Little Bear Ridge Road by Samuel D. Hunter. Directed by Joe Mantello. Scenic design by Scott Pask. Costume design by Jessica Pabst. Lighting design by Heather Gilbert. Sound design by Mikhail Fiksel.
Cast: Laurie Metcalf, Micah Stock, John Drea, and Meighan Gerachis.
Theater: Booth Theatre
Tickets: Telecharge.com

Laurie Metcalf and Micah Stock Photo by Julieta Cervantes

Little Bear Ridge Road is a fitting introduction for newcomers to Hunter, as well as a fine addition to fan followers of works like A Bright New Boise, The Whale, and my favorite, The Few, which tapped into the lonely lives of long-distance truck drivers to feed into his overall theme.

If Little Bear Ridge Road is not exactly an ode to joy, the playwright keeps everything from drowning in the pathos of depression with his ability to unlock and mine the humanity in his characters so that we feel not only sympathy, but somehow, empathy for them. That plus a beautiful blend of gifted actors and director, a surprising amount of genuinely laugh-inducing humor, and even a soupçon of hope make for a thoroughly engaging 95 minutes, during which we find ourselves rooting for those we might otherwise want little to do with.

Two of these characters dominate the tale that establishes itself upon a familiar theatrical plot device, that of not-particularly-close family members getting together following a death. In this case, we've got Ethan, a complicated mess of a man in his 30s, a stalled would-be novelist who is the living embodiment of writer's block, and his Aunt Sarah, a nurse whose non-working life involves avoiding social interactions and keeping her small home free of dust and dirt. The two grudgingly reunite when Ethan arrives on the scene to manage the sale of the home of his late abusive, meth-addict father, somewhere, as the Playbill informs us, "on the outskirts of Troy, Idaho," a small town with a population under 1,000.

Neither would be considered by most of us to be a pleasure to be around, but their interactions are endlessly engaging, thanks to spot-on performances by the always-reliable Laurie Metcalf, whose every facial expression and tone of voice speak volumes, and by Micah Stock (a revelation here) who imbues his work with a physicality and outward expressiveness reminiscent of the choreographer Mark Morris at his freewheeling and unselfconscious best. Both actors are at their peak under the detail-oriented direction of Joe Mantello.

As a past master of character studies, the playwright does not offer up much of a plot, just enough to give the actors room to shine. Ethan shows up at Sarah's door with no particular plan in mind and no place to stay. She quasi-grudgingly takes him in, with the expectation that this family obligation thing will last for a brief period of time while Ethan gets rid of his father's house and skedaddles out of town. But one thing leads to another (the COVID pandemic, for one), and the visit stretches out to a couple of years, with Ethan justifying his long-term encampment by convincing himself that Sarah, who has health problems, needs his help. Since help and sympathy are the last things Sarah wants (though she herself does dispense both in her own way), it makes for an interesting situation.

While these two endlessly circle one another and try to connect over mundane matters and shared TV watching, another character enters the scene. As the COVID era phases out, Ethan, a gay man, begins a tentative relationship with the far more self-assured, anchored James (an appealing John Drea), who not only is happy being with Ethan, but also develops something of a friendly relationship with Sarah. If James falls somewhat into the too-good-to-be-true category, his presence breathes some healthy hopefulness into the play, and we find ourselves cheerleading for him to help Ethan find his footing. (The cast is rounded out by Meighan Gerachis, who appears as a nurse at a significant moment in the play).

Little Bear Ridge Road may not be what you've come to expect from a larger-than-life Broadway-styled family drama like, say, the recent productions of Branden Jacobs-Jenkins' Purpose or Appropriate. The set design by Scott Pask consists of a revolving leather (or, likely, faux leather) reclining sofa and a few simple props (e.g. Sarah's vacuum cleaner). But few plays of any length manage to capture the depth of character on display here. Broadway may like its bombast and busy design elements, but it's a pleasure to experience this kind of thoughtful and compelling storytelling without the need for any distracting over-the-top smoke and mirrors.