What an absurd way to spend an evening — watching some of my former THEA 112 classmates turn into odd-toed ungulates. UFV’s Winter 2024 production, Rhinoceros was ridiculous and timely. I could feel an earnest passion for the play radiating from every actor — their startling and over the top throaty screams and exclamations reverberated off the walls of D105. Associate professor and director Parjad Sharifi must’ve had a clear vision when he decided to bring this intricate play to UFV’s theatre department… The tendrils were still tangible even after the logic of the created world began to fall apart and my ears rang.
The handcrafted Warholian pop colour set was a signal to the audience that social critiques are forthcoming, as Andy Warhol is famous for commentary on popular culture, consumerism, and society through his art. Our lead is Berenger (played by Kyle Pagulayan), a withdrawn man bogged down by the monotonies of a life he can’t seem to fit himself into, finding solace in the bottom of a bottle. Pagulayan’s performance was technically skilled but at times felt drawn out
(we’ll blame that on Ionesco’s repetitive writing); though he had a unique way of engaging with the audience; a touch that brought even more intimacy to the small performance.
Hoop skirts, three-piece suits, and hair bows that match both shoes and purse made me yearn for the oppressive fashions of the 1950s — it was all very elegant. The dresses worn by Daisy (played by Jessica Blanchard), and Mrs. Boeuf (played by Chloe Loewen), were arguably the best costumes of the night, and they got even better with the addition of horns. I was taken by an ingénue performance by Blanchard, toeing the trope of the pick me girl, her bright blue eyes batted and rolled with good comedic timing.
The set design played off of the fifties costuming — positioning the audience within a fascist and futuristic world that aimed to be a funhouse mirror of our own. Everything the characters held was branded with “Ceros,” and when a character made an arbitrary reference; to the zoo, or laundry, or brushing their teeth, an advertisement popped up on the screens behind them as a “Ceros” product placement for our immediate purchase, in an inflated dollar amount with a kitchy marketing phrase. The characters were oblivious to the background of their lives being ruled by capitalist consumerism. Even as their actions and conversations were repeatedly heard, transformed, and sold back to them… sound familiar?
As the outside world became overrun by rhinoceroses, the play descended into paranoia and madness, though everyone maintained that everything was fine. Really, the words “Everything is Fine” even played on the screens, pulsing behind the cast in bold lettering. And the commitment to normalcy was apt; I became startlingly aware of the everyday routines of something like “lunch” that I participate in while violence pulsates off my little screen that I had silenced for the performance.
Conformity in the world of “Ceros” is the only escape because it feels impossible to affect change. As the characters suffer more excruciating breakdowns in communication, whirling Berenger and Daisy in and out of a love affair in a matter of lengthy minutes, there is the seemingly unavoidable relinquishing of power. We see that we cannot beat them and instead choose to join them.
Rhinoceros was boiling with the kind of zeal that is exclusive to student productions. When all the hands have affected the outcome in one way or another, that thing becomes everyone’s baby. And this baby screamed and stomped and cried its way into the world, and when you look at it that way, it was kind of beautiful. Be sure to check out the upcoming performances in 2024 Emerging Directors’ Showcase highlighting student directors from THEA 421, going live April 19, 25, and 26.
Kiara Okonkwo is a writer and creative. She received a diploma in Screenwriting from Vancouver Film School and is pursuing her Bachelor of Fine Arts in Creative Writing and Media and Communication Studies. Kiara values self-expression and authenticity.