NO EXIT or Closed Session

John Paul Sartre’s masterwork Huis Clos, roughly translated to No Exit, presents the quintessential existential situation. Three people, escorted into hell, are left alone in a locked room to rage, wallow, and weep in the wake of their tremulous lives and deaths. The Elite Theatre Company’s current interpretation of this iconic work is a credit to imaginative staging and a tribute to the delights of the darkly satirical ideology that gave birth to the theatre of the absurd.

Clearly Sartre’s objective was to entertain audiences while also leaving them somehow uncomfortable with what they were entertained by. No Exit is perhaps the prime example of this intention fully realized. The author skillfully crafts a story that begins at the end of three lives. Garcin (Brian Kolb), Inez (Jessica Gillette), and Estelle (Christina Colombo) are guided by an oddly proper Valet (Robert Byrne) into a small room with three individual and different couches. Also in the room are a bell that seldom works, a letter opener, and an ambiguous sculpture made of gold that cannot be put out of sight. Once in the room, they are left without escape to battle themselves and each other for redemption that can never come. The symphony of anarchy reaches a crescendo as Gillette’s Inez cackles with pleasure over the absurdity of it all and stands upon a seat to beckon the spineless Garcin to her will. The utter hopelessness leaves Kolb’s Garcin near collapse as he exclaims the existentialist mantra whose spirit has echoed in every related work since - “Hell is other people.” The final notes leave the audience laughing and shaking their heads, at the work’s insanity and honesty as well as its relevance to their own lives and outlook on the world.

The intimate Elite Theatre is, without a doubt, a fine location for this up close and personal work. The versatile in-the-round seating arrangement that has been applied is highly effective and engaging, giving the audience the feeling that they are guests within the room throughout. The lighting is strong for the most part, with some deep shadows that swallow up the edges of the unusual playing area. The sound aptly sets the stage for this extraordinary theatrical work and the color palette is a perfect fit for the overall tone of the show. The set is inventive and efficient, as are the costumes that give a strong sense of both character and time.

Director William H. Waxman shrewdly utilizes the economy of space and puts to work a concept that is both gripping and artistic. He further thrives in coaxing courageous and unafraid performances from his gifted cast, most notably from Kolb and Gillette, who dominate the existential landscape before them with boldness and certainty.

The cast as a whole performs with an assurance and vitality that reveals a great depth of feeling and commitment to character. Kolb’s Garcin is like a leprechaun at times, bouncing from seat to seat before igniting with anguish when the fires of hell finally consume his willingness to fight. Gillette’s volatile Inez relishes her torment, fully supporting her claim to be the cruelest among them. The four person cast works well together as they nimbly move the action from moment to moment with energy and morbid humor.

The blocking is crisp, though often the staging fails to entirely capitalize on the advantages of working in the circular space, occasionally playing as if it were a proscenium. Still, for the most part, the strong performances ring true and fully draw you in. Some oddities in casting at times seem jarring, as do minor gaffes with props and set that are magnified due to the unforgiving proximity of the audience. However, even these miscues seemed to somehow befit the philosophical nuances of the work in a way as the performers fully accepted them as part of their reality. Waxman’s concept culminates well with quick and open-ended glimpses into the intransience of an existence in hell and the enduring agony of a life lived in cowardice, cruelty, and self-absorption.

The strength of this production lies in its passion, daring, and execution, as was demanded by the forefathers of the existential movement. The Elite Theatre Company’s version of No Exit or Closed Session is a pleasing escape from the norm and an open door to the humor and allegory of Sartre’s genius and the existentialist ideal.

No Exit runs until July 1st at the Elite Theatre Company in Oxnard. http://www.elitetheatre.org/