None so blind as those who will not see.

Photo: Dream Weavers- Michael Jacobs (left) and John Rousseau (below right) project their own hopes onto Molly Sweeney.

Some plays tell great stories; they''re driven by strong narratives, they have dramatic tension, a climax and resolution. Some plays are meant to entertain; they''re bits of happy fluff, good-looking dates that put a smile on your face. And some plays are lessons, inspired by teachings that can often be reduced to a sentence or two; a narrative is wrapped around that central point to carry it forward, but it, and the play''s characters, serve more as moral vehicles than independent, fully fleshed-out entities.

Such a play is Molly Sweeney, continuing at Pacific Repertory Theatre''s Circle Theater. It''s a smart play. It has a message: There are many different ways of seeing, and who is to say which is more true? The three actors-longtime PacRep veterans-understand their roles and convey the play''s message admirably, sometimes beautifully. It''s the kind of play I admire PacRep for producing. It''s not a play I''d choose to introduce someone to theater, and I wouldn''t recommend it for children-particularly squirmy ones. But not all plays are for all people.

Molly Sweeney, penned by Irish playwright Brian Friel, is the story of a middle-aged woman, blind since infancy. At 40 she marries Frank, a man obsessed with the need to cure her physical affliction. Her "cure" becomes the latest in his continual pursuit of lost causes. Frank enlists the services of Mr. (British for "Dr.") Rice, a once-brilliant eye surgeon who sees in Molly''s case the possibility of reviving his failed medical reputation, and his zest for life. As the tale unfolds, it becomes clear that the two men are trying desperately to fulfill their own dreams through Molly, while she herself, content to remain in her sightless world, becomes embroiled in their hopeless quest.

Friel chose to write his play purely as a series of monologues. Molly, Frank and Rice stand in separate corners of a nearly blank set, each speaking to the audience in his or her turn. The language is elegant, and in the absence of any interaction between the characters, it must carry the play. Often it does, but it''s a heavy task to place on any production. When the language flows, it soars. Some of Molly''s monologues, in particular, are achingly lovely. At times, inevitably, there is a lull, and one feels one''s attention flagging. But is that the fault of the play, the actors, or the one who is watching?

As Molly, Julie Hughett is uniformly excellent. She is tender without simpering, strong-willed without becoming strident. She is a pleasure to watch. As Frank, Michael Jacobs seems to see his role as that of livening up the production, jollying the crowd along with his pep talks and boundless energy. Often, that is needed. Always, it is entertaining. Sometimes, I wished to see him slow down and reveal the man who must, despite his machinations, love this woman very much. John Rousseau, as the doctor, has the difficult task of conveying the human frailties of a character who hides his weaknesses with ferocity. Rousseau does a fine job of depicting the man''s clinical attitude, and the numbness within which he now lives, even as he yearns for the intensity he once knew. But it''s hard to watch that numbness for long. It may have been the choice of the actor, or the director, but in the absence of any action on the stage, connections between the characters can only be forged through their words and the passion behind them.

All said and done, this is a fine, intelligent production, and it is a joy to see these three actors reprise the roles they first inhabited five years ago. PacRep dramaturg Dan Gotch directs, as before, with a delicate, careful hand. The simple set and evocative lighting by John Rousseau focus attention where it belongs: on the words. This is a play that invites introspection.

Molly Sweeney continues through July 14 at the Circle Theater in Carmel. 622-0100.