rumors, arguing about trivialities such as “whether it is an Asian or an African one, sporting a single or a double tusk.” These minutiae distract from the larger issue- exactly what fascist propaganda aims to do.
As this conversation is going on, the floor starts to slip from under their feet as the tiered set rises and tilts the actors towards the stage. This literal disorientation is a metaphor for the mental distress and anxiety caused by uncertainty, rumors, and the absurd.
The end of “Rhinoceros,” a pledge by Bérenger to retain his humanity and not join the “flock of sheep” (or, in this case, rhinoceroses) raises the question: is conformity about refusing to leave the baseline status quo that you know, or about acquiescence to the pull of the masses? The question is open-ended; it is up to you to see the play for yourself and answer it.