Stage/Theatre

What: Infinite Life
Where: The Coal Mine Theatre, 2076 Danforth Ave.
When: Now, until Sun., Sept. 29
Highlight: Simple and effective lighting that yanks the audience from scene to scene.
Rating: NNN (out of 5)
Why you should go: Naturalistic performances that demand to be felt.

HOW LONG could you stare at a parking lot? Nothing to do but to think of your pain, your hunger, your life, your yearning.

Well, for the six characters of Infinite Life, the answer is all day and, in some cases, all night long. Armed with beach chairs, towels, juice cleanses and even the occasional book — the show unfolds in a series of conversations over Sofi’s stay at a water-fasting clinic in California. Set up in Coal Mine’s intimate black box, there sit six beach chairs and a tree poking out of the back of the set as the audience enters, a blank canvas for the show about to unfold.

We find Sofi, played by Christine Horne, who is visiting the water clinic for the first time. Her whole experience culminates into something mundane, beautiful and dull. Sofi’s only 47 whilst everyone else at this clinic has grandchildren and weekly book clubs. She shouldn’t be here. But she, much like everyone else at this retreat, is in chronic and unbearable pain and willing to try anything to get rid of it.

Directed by Jackie Maxwell, this show is as slow as it is rewarding. Her style is hyper-naturalistic, every moment feeling like a genuine moment of interaction between people. You watch characters go from strangers to talking about their most vulnerable pains and aches. At one hour and 45 minutes with no intermission, it’s not exactly an exhilarating watch, but that’s kind of the point. The guests of the water-fasting clinic are forced to sit there in all-inducing hunger and pain, so the least we can do as audience members is sit there and witness.

Lighting by Steve Lucas, though simple, helps transport the audience from scene to scene in a show where the setting doesn’t change. Night scenes shift to day scenes in a snap of lights so bright that you’ll squint from your seat, and lights cradle you into the night through a blending of blues and purples. Accompanying the visual aesthetics on stage is the sly sound design by Olivia Wheeler. As the characters sit and wait for their pain to disappear, the stirring of crickets in the nighttime or the buzz of bright lights accompanies the cast and their stellar performances: subtly and effectively creating atmosphere.

This all-star cast pulls off each of these characters with vulnerability and ease. Nancy Palk, Kyra Harper and Jean Yoon are hilarious as a group of older women who gossip and commune with Sofi during her stay. Their performances tug at something deep and human in the audience as they each reveal different relationships to their internal and external pain. Ari Cohen appears as Nelson, a man around Sofi’s age who suddenly appears at the clinic, bringing up complicated feelings for her about the intermingling of pain and pleasure. How is it possible to connect with others when all you can think about is your own pain? Can sex be possible with physical discomfort? Is it possible for the two to coexist? This production answers a resounding “yes” to the last question.

As I watched from my seat, I couldn’t stop thinking about a John Green quote: “That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.” We’re left to witness all these people who, in every second they spend on stage, are in pain in one form or another. I left Coal Mine with a weirdly poignant optimism about life.

If they can find moments of connection with others through intense pain, it makes it feel like perhaps we can too.