Culture Writer
French existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre wrote No Exit to illustrate his belief that human beings are “condemned to be free.” He thought mankind to be overwhelmed by the choices that freedom provides, particularly the choice to do good or evil. Sartre leaned toward the Marxist philosophy that people are better off if such choices are not made available to them, rather than depending upon a free society’s system of laws and justice to deal with those who choose evil over good.
Politics aside, No Exit is a look at hell without fire and brimstone. The one-act play, set in a tastelessly furnished room with no windows, no light switch, and no way out, presumes that someone has sent a particular three sinners to spend eternity together for a reason. The logic is that, like a puppeteer, this “someone” who pulls the strings has matched up the play’s trio such that the three can’t help causing each other as much emotional pain and suffering as possible, simply by virtue of who they are. Together, one might say they constitute anti-soul mates.
It is an interesting, perhaps even reasonable, theory. And one with a host of possibilities.
Andrew Vonderschmitt directs the play, translated by Paul Bowles, in which Garcin (Anthony B. Cohen), Inez (Natalie Beisner), and Estelle (Genevieve Simon) are escorted to the room one-by-one by the valet (Douglas Seagraves, but played on the night I attended by Derek Bulger).
While Garcin and Estelle are initially in denial as to why they would be sent to hell, the acutely self-aware Inez makes no such attempt to deceive herself and the others. She immediately owns up to several uncomfortable realities, among them that she dislikes men, is attracted to Estelle, and was probably sent to hell for sleeping with a friend’s wife.
The selfish and vain Estelle becomes intensely anxious at the prospect of an existence without mirrors. And her crime was despicable indeed.
Finally, Garcin, who initially believes that all will be well if the three can just agree to maintain a quiet and considerate demeanor toward one another, eventually exposes his insecurities and vulnerabilities, ripe for exploiting by the women.
The ways in which the three occupants of the room died are as varied as their flawed personalities, and are largely beside the point. What matters is the disturbing predicament in which they now find themselves, and the fact that, as audience members we must consider the prospect of what their situation would be like if we were one of them.
The impact of the play should be to render us “scared straight,” at least temporarily. But somehow we don’t identify with these characters. They seem always to be outside of us and our experience, however flawed our lives may have been to date.
So maybe the point is that these are people, not just criminally flawed, but without conscience or remorse. And maybe that is why we don’t relate.
Cohen does an absolutely spectacular job in his role, changing with moment-to-moment fluidity the complex motivations that make up his character. Beisner renders the disquieting Inez with seeming brute force, her relentless intimidation of the others no doubt necessitated by the role.
We imagine at first that Simon’s Estelle will be no match for either Inez nor Garcin. But she very gradually sheds her sorority-girl façade and proves a conniving match for the other two.
Welcome to hell.
No Exit continues at the Long Beach Playhouse Studio Theatre through Aug. 23. Cost is $24 for general-admission tickets, $21 for seniors and $14 for students with valid ID. Performances are Fridays and Saturdays at 8pm, with Sunday matinees at 2pm. The Long Beach Playhouse is located at 5021 E. Anaheim St. Call (562) 494-1014, option 1, for reservations and information. Tickets are also available online at lbplayhouse.org .
