For more than a decade, Samuel D. Hunter has taken us on an intrastate tour of Idaho, during which he has allowed us to peer into the windows of the homes, workplaces, and souls of its residents, most of whom are living lives of “quiet desperation” while facing issues of everything from religious doubt to familial estrangement to morbid obesity.
However, quiet would hardly be the apt description of Sarah and Ethan – magnificently portrayed by Laurie Metcalf and Micah Stock – the protagonists of Hunter’s latest work, “Little Bear Ridge Road,” now at the Booth Theatre. They scream, they cry, they fight – often loudly – but their lives are also as desperate and their unanswered questions just as profound as the characters in such Hunter works as “Grangeville,” and “A Case for the Coexistence of God.”
As to why those plays didn’t make it to Broadway, while this one serves as Hunter’s Main Stem debut (after a run earlier this year at Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theatre), that question does have some answers. Obviously, there’s Metcalf’s well-earned celebrity. More importantly, “Little Bear Bridge Road,” for all its bleakness, possesses way more humor than Hunter’s other works. It may not be a feel-good show, but, unlike “The Whale,” it won’t spoil your appetite for a post-show meal. (And, for good measure, the piece runs around 95 minutes!)
It’s also been perfectly pitched for the Booth (arguably, Broadway’s most intimate theater) by the veteran director Joe Mantello, who gets exemplary performances not just from Metcalf and Stock, but also from John Drea as James, Ethan’s nerdy, good-natured (and unlikely) boyfriend, and Meighan Gerachis, who makes the most of her few moments in the show’s final scene.
Unsurprisingly, Metcalf, who has made irascibility her own art form, proves to be the perfect fit for Sarah, a no-nonsense, long-single nurse who seemingly despises any adjustment to her routine (Just listen as she harangues a co-worker who is informing her that her shifts have been reduced again!)
Still, she finds enough compassion to let her long-estranged nephew Ethan (Stock) stay with her when he shows up at her mountaintop home (designed purely as a large living room with a gigantic leather sofa by Scott Pask). He’s arrived back in Idaho to sell the home of his recently deceased father (and Sarah’s brother) Leon, a meth addict who had little contact with either family member. After spending years in Seattle, Ethan has nowhere but his car to sleep in and no home of his own to return to.
Since the play is set during the early months of the Covid pandemic – Ethan enters wearing a mask – the idea of hunkering down with family makes more sense to us (and Sarah) than it might in another era. Nonetheless, Sarah is expecting a shortish sojourn, but Ethan ends up staying for two years for reasons Hunter lets unfold with crystalline clarity. Equally comprehensible – and devastating – is that the pair’s cohabitation will come to a sudden end that nonetheless fulfills both characters’ basic needs.
As great as Metcalf is, Stock proves to be the show’s ace in the proverbial hole. He gives a fearless portrayal of the complex Ethan, an often-brittle gay man still trapped in his past — a series of betrayals, bad luck, and mistakes partially of his own doing – with no clear sense of how to navigate his future. In reconnecting with Sarah, he finds a possibility of how to do good in the present, but his acts of kindness don’t prove completely satisfying for either character.
It’s also to Hunter’s credit that Ethan isn’t your stereotypical gay man; sure, he’s quick with a quip and somewhat effeminate, but he’s also anything but stylish and spends one longish scene with his less-than shapely, hairy belly exposed. (The show’s simple yet precise costumes are by Jessica Pabst.) He’s troubled, but he’s also relatable.
If you’re seeking purely escapist fare, you might just want to head next door to “Buena Vista Social Club.” But more adventurous theatergoers, or anyone who loves great acting, should definitely turn onto “Little Bear Ridge Road.”
