NEW YORK—The five stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance. All are brought into play in the Broadway revival of Eugene Ionesco's Exit the King, with an absolutely brilliant performance by Australian actor Geoffrey Rush, making his Broadway debut in the title role.
The land ruled by King Berenger (Rush) is in disarray. Once a thriving country, it has fallen into decay and ruin, with its geographical boundaries literally contracting as the play goes on, and its citizens seemingly disappearing into the blackness.
The reason for this catastrophe is the King himself. After ruling the country for over 400 years as a megalomaniac monarch with numerous discoveries to his credit (including the splitting of the atom), the time has come for him to shuffle off this mortal coil. This is a fact he simply refuses to accept—despite the warnings of his wife, Queen Marguerite (Susan Sarandon) that he "will die at the end of the play," a sentiment echoed by his Doctor (William Sadler).
No matter how much the King tries to deny the validity of Marguerite's proclamation, he is seemingly on an inevitable collision course with it, turning old and infirm before everyone's eyes. Berenger's only ally is his new wife, Queen Marie (Lauren Ambrose) who urges him to fight his demise with everything he has.
Rush and Director Neil Armfield, both of whom have been deeply involved with this production (including adapting the play from the original text), present a deeply engrossing tragicomedy about one who simply will not go gently into that good night, despite urgings from many corners he do just that.
Rush, who literally becomes the King, brings forth a man with a childlike innocence and powerful resistance, refusing to acknowledge what is happening, even as his land and subjects are falling apart around him. A sort of tragic straight man, Berenger continues on, driving the rest of the characters to distraction as they wait for him to expire, only to be confounded with his various triumphant declarations, such as that he can still stand or walk. Each act of defiance gives him hope that he may be the person who finally cheats death.
Working hand in glove with Rush is Armfield's guiding hand—one that allows the various actors to break the fourth wall, as well as emote various nonlinear statements in a completely realistic manner.
While Rush is wonderful in the title role, Sarandon and Ambrose fare less well. Sarandon comes across as regal enough (and all-knowing), but other than a few strong moments, she doesn't have the stage presence the role requires, especially when working against Rush, who is much more in the moment of the play. The same is true for Ambrose, who doesn't elicit much sympathy or interest. (Although both women get off a few good zingers against each other in regard to whom actually has the King's best interests at heart.)
Faring much better are Andrea Martin and Brian Hutchinson in comedic supporting roles. Martin, a sort of maid who attends to all of the Royal Family's immediate needs, offers a barely repressed kinetic energy. She skips rather than walks and is always busying herself with various bits of business, such as making sure the royalty’s extra-long capes are unfolded and placed on the floor just so. A stand-in for the everyday folk, she is efficient (and funny) to the extreme, showing just how helpless the Royal Family would be without her.
Also quite good is Brian Hutchison as a Guard, a somewhat befuddled fellow dressed in a clanking ancient suit of armor. Part soldier, part town crier, he shares news with whomever is left of the kingdom. Yelling out the most mundane pieces of business, he is another soul trying to give reason to his own existence, doing so with perfect timing, provoking laughs with every move and announcement.
The set by Dale Ferguson is well done. The entire stage is given a decaying and decrepit appearance, like the King and country itself, as they struggle to stay alive. Ferguson's costume design and lighting by Damien Cooper also work well in this regard.
Exit the King is an engrossing morality tale about those who have overstayed their welcome and how some people will struggle to the very end to deny what is right in front of them—or is it? A piece that provokes much discussion, it's an interesting and amusing work indeed.
Exit the King
Ethel Barrymore Theater
243 West 47th Street
Tickets: 212-239-6200 or www.telecharge.com
Running Time: Approximately 2 hours, 15 minutes
Closes: June 14
Judd Hollander is the New York correspondent for the London publication The Stage.
