Of the twenty-four plays written by the great Irish dramatist Brian Friel (1929-2015), (probably best known in America for his multi-award winning Dancing at Lughnasa [1990]), two of them—Faith Healer (1979) and Molly Sweeney (1994)—consist of monologues expressed by three characters.  Why would such a gifted playwright choose to discard dialogue in favor of characters who don’t address each other at all but instead speak only to the audience?  How challenging must it be for actors to maintain the attention of the audience alone on a practically bare stage for long periods of time?  Julianne Boyd, recently retired founding Artistic Director of Barrington Stage Company, has returned to direct Faith Healer, one of her favorites, and the first time a Brian Friel play has been presented there.  Rising to the challenge, Boyd has cast three recipients of Barrington’s Associate Artist award, given to those “who have made extraordinary contributions to the theatre”:  Christopher Innvar, Mark H. Dold, and Gretchen Egolf, with all of whom Boyd has collaborated in the past.  Considering this playwright, cast, and director, expectations ran high, which can occasionally result in disappointment, but the opening night performance lived up to all the hype and then some:  it was exquisite.

A faith healer is someone who cures sick people through the power of prayer and belief.  Frank Hardy, the titular Faith Healer (notice the matching initials) played by Christopher Innvar, doesn’t invoke the kind of prayer we would imagine, but instead recites as an incantation the names of Welsh or Scottish villages where he “performed.”  He refers to his profession as “a craft without an apprenticeship, a ministry without responsibility, a vocation without a ministry.”  He is unsure whether he has a unique gift or whether he’s a con man.  Plagued by doubts, especially considering that “nine times out of ten, nothing at all happened,” always aware in advance when he would be unsuccessful yet forging ahead nevertheless, he drowns his nagging questions in whiskey.  Drink and storytelling—the two stereotypical Irish attributes, are shared by all of the characters.  If Frank were not talking to the audience but instead to the other characters–his wife Grace (Gretchen Egolf) and his manager Teddy (Mark H. Dold)—would he have admitted all of his insecurities?  The monologue form allows him the opportunity to express his feelings, to tell his story from his own point of view, and to focus on specific memories as he remembers them, which, it turns out, is often inconsistent with what his wife and manager remember. But since he is alone onstage, no one is there to contradict him until the next character’s story.  If this sounds like Rashomon, it certainly feels that way.  Frank actually has two monologues—he opens and closes the play.

Scenic Designer Luciana Stecconi provides Innvar with only seven mismatched chairs, each lit by Lighting Designer David Lander, and a banner on the upstage wall announcing:  “The Fantastic Frank Hardy, Faith Healer, One Night Only.” The first time we see Innvar, entering in a haze accompanied by otherworldly music and amplified sound (Fabian Obispo’s over-the-top but effective introduction), his objective is to charm us as Frank has charmed and taken possession of his wife, his manager, and whoever shows up in each village.  We must somehow be convinced that we are in the presence of one who might actually have a godlike power.  Through self-deprecation, impersonation, humor and the tools of an accomplished actor, Innvar persuades and ensnares us by his performance, much like Frank in his.

The second monologue belongs to Grace (Egolf) who is legally Frank’s wife but who he continually torments in untold ways, including alluding to her as his mistress, inventing all sorts of fictions about her as well as others with whom he comes in contact, and ignoring her in what feels like a total “erasion” of her existence.  Each monologue is followed by music and darkness, during which a simple, quick set change takes place:  in this case the addition of a small table containing drinks and smokes.  Boyd’s direction is spot-on here:  no time is wasted in getting to the next scene.  Grace’s story is a bitter, desperately unhappy one, as she describes her insane mother, her cruel, judgmental father (who was actually a judge) and the misery of living with Frank.  She is his nurse, his caretaker who sustains him through every failure and occasional successes, yet she refers to him as twisted, cruel, hurtful, convoluted, and aggressive.  Why did she not leave him?  There is something about him, “a special. . . magnificence” that she cannot live without. 

Unfortunately it is more difficult to appreciate this monologue than the others:  Egolf has a tough time because her words are devoid of humor, filled with pain and self-pity, and delivered in the flat tone of voice used by someone who is hopelessly attempting to hold herself together.

As each monologue furthers the story of the journey of this strangely interconnected trio (the couple and Frank’s manager, Teddy), different elements are emphasized, while some details are absolutely repudiated by the next speaker, such as the theme music that Teddy plays at each venue, or why they ended up in Ballybeg, Ireland, the fictitious town where fourteen of Friel’s plays are set.  We have no way of knowing what the truth is or whether it exists at all.  But the third monologue by Teddy (Dold) is the piece de resistance.  In a no-holds-barred performance, Dold plays the manager who loves both Grace and Frank, especially the latter.  He has, in Friel’s words, “a showman’s verve,” sporting a mustache, a Cockney accent and bow tie, touting the talented clients he left in order to represent Frank, such as Miss Mulatto, who was able to speak with her pigeons in their language.  Dold also has a small table and a locker filled with bottle after bottle of beer, which he consumes throughout.  He offers advice freely:  “friends is friends and work is work and never the twain shall meet” yet he doesn’t take his own advice, sticking with Grace and Frank through the best and worst of times, filling in more of the miraculous and terrible stories begun by the others.  Why did he stay? What is the power that Frank has over them?

Frank’s final monologue, (delivered by Innvar on opening night despite the distraction of thunderous fireworks in nearby Waconah Park, which weirdly accentuated his story) is a flashback, returning to the event we’ve heard in bits and pieces, now concluding with Christ-like closure, accompanied by Lander’s impressive lighting.

Barrington’s production of Faith Healer, with its astounding performances, brilliant writing, direction that keeps the focus on the actors and their stories, and a strong technical team, is a gem.
FAITH HEALER runs from August 1-27 at Barrington Stage Company’s St. Germain Stage, 36 Linden Street, Pittsfield, MA.  For tickets call 413-236-8888 or online at barringtonstageco.org. Barrington Stage Company and Debra Jo Rupp Present FAITH HEALER by Brian Friel.  Director:  Julianne Boyd.  Cast:  Christopher Innvar (Frank), Gretchen Egolf (Grace), and Mark H. Dold (Teddy).  Scenic Designer:  Luciana Stecconi; Costume Designer:  Jen Caprio; Lighting Designer:  David Lander; Sound Designer:  Fabian Obispo.  Production Stage Manager:  Renee Lutz.   Running Time:  2 hours 30 minutes, including intermission.