No Exit: Tough to Watch, But You Can't Look Away
When the entire play takes place in a claustrophobic room which is to be designated as hell, you know you're not exactly in for a fun ride.
But while Jean-Paul Sartre's No Exit can be almost excruciating at times in its bleakness, it makes for a fairly compelling night of theater. And Scena Theater's current rendition, a reprisal from another take not too long ago, is a faithful take with relatively few missteps.
In the work, we've got a masochistic lesbian, a self-involved socialite and a journalist entirely lacking in character, not exactly a group one might be eager to spend time with; after all, they did end up in hell. But we're not talking the fire and brimstone version. "Hell is other people" has almost become a cliche at this point, but there's nothing inane about the way Sartre deftly makes each character into the other's torturer.
It's engrossing to watch the trio swap alliances and vendettas, chip at each other's armor, gouge at each newly opened wound with abandon. The idea of the three banding together and supporting rather than undoing each other never really occurs to these individuals, so wrought they are with insecurity, pride and outright malice. Scena has fashioned a set that provides a sparse but simultaneously claustrophobic environment for the proceedings.
Regen Wilson is appropriately oily and entirely credible as Cradeau, the traitorous reporter, while Maura Stadem is an icy, souless Estelle, the wealthy wife with a devastating secret. But most gravitating is Elle Wilhite's deplorable, cackling Inez, who makes no secret of her agendas and, appropriately, allows little room for sympathy, while still showing vulnerability. Chris Moss, however, relies too much on inexplicable eccentricity for his small role as the valet and guide to the underworld - his presence is, if anything, distracting.
Sartre's vision is a bleak one, and No Exit isn't a comfortable experience, but it is undeniably a fascinating one. The show runs through Oct 21 at the Warehouse Theater. Tickets are available online.