REVIEWS OF NO EXIT

TALKIN' BROADWAY.COM

No Exit

Theatre Review by Matthew Murray

Eternity can be a very long time. The very concept of it is a difficult one to grasp, yet Jean-Paul Sartre's No Exit deals with it in a unique and effective way. Rodney Hakim's production of the show, currently appearing as part of the Midtown International Theatre Festival, is not perfect, but captures the essence of Sartre's work almost perfectly. Hakim has directed Stuart Gilbert's translation of the play with a very keen eye, bringing out the play's true essence while slightly deviating from typical scenic conventions. Though the dialogue still indicates the setting is a French drawing room, the setting for this production is completely black with the primary features being three black folding chairs downstage, and a black door and mantelpiece upstage. Hakim's simplicity of staging suits the show very well, for what else would one expect of Hell? It is there that the pacifist Garcin (Frank Tangredi), the commonplace Inez (Phyllis March), and the vain Estelle (Claudine Coffaro) are doomed to spend eternity under the guard of the local Valet, played by Stephen T. Wagner. The visitors in hell are not tortured by fire and brimstone, but rather by each other. Their unraveling of their own lives and the understandings they reach as they begin their eternity together are what comprise the play. Yet, despite there being very little action, Hakim has made sure the show is not dull for a moment. It is properly paced, the moments all properly weighted, and the drama and humor meted out in just the right amounts. His staging of the show in the intimate New 42nd Street Theatre brings the audience still closer to the action, making the character's plights all the more significant. Each of the actors is able to bring out the qualities of annoyance that are so necessary in the show, while not drawing focus from the others. Each actor makes significant creative contributions to the show, though unfortunately not consistently. That is the one major problem with them (and the show as a whole): The actors' performances and relationships too frequently seem to be a step or two behind the developments in the script. When this occurs, it does detract from the otherwise tight nature of the production. However, when the actors catch up, the show ignites and becomes gripping and engrossing again. Regardless of how long Inez, Estelle, and Garcin spend trapped in hell, in this production of No Exit the time passes all too quickly and never ceases to be entertaining along the way. 

OFF-OFF BROADWAY.COM
Every day a little death

No Exit

By Jean-Paul Sartre (translated by Stuart Gilbert)
Directed by Rodney Hakim
Midtown International Theatre Festival
New 42nd Street Theatre, 348 W. 42 St. 2nd fl. (279-4200)
Equity showcase (Festival closes Aug. 5; call for schedule)
Review by David Mackler

When a character is escorted into a room by someone who gives maddeningly nonspecific answers, it's a safe bet that he or she is now a resident at the Hotel Existential. The thrill of discovering the who/where/what of Jean-Paul Sartre's No Exit may be long since passed, but nagging questions about the meaning of life and death will always remain.

The cast of the Midtown International Theatre Festival's No Exit provided well-drawn portraits of the three new tenants of hell and clearly showed their struggles to manipulate the shifting dynamics of power and control. Since the dynamic of the play continually change as each player reaches out, rejects, desires, attacks, bemoans, and needles the others, it was fascinating to watch Garcin (Frank Tangredi), Inez (Phyllis March), and Estelle (Claudine Coffaro) try one approach after another to get (and keep) an upper hand. Their hopes, dreams, fears, and desires were so blatantly on display it was like watching three children in a sandbox. 

But while Sartre has written quite a lesson in human nature, it is also his fault that this production isn't more interesting. Plot points come across as so damned symbolic that the actors must work extra hard to keep the attention on themselves. And while the play was absorbing, it didn't become emotionally involving, instead remaining an intellectual exercise. That's what it is, of course, but there's enough soap opera to keep the drama-obsessed going for quite a while. However, the production did point out a commonly held fallacy of the play. While being confined to a limited space shared with other people is certainly hellish, Sartre's hell is more than that: it is the characters' awareness of being dead that's the kicker. Life will keep going on whether you are there or not, and there's nothing you can do about it. 

Director Rodney Hakim kept the action moving throughout the intermissionless 90 minutes. Some judicious tweaking of the script might have been in order though, as the play begins with much commentary on the Second Empire-style furniture of the room. Since the set (uncredited) was simply three chairs, this became another symbolic hurdle. But the costumes (designed by Rosa Faulisi), executed in black and white, provided their point all the better for not being commented on. This hell is completely bleached of color. 

Lighting (Jessica D'Aloisio) also made its point slyly, and was remarkably precise for a script that specifically mentions that there is no variance in light. When characters stepped to the place downstage where they could see the activities of the people whose lives they are no longer part of, their faces were brightly illuminated. And when the door to the room was opened, a bright red glow suggested just what was outside. In a play thick with philosophical arguing, it was a fitting joke. 
(Also with Stephen T. Wangner as the valet. Original electronic-style music by Peter Cline and Daniel Fine.)

Box Score: 
Writing: 1 out of 2
Directing: 1 out of 2
Acting: 2 out of 2
Sets: 1 out of 2
Costumes: 2 out of 2
Lighting/Sound: 2 out of 2
Return to Volume Eight, Number two Index 
Return to Volume Eight Index 
Return to Home Page 
Copyright 2001 David Mackler

THEATERMANIA.COM
Jul 24, 2001
No Exit, Happy Hour, and Sex Ed
By: Celena Cipriaso

NO EXIT In this age of realism and cynicism, few people can stomach pieces dealing with the higher themes of heaven and hell. The self-absorbed, “Me Generation” philosophy prohibits most people today from appreciating pieces that confront powers greater than those of a human being. Almost 60 years ago, a French writer who fully understood this cynicism created a world in which hell is not fire and torture but, ultimately, other people. Jean-Paul Sartre’s existentialist masterpiece No Exit, first produced in Paris in 1944, still rings with disturbing truth. Rodney Hakim’s production of No Exit, now playing at the New 42nd Street Theater as part of the Midtown International Theater Festival, does its best to do justice to Sartre’s brilliant work. Though the play is meant to be set in a drawing room decorated in Second Empire style, Hakim strips it down to a minimalist level, using only folding chairs, a wobbly black door, and a simple black mantelpiece. No Exit shows us how three recently deceased people— Garcin, Inez, and Estelle, who had not known each while alive— become each other’s torturers. This is a difficult piece to stage, yet Hakim has chosen actors who get the job done. While Garcin is played too stagnantly at times, Frank Tangredi does have the booming voice fit for this stiff, practical character. Phyllis March brings an apt bluntness and sarcastic edge to Inez, although her attraction to Estelle, as played by Claudine Coffaro, is not entirely believable. Indeed, Coffaro is the weakest link in the cast. Though Estelle is supposed to be a vain, rich woman, Coffaro plays that vanity to an unbearable extreme, knocking us over the head with it. (One of the most crucial turning points in the play is Estelle’s realization that she has truly been erased from earth. Unfortunately, Coffaro treats this like an Erica Kane monologue, detracting from its power.) To be fair, Coffaro is not a bad actress. Throughout the play, there are moments when we see her potential; for example, the quiet moment when Estelle realizes that she needs a mirror to exist. But Coffaro indulges in melodrama, as does the production in general. March and Tangredi also fall prey to histrionics at times—e.g., in the awkwardly blocked stabbing scene at the end of the play. Yet, despite the melodramatic fervor he has brought to the production, Hakim does a decent job of holding the piece together.