Huis Clos (No Exit) review, Rosemary Branch Theatre

When the trapdoor in Hell closes on Garcin, Ines and Estelle, they learn what it means to suffer for your sins. There are no racks, no whips, no angry flames. All there is, is each other. Garcin, a philandering journalist, was shot for cowardice. Ines murdered her cousin in order to seduce his wife, and Estelle killed her baby. As the three circle each other trying to find lines of connection, and then disconnection, it becomes clear that neither conciliation nor silence are options. Hell is other people.

Satanic inverses

Hell is other people. It's a classic line that beautifully brings Huis Clos, a tricky piece of writing by a master of philosophy, Jean Paul Sartre, towards its elegant ending. Sartre hits it on the head with his vision of purgatory. What isn't quite clear, is whether this production hits it on the head, although Eloise Black's Estelle is superb and provides the dramatic glue as the piece reaches a crescendo.

The beginning is slow. The intimate space at the Rosemary Branch is perfect for dark atmospherics, but there is no sense of Hell as a hot, oppressive, space - no sweating and undoing of buttons, no restless pacing or pawing or claustrophobia. As Garcin, George Collie lacks the grimy confidence of a man who is all mouth and no trousers. Charly Flyte as Ines, a predatory lesbian, enters with all guns blazing before there's anyone to shoot.

In conclusion: Black steadily ups the ante as she uses her sexuality to seduce and repel, swinging between childlike sadness and petulance to spiteful one-upmanship. As she ratchets up the tension, the piece starts to gel. The director, Andy McQuade, cleverly ensures Huis Clos ends after seventy minutes, before it becomes too hellish for the audience.

References
The Rosemary Branch, Tickets

The Rosemary Branch Theatre, Shepperton Road, London N1 3DT.     Run ends Feb 2.