Microtone Media
Carrie Hitchcock, April Paul and Jonathan Wainwright (left to right) in the Forward Theater production of "Lewiston," 2021.
In 1804, Thomas Jefferson commissioned Meriwether Lewis and William Clark to travel west, to explore the newly acquired Louisiana Territory and search for a northwest passage from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean. They didn’t ultimately find one, but they did travel 8,000 miles in two-and-a-half years, documenting their journey and piecing together the shapes of the mountains, rivers and valleys that make up a huge part of the U.S.
Their enthusiastic president was thrilled. Jefferson declared, “We shall delineate with correctness the great arteries of this great country: those who come after us will fill up the canvas we begin.” And with Lewis and Clark’s richly detailed maps in hand, American settlers did just that. They pushed Native people to the edges of the country and bought, sold and colonized every inch of “canvas” in a matter of decades, rather than the generations that Jefferson had predicted. Initially omitted from history, the legend of Lewis and Clark was revived on the hundredth anniversary of their trip, and from that moment on they have been celebrated (by school children at least) for taming the West and opening the frontier.
In Lewiston/Clarkston, Forward Theater’s current duo of plays available online, modern characters who are distant relations of the famous explorers travel in Lewis and Clark’s footsteps, only to end up in much less glamorous terrain; deserted parking lots, shabby roadside stands, and working the overnight shift of big box stores. One character laments that the present is a lousy time to live in America because unlike the dawn of the 19th century, “There’s just nothing left to discover.” But over the course of many strained conversations that comprise the works, the opposite is proven true repeatedly. There is so much between these people that is unsaid or misunderstood. There is still so much left for them to explore and discover.
Samuel D. Hunter’s nuanced, poignant plays shine a light on several wandering souls who are desperately hoping to orient themselves and map their futures. In contrast, Hunter also introduces us to people who have given up on finding new paths forward. They feel stuck in the two small-ish towns named for the explorers — Lewiston and Clarkston — located across the Snake River from one another on the border between Idaho and Washington state. Gently directed by FTC artistic director Jen Uphoff Gray and FTC advisory company member Jake Penner, Lewiston/Clarkston is a collection of lovely, unexpected journeys across the empty spaces between families, friends and generations.
Before the pandemic hit, Forward Theater Company planned to present the two 90-minute plays back-to-back, with a dinner break in between. And while audiences can still follow that path in spirit — FTC has suggested restaurants on its website where theater viewers can order take-out meals and potentially chat with friends via Zoom before pressing play on the second piece — it’s not strictly necessary to see both stories in one evening. In fact, it may be easier to sit with the characters in Lewiston for a while before embarking on a journey through Clarkston.
Each three-person play stands on its own; parallel and often dark dramas about people searching for a purpose, waylaid by obstacles that feel as paralyzing and overwhelming as the frigid winters and treks over western mountain ranges must have seemed to Lewis and Clark. Seeing the plays together broadens the story of people in the shadows — those who are just scraping by, living lives that feel hopelessly small — but doesn’t necessarily deepen it.
In Lewiston, college drop-out Marnie (a pert and persistent April Paul) goes in search of her estranged grandmother Alice (a tough and mercurial Carrie Hitchcock) so she can claim her inheritance — land that’s been in her quasi-famous family since it was claimed by a Lewis cousin centuries ago. Disenchanted with her successful venture running an urban farm, Marnie heads instead to the country. She is lured back to the family property by the voice of her deceased mother, captured on cassette tapes from the 1980s, as her frequently depressed mom walked the historic Lewis and Clark Trail to the Pacific Ocean. (Laura Gray turns in a lovely performance as the mysterious voice from the past, discovering the beauty of small things and looking for some kind of enlightenment.)
But Alice has forged her own prickly and bitter path in the intervening years, selling off most of her property to real estate developers, and hocking kitschy, half-hearted fireworks from her front yard. Middle-aged Connor (a patient and calming Jonathan Wainwright) is Alice’s companion and helpmate, paying the mortgage with his job at Walgreens in a mutually beneficial, platonic arrangement.
As the play progresses, the picture of these misfits grows more distinct. A steady stream of revelations brings the audience closer to the characters and this unorthodox family closer to understanding and making space for one another. Each actor in Lewiston is pitch perfect, beginning as archetypes of their generation and gradually peeling back layers until they find common ground in difficult, raw honesty. The moments of vulnerability for each of them are as striking as they are disarming.
In Clarkston the themes are repeated with variations, but each new piece of information weighs heavier on the characters instead of lifting them up. This time the nerdy, recent college grad Jake (a wonderfully delicate Jarrod Langwinski) is waylaid on his cross-country trip to see the Pacific Ocean. Carrying the diagnosis of a degenerative disease, he follows in the footsteps of his long-lost relative William Clark while he still can. Jake meets Chris (the pragmatic and weary Josh Krause) while stocking shelves at Costco and immediately bonds with him. A kindred soul, Chris is a local, very closeted guy who also longs to strike out on his own but feels thwarted at every turn.
Through a fumbling romance that morphs into friendship, the two young men clumsily support each other through agonizing loss and desolation. As they separate fact from fiction in the Lewis and Clark story, they also delineate between the fantasy and reality of their own lives. Their relationship grows in fits and starts, but it does grow, thanks to the unadorned, open-hearted performances by both Krause and Langwinski.
Laura Gray is also stunning as Chris’s mom, Trisha. Fierce but co-dependent, determined but momentarily weak, maternal but abusive, Gray effortlessly winds these contradictions into a person who both loves and hurts her son in ways no one else is capable of. Her path of running in circles while dreaming of escape is solidified in the final scenes, which are the hardest moments of the plays to watch.
Although it is frequently thematically bleak, practically speaking this production of Lewiston/Clarkston offers a real ray of hope for theatergoers everywhere; FTC’s productions are back onstage in The Playhouse theater at Overture Center. Rehearsed in person, and filmed and edited expertly by Dave Alcorn and Microtone Media, they are presented on a spare but beautiful set by scenic designer Christopher Dunham. Along with the actors, the production elements shine, enhanced by the medium instead of hindered by it. FTC favorite sound designer/composer Joe Cerqua provides a folky, melancholy original score that infuses both plays with a distinctly American sound, while lighting designer Greg Hofmann plays with glowing sunsets on the painted backdrop; a steep, stone gorge cut out of the land by the Snake River.
This is a time when we are all painfully aware of the physical distance between us and our friends and families due to COVID-19. Watching the nightly news, there is also evidence of a deepening divide in our country both politically and economically. In the midst of this growing isolation Lewiston/Clarkston offers a tiny pinprick of hope for connection — much like the characters’ slow, tentative reach of each other’s hands at the end of each play. As Marnie’s mother remarks in Lewiston, “None of us will ever get it right all the time. But hopefully the things we get right are the things that last. Maybe all the bad parts die with us and a few little good parts survive.”
Lewiston/Clarkston is available for streaming at Overture.org through April 25.
