Relatively little seems to happen in the world premiere of Samuel D. Hunter’s “Little Bear Ridge Road” in the Steppenwolf Downstairs Theatre, but the 95-minute play is packed with a lifetime’s worth of riveting existential angst.
That’s mainly, but not entirely, because of a stunning performance by Steppenwolf ensemble member Laurie Metcalf, who is returning to her home theater after too long an absence and is the production’s main draw. But, in truth, she’s matched by Micah Stock whose potent portrayal of a man incapacitated by his insecurities sinks in slowly and relentlessly.
Metcalf and Stock play Sarah and Ethan, aunt and nephew, the last two members of the Fernsby family. Sarah is a reclusive sixty something nurse who has moved from rural Idaho to most remote rural Idaho. Ethan, a gay writer in his 30s who had been living in Seattle, has come to sell the house of his recently deceased father, a meth addict from whom he was estranged.
Sarah and Ethan have been estranged, too, and their initial encounter when he arrives in 2020 encapsulates the awkwardness between them exacerbated by pandemic-related measures like the fact that he’s wearing a mask. He blames her for not rescuing him from his father’s household when he begged her to as a child. She said she couldn’t but isn’t terribly apologetic. Set in her ways, with a sandpaper personality, she prefers to stay as far away from people as possible.
Sarah’s home, described in the script as “a couch in a void,” makes the distance between them palpable. Scott Pask’s scenic design consists of a taupe power recliner couch on a large circle of cream-colored carpet. The couch rotates upstage as needed for scenes that include a bar, while Heather Gilbert’s lighting captures everything from the notion that Idaho is a void to a sense of a starry sky as something bigger with more possibilities.
Ethan’ original intention is to stay a couple of weeks but, by the end, he’s been at Sarah’s for two years. In between escaping into television shows (the remote control is ever-present), they talk and quarrel about the past and present, occasionally erupting into rage (especially Ethan) that exposes all the pain and regret beneath the surface. Their misconceptions about each other also come to the surface, sometimes in very funny ways. Both are stuck emotionally, and each uses the other as an excuse for not making changes. Ethan, in particular, finds out that Sarah has medical issues and wants to help, but she won’t tell him what they are or what he can do.
Ethan’s only relief from a deep malaise is his attempt at a romantic relationship with James (John Drea), a grad student he meets first online and then in a bar. James, who is studying astrophysics, leading to a joke about astronauts and metaphors about the stars, is confident, open-hearted and more well-adjusted than Ethan, leading the latter to become suspicious and sabotage the affair by accusing him of being privileged.
Under Joe Mantello’s taut direction, “Little Bear Ridge Road” keeps our attention through twists and turns that sometimes hold out hope for the future. Most promising is the tentative friendship forged by Sarah and James because they both care about Ethan.
But don’t expect a happy ending. Ethan may take a step but has a long way to go, and there’s no future for Sarah. In truth, this is one of the most depressing plays I’ve seen this season — but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
