A theatrical triumph emerges in ‘Exit the King’

Henri Lubatti, center, stars as the doomed King Bérenger in Exit the King at A Noise Within, alongside Erika Soto, Lynn Robert Berg and Joy DeMichelle. The absurdist dark comedy runs through May 31. (Photo by Craig Schwartz)

Pasadena’s award-winning A Noise Within theatre is presenting a rare opportunity to see Eugene Ionesco’s absurdist farcical dark comedy Exit the King, translated by Donald Watson and directed by Michael Michetti, through May 31.

In his landmark book The Theatre of the Absurd, Martin Esslin coined the term to define a post-World War II movement of playwrights like Samuel Beckett, Ionesco, Jean Genet and others who portrayed the human condition as meaningless and irrational through illogical plots, nonsensical dialogue, and a rejection of traditional dramatic conventions.

When I first read Exit the King in the ’60s, I thought it was a play that was undoable.

Award-winning sound designer Jeff Gardner greets us with eerie sounds and European circus music as we enter the theatre. Throughout the production, he peppers the action with the creaks and groans of the castle, the rumbling of earthquakes, the sparking of the exit sign, and the sounds of a kingdom crumbling before us.

Tessi Kakagawa’s brilliant set design on the thrust stage depicts a somewhat worn-down surreal gothic throne room, with a throne center stage and two smaller thrones on each side. Voluptuous red velvet curtains frame the room from front to back, adding a touch of regality. A guard stands next to the solid carved wooden entrance door. Above the door is a strikingly modern illuminated green exit sign. Entrances and exits to the wings are positioned left and right in the back.

Lighting designer Jared A. Sayeg highlights both the setting and the action. Angela Balogh Calin’s costumes define the characters and are pivotal as the king discards his robes and garments until he is defeated before us in faded red long johns.

In the play’s first scene, Queen Marguerite, the king’s first wife, informs the king he’s going to die by the end of the play. Joy DeMichelle is regal in her unflinching stern demeanor. The walls have cracks in them. The heater doesn’t work. Outside, the kingdom is coming apart. Near the end, she disappears as if yanked into the wings.

Queen Marie, the king’s second wife, is played with delightful energy and comic flair by Erica Soto. Dressed in a pink ballerina outfit and extreme makeup, she indulges his illusions and grasps for him to recover while mourning his fading vitality.

Near the play’s end, she too disappears as if yanked into the wings.

The doctor — Ralph Cole Jr., whose hair stands on edge, as does his entire performance — tells us, “Mars and Saturn have collided. The sun is exhausted. Yesterday it was spring, now it is November. The trees are dying. The earth is quaking.” He tells the king he will die at the end of the play in one hour and a half.

Juliette, the servant and nurse, is the only one who works, and she’s fed up. KT Vogt gives us a quirky salt-of-the-earth character who tells us, “Life is not beautiful. I feel tired. It’s boring. It makes me hot.” When she talks of her troubles, the king pays no attention and expresses no empathy.

Throughout the madness, Lynn Robert Berg as the guard and herald is both comical and dramatic as he shouts over-the-top announcements, entrances, and commentary. As the king deteriorates, the guard’s announcements become erratic, pointless, and contradictory. As the play nears its end and the universe dissolves, the guard simply fades away and vanishes into nothingness.

“The king is dying. Long live the king.”

Henri Lubatti is outstanding as the 400-year-old king, white-faced, crown slightly askew, garments coming off, grasping onto his tilting universe. His facial expressions and extreme physical comedy are expressed through his falling, tripping, and lurching as he moves through narcissistic denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance.

“Why was I born if I couldn’t live forever?”

Lubatti shifts from demanding eternal remembrance and raging against his limitations to finding beauty in everyday existence, culminating in a final isolated fade into nothingness.

In the moving finale, theatrical magic occurs. First one, then two, then three, then all of the red velvet curtains are gone. Heartbeats. The cracks in the walls light up and widen. The king, in his faded red long johns, is downstage center motionless. Marguerite removes his invisible ball and chain and, in slow motion, cuts the invisible strings that bind him. Lubatti’s absolute stillness and control draw us to him. Marguerite is gone. As the door opens, there is fog and a blinding golden light. The exit sign sparks and goes out.

And the king is gone.

Tickets are available online at A Noise Within, by phone at (626) 356-3121, or at the box office.