An extraordinary amount has been written on what happens after death, despite the fact that no one in a position to write about it has actually experienced it.
That endless fascination and fear with the unknown is perhaps why hell is the perfect setting for “No Exit,” a play by French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre.
Sartre’s hell appears as a single room with no windows, but this is a misnomer.
The entire room acts as a window. The one thing the characters do more than anything else, besides trying to rape each other, is watch people and time passing on Earth — an act usually imagined for those residing in heaven.
One by one, three strangers are ushered in by a valet (Rachel Leos): Garcin, a pacifist deserter (Paul Rodriguez); Inez, an oddly predatory lesbian (Amanda Machon); and Estelle, a catty, narcissistic socialite (Jessica Myers).
The characters have a strange obsession with torture — who will torture them, when they will be tortured and with what will they be tortured. But this hell is a bit more subtle than fire and brimstone.
In their roles, Rodriguez and Myers seem to have a problem with subtlety at times, overstating and overacting, while Machon, by enjoyable contrast, is coldly understated and driven by purpose. Leo’s role as the valet is the perfect balance of both. She left far too soon and was sorely missed.
And, boy, does the play feel long.
Essentially, it’s only a single scene almost two hours long with — that’s right — no exits. It’s not uncommon for plays to be performed in one long go without a break, or if they’re three acts or more, with intermissions, they can run as long as 2-3 hours. But once they’re all dropped off and the valet disappears forever — as long as the characters are trapped in this room — so are you.
The play lacks visual variety, and peculiarly placed light changes try to offset this. They’re almost artsy but unnecessary and seem to stem from a lack of inspiration.
By and large, the show is at its best when there’s no talking. It happens three separate times — long pauses in exposition-heavy dialogue. The actors speak worlds more in silence. They closely consider their eternal fates in this single room shared by two unknown people. Even Sartre’s words can’t create the palpable, brittle tension of stillness in hell.
In “The Sandman,” novelist Neil Gaiman suggests that those who reside in hell want and choose to be there. They believe they deserve it. Sartre’s hell is largely driven by guilt: Hell is what we make it.
Nonetheless, each character has a principle flaw and sin that are at long last revealed. Garcin is a coward; Estelle is vain, and Inez is cruel. All the characters, in the end, share each other’s faults. They are weak, disgusting people who deserve each other and deserve hell.
These are angry, nasty little people, with their insecurities bubbling over, lashing out to get everyone else before they are victimized. The existentialist piece is considerably damning of humanity.
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Hell isn’t other people. Hell is just quite a bit like middle school.
But why do these three people share this space? The sexual torture the characters inflict on each is considerable and detailed. The chain reaction begins with the aggressive Inez, the main instigator of most of the dramatic action. She lusts for the straight, but vain woman. This attention is sought as ferociously as it is rejected; and Estelle searches desperately for the only man in existence — a man who, in turn, rejects her through cowardice and disinterest.
The chain of human denial ends with a man too obsessed with the men of his living life and too weak to accept his fate and sexual consequences.
Even so, the technical ability of the actors is considerable, and it is not an easy play to do.
When they all go insane, you believe it.
*NO EXIT
Theatre X in the Center for the Arts
Thursday, Friday, Saturday at 7:30 p.m.
Sunday at 6 p.m.
$12 general, $10 faculty and seniors, $8 staff and students*
