Jude Magnotti ‘26
EE Co-Managing Editor
When you replete your memory of the most influential and well-respected actors of all time, it is hard not to include Gene Wilder among the many legends who have graced the audiences of theaters and cinemas with their presence. Despite having never won an Oscar, Wilder still remains one of the most revered and celebrated actors in film history, even after his unfortunate passing from Alzheimer’s disease in 2016.
In particular, many will remember Wilder primarily for his dazzling comedic performances in films such as The Producers, The Woman In Red, and of course, his enigmatic performance in Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory. Yet for all of Wilder’s comedic masterclasses, there is one performance that still flies under the radar as an exemplary exemplification of Wilder’s vast comedic and dramatic abilities on film and in theater.
1974 was a year of inordinate levels of success for the likes of Gene Wilder. Indeed, he had gleaned the spotlight before, but never before had he received the amount of attention and fame he did for his performances in Young Frankenstein, Blazing Saddles, and Thursday’s Game. Although these still serve as adequate representations of Wilder’s phenomenal interpretations, the true apotheosis of his performative ability came in the shape of a long-forgotten-about gem published and filmed in the same year: A film adaptation of Eugene Ionesco’s esteemed 1959 absurdist comedy Rhinoceros.
Premiered in Germany as a satirical and absurdist criticism of fascism and Naziism in the aftermath of WWII, Rhinoceros swept the world, becoming one of the most well written comedies under the branch of The Theater Of The Absurd.
Having enjoyed the delightful duo of Gene Wilder and Zero Mostel in The Producers, Hollywood brought the duo back together in a star-studded team up for the ages. Unfortunately, the film was poorly received, having been criticized for being “too theatrical” or “too contrived.” As such, it has been left to the wayside as merely a pointless pebble that someone might be left to find on the side of the road.
Fortunately for that person, this rock contains a precious gem in the form of quite possibly Gene Wilder’s most underrated performance. Modernized to take place in 1970’s USA instead of 1950’s France, Wilder plays a down on his luck kind-hearted drunk by the name of Stanley (or Berenger in the original script).
Stanley, depressed and stagnated by his meaningless life as a legal file clerk, finds little enjoyment or beauty in his life outside the company of his pompous condescending best friend John (or Jean played by Zero Mostel) and the apple of his eye in Daisy (played by Karen Black).
As Stanley begins to open up to his friend John about his condition, the world slowly starts to shift with everyone around him turning into rampaging rhinoceroses, a metaphor for individuals succumbing to fascism. Eventually, his friend, his love, and his co-workers all begin to conform to the way of the Rhinoceros with just Stanley and his individuality left.
In his performance as Stanley, Wilder gives 110%, perfectly portraying the ins and outs of every flaw and characteristic of his individual while balancing it out with his quirky comedic charm. He starts off lovable and laughable with the circumstances around him being treated as a comedy rather than a drama.
However, as the world slowly shifts into a tragedy, Wilder quickly shifts into god mode expressing the feelings and conflicts of Berenger in a way no other actor ever could. With just him left, Wilder seizes a moment of triumph and delivers an impassioned final monologue asserting that he will never conform nor capitulate to the rhinoceroses tyranny.
On top of his own performance, Wilder has incredible chemistry with his clown partner Zero Mostel as the two fully lean into The Theater Of The Absurd, bouncing off each other as chaos ensues. Ironic, it would seem that in one of his most forgotten performances, Wilder finally reaches the zenith of his acting potential.
Say what you want about the movie, say what you want about the directing, but don’t say ANYTHING about the mystical magic of arguably Gene Wilder’s best performance…