Eugene Ionesco called Exit the King his “attempt at an apprenticeship in dying,” but at American Players Theater, it is mastery of the process toward the inevitable end. Ionesco maintained “we’re all of us dying men who refuse to die” as his King tries to do. Suspense comes not from what will happen but when and especially how. The Guard at the King’s Throne Room (Casey Hoekstra, humorous as he tries making serious announcements) guides us into the play and provides briefings of its public scenes. Against a curtained background, showing the room is a stage, a large throne is at the apex of several wide steps. A wooden semi-circled floor holds small, unbacked seats where, in the main, the Queens sit. James Rhodes makes certain The King loves ascending his throne. His given name, Beranger, is that of the Everyman who’s the major hero of Ionesco’s works. Clever, since The King will consciously go through what every human is doing: dying. He turns out to be a not very admirable man, totally self-centered and ultimately not caring for his royal duties or any of even those people closest to him. Yet Rhodes is capable of making us feel sorry for him. Tracy Michelle Arnold coolly and calmly plays Marguerite, the King’s First Queen, an unsympathetic realist who sits at the middle edge of the stage and comments on the inevitable. She tries to instruct second Queen Marie (charming, sympathetic Cassia Thompson), but what can she get through to such a typical young person? Besides, the King lavishes kisses on Marie while barely acknowledging Marguerite. The Doctor (John Pribyl, authoritative) diagnoses the King’s condition using a telescope and astronomer’s gadget. Having seen disaster in the skies, he tells the King, who wonders if he’s being seen as abnormal, that he’s going to die. From here on, there are all sorts of attempts to cure his condition, even having him use will power, make commands, or ask others to give their lives to save his. All lead to a first climax of surety he will quickly die and how he will or will not be remembered. There are at least two more climaxes before the King accepts his fate. Several audience members suggested the play should have been edited. But each temporary comeback reveals more of his and others’ (including Sarah Day’s nicely surprising common housekeeper who then becomes a nurse) accomplishments or lack of same. (There are some interesting asides about controversy over who wrote Shakespeare’s plays.) The topic of love gets wryly covered. So does life in general. And dying and death in particular. Some of it is hard to take, but director Tim Ocel has faithfully respected Ionesco’s wish that his play is useful in making one think of the inevitability of death and perhaps accept the wisdom of preparing for it.
