A mesmerizing Geoffrey Rush sparks 'Exit the King'
NEW YORK (AP) -- We haven't seen a star turn like this in quite a while.
Geoffrey Rush, making his Broadway debut, manages a mesmerizing high-wire act of balancing outrageous comedy and overwhelming tragedy in a fascinating revival of Eugene Ionesco's absurdist "Exit the King."
Rush, an Academy Award winner for 1996's "Shine," not only stars as the extravagant title character but co-wrote this often hilarious translation (with director Neil Armfield) which opened Thursday at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre.
The actor is a total chameleon, part vaudeville comic, part circus clown, part overwrought tragedian, in his larger-than-life portrayal of a monarch who's dying while his kingdom collapses around him -- dying, but refusing to go quietly. "I will die when I feel like it," he sniffs royally.
The king, named Berenger, is sort of an everyman (think of one of Samuel Beckett's more forlorn characters) but done up in regalia that accentuates his cadaverous, hollow-eyed face.
In fact, the trappings could not be more kingly. This ruler wears an ornate crown and a robe with an never-ending train. The same wardrobe goes for his two queens: his cynical first helpmate, Marguerite, played by Susan Sarandon, and a younger second wife, portrayed by Lauren Ambrose.
The two women, as well as the king, are fussed over by a comic servant, Juliette, played by a raucous Andrea Martin. A very funny woman, she brings a burlesque zest to the proceedings, a sense of fun that is not only verbal but physical. Watch as she scampers across the Barrymore stage with the sure-fire alacrity of a demented gazelle.
Ionesco's play, written in the early 1960s, is a meditation on death, from the cynical to the sentimental and all points in between. The cynical is represented by Marguerite, whose sardonic wit is nicely captured by Sarandon. She's the voice of unadulterated realism, as she literally ticks off the hours and minutes until the king's death. This being absurdist theater, Marguerite announces his demise will occur at the end of the play.
Her tough-mindedness is echoed by the king's physician, who also tries to prepare Berenger for his exit from this earth. As portrayed by William Sadler, the man displays a cheery sense of the practical, no matter how unsettling.
On the opposite end of the emotional spectrum is the king's weepy second wife, played by Ambrose with a permanent wail as she valiantly tries to keep him from losing hope. Despite the incessant crying, Ambrose manages to make the young woman sweetly appealing.
The play's fifth character is a soldier (Brian Hutchison), fitted in armor, who serves to proclaim bulletins on the king's declining physical condition. He also announces the play's intermission.
This cheeky awareness of the audience is one of the pleasures of "Exit the King," which, under Armfield's inventive direction, exults in its own overt theatricality and a breaking down of the fourth wall. At one point, the king marches up and down the aisles of the Barrymore, talking to the theatergoers as if they were his subjects.
Late in Act 2, as death gets closer, the play gets more somber. One by one, the other characters leave the stage until only the king and his first queen are left. It's a haunting, disquieting moment as Sarandon's queen, in a calm, gentle voice, leads her husband to his final moment.
Watching Berenger on his throne as the light fades is a guaranteed shiver you won't forget.
(Copyright 2009 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.)
