Floyd King brings laughs — and a few tears — to the Washington stage

Local actor Floyd King, rehearses with the Shakespeare Theatre Company's production of The Way of the World, by William Congreve, directed by Michael Kahn, set to run September 30th-November 16th at the Lansburgh Theatre, on Wednesday, September 10, 2008 at The Shakespeare Theatre Company in Washington, DC. (Greg Whitesell/Examiner.)

For people who attend theater in Washington, it’s a familiar occurrence: No matter when he steps on stage, no matter what color his hair or what era his costume, Floyd King’s mere entrance delivers chuckles. This reaction is the result of a multitude of comedic roles at theaters ranging from his base at the Shakespeare Theatre Company to Studio Theatre, Folger Theatre and Woolly Mammoth, among others.

The clown in question settles into a chair at the Shakespeare Theatre’s rehearsal hall on Capitol Hill, where he was in rehearsals for Congreve’s “The Way of the World,” which opens Tuesday. Dressed in green khaki from head to toe, it’s only when he doffs his baseball cap that his signature cottony blond hair and large, round, dark-blue eyes emerge.

“Humor is a point of view, a choice of how to look at something. It has to do with how much hope you’ve got,” he said. “It’s how I deal with everything ... the more serious something is [in life], the more I look for humor. I have always connected with audiences, I can feel when I don’t have them in the palm of my hand. Sometimes that’s good, sometimes not ... the only thing I can do is play the part.”

Shakespeare picked King, rather than the other way around. He was always interested in words, but more the Southern Gothic variety, as in the works of William Faulkner and Truman Capote. It didn’t help that he had an English teacher who read the Bard aloud badly and cried.

“Most people who are successful are not doing what they intended; an actor goes where the work is. I love Shakespeare, but it’s something I grew to love. I fell in love.”

King thinks Washington theatergoers’ connection with Shakespeare is not typical; he attributes it to the area’s highly educated population, one that responds to words and elevated language. “It amazes me — I meet people all the time who say their children love me and Shakespeare. But it does have action, and naughty bits, and it’s thrilling.”

King, a native of Texas, is the product of an unlikely alliance — a Cherokee father whose profession was chemical engineering and a mother who just missed being Irish by her birth on a ship en route to America. He developed his sense of humor literally at the knee of his mother, whom he calls a Gracie Allen type, and her sister, who was more sardonic. King sat on the floor and howled at their conversations. He says there was never any parental pressure about what to do with his life.

“I was very ordinary. What was going on in my head I hid from everyone, but I couldn’t hide my sense of humor. Then the high school drama teacher said, ‘You have to be in this play.’ ”

When King arrived in Washington in 1980 to be in a production with the Folger Theater Group, the atmosphere he describes is worlds away from today. “There were no reserved seats, and people, mostly from Capitol Hill, lined up to get in. My check was delivered by being tossed out a window to me. It was simpler, there was a lot less pressure.”

Director Jack Going took time out during rehearsals for Steve Martin’s “The Underpants” at Olney Theatre Center to talk about his work with King. Going acknowledged that it can be a challenge for well-known actors to avoid relying on audiences’ expectations.
“With stars, often people want to see what they’ve done before, it comes with the territory. But Floyd has a lot of integrity. His comic sensibility is incredible. Floyd really understands what’s funny about any situation, which is a joy for a director. His comedy is organic, it’s true. He can be in any play I do, even roles he’s not right for,” he added with a laugh.

King admits he’s had his fill of being a star, though he doesn’t mind when people acknowledge him. And some of his roles could hardly be called comedy.

“Just being funny doesn’t interest me anymore. The older you get, you’re more serious, you realize life isn’t infinite. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have dreams or mountains to climb.”

For over a decade, the Washington region has had more theater productions per year than any city except New York, according to Linda Levy Grossman, president and chief executive officer of the Helen Hayes Awards, first given in 1985 to celebrate the area’s professional theater. “Chicago has more companies, L.A. more buildings, every city has their niche, and being prolific has been ours,” she said.

She credits actors like King with helping enrich theater here. “Floyd is almost a timeline of Washington theater. He’s one of the most engaging, charming, versatile and beloved actors in the profession.”

It is in witnessing King’s comic turns along with his more serious roles that his talent can be fully appreciated. Years ago in a production of “Richard III,” he had a small role, the ailing King Edward, definitely not a comic part. It took this reporter most of a scene to realize who the actor was. He seems pleased at the story, and tells me that he was delighted when a frequent theatergoer approached him, saying, “Floyd King! So that’s what you look like!”

“It was a great compliment for an actor,” he said. Then, after a theatrical pause, he added, “But she didn’t say whether what I looked like was good or bad.”