By Carol Rocamora . . .
“Who are the normal, happy people?” asks Sofi, a character in Annie Baker’s tantalizing new play Infinite Life that just opened at the Atlantic Theatre Company’s Linda Gross Theatre (in co-production with National Theatre).
It’s one of several provocative questions raised in the course of this absorbing, almost-two-hour evening, featuring five women lying on lounge chairs in the Northern California sun. But, as Anton Chekhov once said, “A writer’s job is not to answer questions, but rather to pose them.” So rather than provide answers, playwright Baker keeps you guessing while drawing you deeper and deeper into what this play might really be about (or not . . . ).
Infinite Life begins very much the way Caryl Churchill’s Escaped Alone does: a group of women sitting around outdoors, talking. Where are they? On a retreat? In a spa? A clinic? Little by little, it’s revealed that they all are suffering from physical pain of a variety of sorts and have come to this place for “treatment.” Wherever they are, the program requires them to fast for days and days, to lessen their pain.
Their conversation deals with the quotidian—describing the graphic details of their illness (“I accept being in pain most of the time”), struggling through the regimen (“Day two is the worst”), sharing non sequitur passages from books they are reading, and remembering the taste of their favorite foods (“blueberries,” for one). Every so often there is a reference to the world outside (“Another school shooting today.”). Otherwise, they can’t see beyond the parking lot across from their patio, while tempting aromas from a nearby bakery waft over them. They’re prisoners of their pain, trapped in time that moves forward and yet stands still, like characters in a Beckett play.
Time—without purpose or meaning—is marked by Sofi (Christina Kirk), the youngest of the five women, who announces its passage as if she were reading stage directions: e.g. “eight hours later, 22 hours later . . . the day after that . . . three days later . . . and we all went to bed,” etc. These announcements are marked by sudden light cues (by Isabella Byrd; the spare set is by “dots”). Then, suddenly, a surprise character enters, upsetting the monotony and turning the entire play upside down (no spoiler alert—it’s too good a plot twist. Experience it for yourself!).
The relationship that develops between the new character and Sofi catapults the play into new depths. As they share graphic details of their ailments, a bond develops that transcends their respective illnesses. Gradually, the meaning of “pain” becomes a new question raised in this complex play. Namely, is it physical pain, or rather emotional, soul-numbing pain? As one of the characters explains, simply, “It’s a metaphor.” Could it be that the true ailments of these suffering characters are loneliness and unbearable longing? Could the cure be connection? Compassion? Intimacy?
At one point Sofi calls her estranged husband on her cell phone, crying,
“Please call me back—and let me know I’m still alive.” In the play’s deeply moving final scene, Sofi and Eileen (Marylouise Burke), another resident of this mysterious place, find that answer together.
Like Beckett and the Theatre of the Absurd, Baker punctuates her story with unexpected humor—such as the moment when Ginny (Kristine Nielsen) recounts an anecdote from a book she’s reading about a rapist pirate. In fact, at the preview I attended, much of the Beckettian-style dialogue was greeted with laughter. Under James Macdonald’s subtle, precise direction, the ensemble is seamless. In addition to the above-mentioned, Mia Katigbak (as Yvette) and Brenda Pressley (as Elaine) complete the cast—save for the sixth character, whose identity
I dare not reveal lest it spoils your delight of discovery.
Annie Baker (author of Pulitzer Prize-winning The Flick) has been called “a high priestess of silence and stillness” by director James Macdonald, whose expert direction of Caryl Churchill’s cryptic plays makes him a fine collaborator. Infinite Life resonates not only for its silences, but also (and even more so) for its profound insights into our basic human needs. It is the kind of play that people will be talking about for a long, long time.
Infinite Life. Through October 8 at the Atlantic Theater Company’s Linda Gross Theater (336 West 20th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues). www.atlantictheatre.org
Photos: Ahron R. Foster
