“A throbbing and pulsing ache of a play. ‘Infinite Life’ is driven by exceptionally controlled emotional performances of humour one minute and pathos the next. Outstanding.”

In Northern California, five women find themselves at a fasting and health resort, each battling their chronic ailments and illnesses. Each of them stays at the resort for a specific allotted time. As they recline on matching chaise lounges, the women engage in deep conversations about their ‘aches and pains’ and life stories. The arrival of an unexpected man with his own health issues disrupts their routine, leading to a shift in the future for everyone involved.

Coal Mine takes many risks in showcasing the terrific talent of some of Toronto’s finest actors. From my experience attending and reviewing productions here, I see that these risks have paid off in tremendous artistic talent.

In celebration of Coal Mine Theatre’s 10th anniversary, Jackie Maxwell directs the season’s opening night performance of Annie Baker’s ‘Infinite Life’ with astute understanding. The script is demanding, and Maxwell acknowledges that reality in her Director’s Programme Note.

Maxwell also states ‘Infinite Life’ is absolutely rewarding.

From a male perspective, it certainly is.

She casts some of the ‘crème de la crème’ of Ontario’s theatre scene. They deliver outstanding work, sometimes with grace but more often with humour and pathos (and a little dirty talk, too).

She knows these women; she gets them. Maxwell clearly understands how important it is to pay close attention to the dialogue and what is implied in the words, especially in playwright Annie Baker's work. In this fine opening-night production, pauses and stillness remain paramount as they add much to what is said and not said.

The last few productions I’ve attended at Coal Mine had the audience sitting on opposite sides in the auditorium. This time, designer Joyce Padua blocks one part off where the space becomes a traditional theatre setting. She creates a serene setting of muted bright colours that amply fits the playing space nicely lit by Steve Lucas’s design. The resort's lanai resembles the Greek taverna straight out of ‘Mamma Mia.’ The six matching chaise lounges look comfortable. Padua has also selected individual costumes and prop pieces that reflect the individualities of each woman.

Outstanding performance work from all six actors propels the plot’s action forward to its heart-rending final moment between Christine Horne and Nancy Palk, which left me momentarily bereft of words. Why? Physical pain appears to be something none of us will ever be able to avoid in our lives. It will come for us. If we have someone like Eileen to help us, even momentarily, then that makes all the difference.

As Sofi, Horne becomes a quiet, trustworthy narrator who breaks the fourth wall to speak to the audience, letting us know how much time has passed, either day by day or hour by hour. Her Sofi finds it challenging to express how her pain feels. Her bits of cell conversation with an unnamed individual on the other end are tell-worthy and often graphic sexually in nature.

Sofi’s connection with Ari Cohen’s spaced-out whacko Nelson is bizarre at first glance. Cohen is terrific in the part. He first appears shirtless wearing silk pants. His wide-glazed eyes and slow speech responses probably indicate his Nelson smokes weed to help with his pain. Slowly, Horne and Cohen develop an existential link to each other that Sofi’s rather odd request of him remains shocking even after the curtain comes down.

Nancy Palk’s Eileen appears to be the matron of the group. There’s a regal, respectful nature about her, and Palk naturally assumes this persona with defined grace. Yet, Palk’s Eileen is also the one whose pain threshold is most visible among all those present. Her gait gradually slows down. Palk painstakingly shows how much effort it takes for her Eileen to cross the stage and sit on the chaise lounge. Her joints ache constantly, and Eileen is eternally grateful when Sofi helps momentarily to alleviate the pain. It’s a touching scene between the two, and the look of gratitude on Palk’s face, which shows that her pain has subsided, remains noteworthy.

Jean Yoon and Kyra Harper respectfully provide a great deal of needed and necessary humour, as Ginnie and Yvette. They’re offbeat and unusual. They sometimes often share a bit too much about themselves. I’ll be honest and say that I am grateful Yoon and Harper allow us those crucial moments to laugh out loud. Brenda Bazinet’s Elaine is sometimes content to sit in the chaise lounge and either draw or colour as she listens and participates in the conversations and vignettes around her. Bazinet’s Elaine becomes that one person we all need– someone to listen. Not offer any advice or comments but merely to listen.

A Final Thought: ‘Infinite Life’ struck a chord within my own life at this time. My late brother suffered tremendous pain from his cancer diagnosis in 2009. My late mother, who passed away in May of this year, had her own ailments that left her sometimes in pain. I’m just back up on my feet after having my left thyroid removed, and yes, there was pain in recovery from that.

A comment from Virginia Woolf in the house programme resonates with me and my connection to ‘Infinite Life’:

“Pain is a part of every human being’s experience. It enhances our perceptions and reduces self-consciousness. It is the great confessional.”

I don’t wish for anyone to be in any pain at all. But when we are, we finally get it. We finally are part of the human experience.

To be part of the human experience is what we all want.

For that reason, go and see ‘Infinite Life.’

Running time: approximately one hour and forty minutes with no interval.

‘Infinite Life’ runs until October 6 at Coal Mine Theatre, 2076 Danforth Avenue, Toronto. For tickets: coalminetheatre.com.

THE COAL MINE THEATRE presents
‘Infinite Life’ by Annie Baker
Director: Jackie Maxwell
Set and Costume Designer: Joyce Padua
Lighting Designer: Steve Lucas
Sound Designer: Olivia Wheeler
Stage Manager: Katie Fitz-Gerald

Performers: Brenda Bazinet, Ari Cohen, Kyra Harper, Christine Horne, Nancy Palk, Jean Yoon.