NHTP kicks off its new season with the four interwoven, conflicting monologues of ‘Faith Healer.’

At the time it was written by Irish dramatist Brian Friel, “Faith Healer” defied the conventions of traditional theater, presenting a play composed entirely of four separate monologues. Perhaps because of its unorthodox format, its original production in New York closed after just 20 performances in the late 1970s.

Numerous revivals later, Friel’s work has become a celebrated classic. A 2006 adaptation starring Ralph Fiennes ran on Broadway for 200 performances and received four Tony Award nominations, winning one.

The monologue form is no longer so unheard of (as demonstrated by Harbor Light Stage’s 2008 production of Jeffrey Hatcher’s “Three Viewings”), and New Hampshire Theatre Project’s current production of “Faith Healer” proves perfectly suited to the intimate confines of Portsmouth’s West End Studio Theater.

Directed by Seacoast favorite Blair Hundertmark, the play opens NHTP’s 2011-2012 season, running through Nov. 27.

First onstage is Frank (Peter Motson), known in his prime as the “Fantastic Francis Hardy,” an Irish faith healer of astonishing but erratic talent. Frank reminisces about the years he spent traveling around Scotland, Wales and Ireland with his “mistress” Grace and stage manager Teddy, offering performances in which he attempted to cure people of various physical ailments. Nine times out of 10, he explains, his efforts were in vain. But, every now and then, he performed miracles.

Next up is Grace (NHTP artistic director Genevieve Aichele), who, despite Frank’s claim to the contrary, insists she and Frank were married. She’s now been separated from Frank for years and has been leading a lonely existence in London. Between sips of whiskey and drags on a cigarette, Grace recounts her own gloomy version of the story, featuring several glaring discrepancies with Frank’s recollection.

Then comes Teddy (Hundertmark), the enthusiastic British talent promoter who devoted years of his life to the traveling performance. His description of the faith healer’s saga confirms some previous claims, refutes others, and introduces several new twists that contradict the testimony of Frank and Grace.

All three accounts lead up to the climactic and tragic events that unfolded at an Irish pub, “a lounge bar, really,” where Frank attempted to heal a crippled man in a wheelchair. What exactly occurred is unclear, but it was apparently enough to shatter the trio’s flimsy operation and send them off on their separate paths.

By the time Frank returns for the concluding monologue, we have developed an entirely different picture of the man, and we’re not sure whose version of events to believe. Of course, to trust any one character over the others is to assume there is only one definitive truth, a notion Friel’s script seems to challenge. More likely, Frank, Grace and Teddy have selectively culled through their memories to construct their own personal truths, equally valid, equally unreliable.

Though the play is devoid of dramatic action, this extraordinary local cast brings a gripping intensity to the stage. Motson, with an impeccable Irish lilt, embodies Frank’s darkness and disillusion, presenting a complicated man who struggles to understand his own gifts. Does he actually possess a spiritual power to heal? Does he awaken people’s capacity to heal themselves?  Or does he simply have a talent for psychological persuasion? He doesn’t know, and he suspects his performances confirm people’s hopelessness far more often than they give people hope.

Aichele, too, successfully inhabits her character’s psyche, portraying Grace as a tortured woman grappling with her own sense of resiliency. Aichele applies subtle facial expressions and vocal inflections to illustrate the undercurrents of emotion that rattle Grace’s tenuous facade of poise, and her final breakdown is among the play’s most powerful and stirring moments.

Hundertmark, sporting a gloriously bushy mustache and red robe, plays Teddy with gleeful aplomb, bringing some comic relief to the tale while offering a vital new perspective. He calls to mind Ricky Gervais’ David Brent from the British incarnation of “The Office” (though, at times, Hundertmark’s total eradication of the letter “h” from the beginning of words seems slightly over-enunciated). Teddy feigns detachment from his old traveling partners, but belies his own emotional stakes in the story.

Aside from a few chairs, side tables and bottles, the set for each monologue is sparse, keeping the focus squarely on the actors. Much credit goes to lighting and set designer Meghann Beauchamp, who dims and brightens the spotlights ever so gradually. Each character, at the conclusion of his or her monologue, slowly evaporates into absolute darkness, leaving a blank, opaque slate for interpretation.

“Faith Healer” runs through Nov. 27 at West End Studio Theatre, 959 Islington St., Portsmouth, 603-431-6644. Show times are Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 2 p.m. Tickets are $24 for the general public, $18 for students and seniors.