Philadelphia Theatre Company presents Bess Wohl's 'Small Mouth Sounds'

It's no gimmick but a unique encounter, based on a New Age retreat the playwright took. Six searchers for inner peace attend a weeklong program at “The Institute,” taught by an unseen Teacher (Orville Mendoza, on microphone). One of his many rules is that they not speak for the duration. They're also forbidden to use cellphones or sneak food into their rooms, two commandments some find very difficult.

Self-discovery

The blond wood panels of Laura Jellinek's purposefully bland set feel corporate, though projections upstage (designed by Andrew Schneider) provide glimpses of rain in trees and a lake, made real by Stowe Nelson's sound design.

Teacher asks everyone to participate "in the spirit of respect, community, and adventure," though his goofy sense of humor belies that formality. "I dreamt a lawnmower was mowing a lawn," he confesses in one of several rambling speeches.

Regarding the program, he promises, "After this you don't have to go back to who you were."

Edward Chin-Lyn plays Rodney, whose yoga confidence intimidates the rest. Brad Heberlee's Ned seems new and needy — and what's he hiding under his wool cap? Joan (Socorro Santiago) and Judy (Cherene Snow) arrive together, and we know immediately that they're a couple because they're bickering. Jan (Connor Barrett) is a gentle, awkward man who's sadly savaged by mosquitoes. Alicia (Brenna Palughi) arrives late, disorganized and weeping.

Even in their shared dorm rooms, sleeping on mats, they obey the no-speaking rule, communicating through frenetic gestures and reacting with sidelong looks. Relationships eventually form in the play's 100 minutes — and words, of course, inevitably emerge.

Not quite satire

Ned, replying to a question in an activity where talking is allowed, shares a wrenching monologue about his disastrous life. Alicia's comical efforts to leave a message for her ex, recording and deleting one after another while hiding in the woods, reveal her plight.

Wohl's gentle parody of New Age enlightenment feels 25 years late and almost affectionate, though it's soon clear that Teacher offers mostly deep breathing and empty platitudes while answering his phone and extolling the virtues of cold medicine. What little the characters glean from the experience comes from each other, often in sweet, small moments director Rachel Chavkin makes clear and poignant.

The playwright gathers these nuggets of intimacy in Teacher's touching final speech, which stumbles onto truths about life that we can all appreciate despite his desperate plea: "Change. Somebody. Please. Change." We're also treated to revelations when the students are finally allowed to converse. Still, Small Mouth Sounds feels timid and uncertain.

In some ways, that vexing uncertainty matches concerns about Philadelphia Theatre Company itself. A season of mainly imported programming — ironically from one of the few companies with the city's name in its own — will be followed by a just-announced three-play 2018-19 season that feels generic and safe, just like Small Mouth Sounds.