Listening to the silence to hear our truest voices: Honest Pint Theatre's SMALL MOUTH SOUNDS

The cast: Honest Pint Theatre's Small Mouth Sounds

SMALL MOUTH SOUNDS
4.5 Stars (out of 5)
Honest Pint Theatre
Pure Life Theatre, Raleigh
Through April 2

Paraphrasing Robert Fripp, in the theater, dialogue provides the cup that holds the wine of silence. Audiences, actors and directors know a pregnant pause can land a spoken line with greater impact. When a verbal coup de grâce is delivered, its truest benediction is in the stillness afterward; it speaks for itself when nothing more truly need be said. As mid-century abstract expressionist Mark Rothko once observed, “Silence is so accurate.”

Even so, it still seems counterintuitive at first for Bess Wohl to champion that quality on stage to the degree she does in her 2015 drama, Small Mouth Sounds. After all, playwrights gain fame on the basis of what they do with words. But after Wohl took part in a silent weekend retreat with Buddhist nun Pema Chodron, she wrote a play that occurs at a similar event. Though her script covers 29 slender pages, it still takes nearly two hours to perform. That’s because most of the action described therein takes place with little or no dialogue.

The resulting, formidable challenge for a seasoned sextet of actors in this Honest Pint Theatre production at Raleigh’s Pure Life Theatre involves silently conveying a staggeringly broad bandwidth of vivid human experiences and emotions – through physical acting alone.

Under the discerning direction of regional independent theater veteran Jeri Lynn Schulke, the stressors that have clearly come between a couple are evident as they move into their cabin and all but wordlessly get ready for bed, in quarters artfully defined by lighting designer Anthony Buckner.

In another scene, a loving father conveys his greatest grief with only one selection from the title's inventory: a devastatingly soft and gentle “shhh.” 

Under notable fight and intimacy director Tara Nicole Williams, an aching passion and the unexpected, sudden fury that later erupts between two other characters are both evoked in silence. And in separate, uncanny moments, two women break with their long-term partners, in both cases without saying a single word.

Work like that requires exceptional acting. Fortunately, there’s no shortage in this commendable production.

Barbette Hunter, as Judy

Though company co-artistic director David Henderson’s Jan is never less than cheerful among his fellow students at the retreat, we bear witness to a grim and hidden joylessness when he’s alone. Newcomer Megan Montgomery convinces as the post-punk hot mess Alicia. In designer Erin West’s pitch-perfect costume design, her shredded Ramones t-shirt and serious Doc Martins are offset by an oversized designer pink gold bag perpetually spilling over with snacks, a broad array of writing instruments, clothing and other tokens from the chaos in her life.

As Rodney, a famous, self-styled YouTube yoga phenomenon who’s smugly slumming here through a confirmation of his obvious enlightenment, Chris Hinton brings satirical bite to a character who likely feels that, at this stage of his spiritual development, apotheosis would merely be redundant. It’s a treat to see Barbette Hunter get a theatrical workout here as the mischievous Judy, and co-artistic director Susannah Hough weigh in as her partner, Joan.

Veteran actor Dorothy Recasner Brown’s voice is heard throughout the work as the unseen teacher of the seminar: a Brit of the very old school with a decidedly arid sense of humor.

In her author’s note, Wohl observes that “(e)veryone in this play is in some kind of agony. In this way, they are not unlike the rest of us.” People on a retreat are frequently in retreat themselves, as they attempt to work through, or escape from, the challenges in their lives. Still, the teacher solemnly warns any group who’ve come in search of a spiritual pain-killer: “If this is what you want, I can do nothing to help you. If you want to avoid pain. It is impossible.”

Ira David Wood IV & Chris Hinton

Thankfully, Small Mouth Sounds takes on the unavoidable fact of human suffering with a generous, leavening dose of levity. Ira David Wood IV integrates impressive physical comedy into his role as the hapless Ned, finding unexpected mirth with chairs, a travel pack of tissues and near-nudity at a skinny-dipping beach. That quality also brings true poignancy to his character’s awkwardness with humans in general (and his attraction to one fellow student in particular) as he struggles to overcome a Job-like list of woes.

On the road to enlightenment, these winsome characters face a myriad of unanticipated obstacles – as we all do. The materiality of the body is challenged by mosquitoes, minimal, uncomfortable bedding, uncomfortable proximity to sketchy cabin mates, and inadequate food. Psyches that have been malnourished for far longer hunger as well, for connection, intimacy, meaning and community.

And yet, despite all of these and more, they – and we – persevere. 

Good idea.

For when we listen to the silence, sometimes it is possible to hear our truest voices, and heal and grow as a result. And as we do, that unspoken dialogue is sometimes punctuated by transcendent and exquisite laughter.