Told from Baird’s perspective, the action, as it were, is centered on Baird’s unexpected diagnosis of advanced cancer after she collapses in pain at her home one evening. Determined to work through her pain, she devotes herself to teaching, including spending increasing time on and off campus with Dunn. As she struggles with the severity of her illness, she dives down a compassionate euthanasia rabbit hole. After exploring several options in detail Baird determines a possible path forward, one that requires assistance. With no close friends or family, she asks Dunn to help. The decision proves surprisingly fruitful, uplifting and filled with possibilities to consider long after the curtain.
When considering that this play is almost hyper-meta — the voice of Rapp is present both in the characters and the overall construct of the narrative — Baird is the audience’s only filter. She is also the voice of “author as god,” a white, bearded, ancient fatherly figure of decaying brilliance with a barely repressed yet sensual vengeance. But is she a reliable narrator? Hunter persuasively mixes Baird’s racing, often conflicting emotions and unflinching commitment to self-determination with an increasingly disorienting loss of control. I hope that Hunter continues to sink into her exploration of Baird’s emotional levels and motivations. There are moments when the performance feels too restrained — though I appreciate that Hunter never plays emotion for effect, I want to feel more emotionally connected.
Lawson-Maeske once again shows his versatility and an ability to remain present in the moment, his energy and emotion purposefully matching Hunter’s. Fully inhabiting his character’s purpose, he is both a revelation and a puzzle — a jumble of finely defined preferences, quick-yet-thoughtful retorts and intense likes and dislikes that offer a sharp reflection of both the professor and the playwright. There are moments of pure adoration punctuated by a fleeting dead-eyed, cold-blooded stare that may make you shudder.
I am not one to provide a lot of spoilers; however, I will say that I have lingering questions about what actually happened as well as who is real or true (and I have a solid theory that Christopher Dunn is not). I expect the nuances and depth of the performances to keep evolving and encourage the performers and crew to make time for emotional self-care. The show is intense, challenging and for mature audiences only.
Death, and not simply death but who determines when a person dies, is pervasive and explored in detail in this philosophically and emotionally charged two-performer play. The topics of murder and the end of life choices a person might make, as well as detailed information on the steps one would take and the likely progression to death, are central themes. All that said, the last 20 minutes or so of The Sound Inside are worth the wait and something fans of contemporary drama with a dark tone won’t want to miss.
Written by Adam Rapp. Directed by Gary Wayne Barker. Presented by Moonstone Theatre Company at the Robert J. Reim Theater (111 South Geyer Road, Kirkwood) through Sunday, February 25. Showtimes vary, and tickets are $15 to $40. More information at moonstonetheatrecompany.com.
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