Little Bear Ridge Road

 B+

Samuel D. Hunter, the Bard of Boise, is back with another foray into the lives of small-town Idahoans. We meet Sarah, an irascible, fiercely independent woman who has chosen to live in isolation half an hour away from the nearest town, and Ethan, her estranged gay nephew, who has returned to town from Seattle to settle the affairs of his recently deceased meth addict father, whom he had not seen in years. Late one evening in 2020, during the early days of the pandemic, Ethan drops in on Sarah to pick up the deed to his father’s house. Sarah somewhat grudgingly invites him to stay with her while he is in town. The two make tentative attempts to connect. Ethan reveals that his writing career is at a standstill and he has split with his partner in Seattle. Sarah does not reveal that she is seriously ill, a fact that Ethan discovers inadvertently. At the local gay bar, Ethan meets James, a seemingly happy, purposeful astrophysics student. Their budding relationship is either evidence that opposites attract or that there aren’t many choices at gay bars in Idaho. A year later Ethan is still living with Sarah. James’s cheerfulness has seemingly lubricated the relationship between aunt and nephew, but a casual remark James drops provokes a crisis that surfaces Ethan’s long-time grudge against Sarah and revives her need for independence. The final scene provides a ray of hope that Ethan has begun moving forward. As usual, Hunter shows great compassion for his characters. He also brings in a sociocultural context that includes the insanity of our health system, the inanity of our television shows, the delicate balance between loneliness and dependence, the small-town drug crisis, and the chasm between those who have struggled to make ends meet and those who haven’t. We are fortunate that Sarah is played by the magnificent Laurie Metcalf and Ethan, by the excellent Micah Stock, who holds his own with Metcalf. John Drea is fine as James, making the most of a slightly underwritten role. Meighan Gerachis lends warmth to a small role in the final scene. Joe Mantello once again shows why he is one of our finest directors. Scott Pask’s minimalist set has a gray three-seater reclining sofa on a gray carpeted turntable under a revolving fan. Jessica Pabst’s costumes are apt. The title possibly refers to the location of Sarah's home, but has no apparent evocative importance. While I admired the play and loved the performances, I was not as moved as I was by the last Hunter play I saw, A Case for the Existence of God. Running time: 95 minutes, no intermission.