Magic in the Making at Dio’s ‘The Violet Hour’
PINCKNEY, Mich.— The Violet Hour, now playing at The Dio dinner theatre, is a reference to that transitional time of the evening when day begins slipping into night and the prism of the sky casts a purple glow on the Manhattan landscape. It becomes a metaphor for the liminal moments in the characters’ lives. This play lives in the coin-flip eternity between heads and tails, when time is fluid and anything is still possible.
The script, by award-winning playwright Richard Greenberg is rich with clever dialog, historical references, and literary allusions. There is a distinct optimism shared by those who’ve survived The Great War. And even though the characters denigrate the populist culture bubbling up around them, they seem certain that the future is full of golden apples, ripe for the picking. But this is the world’s violet hour, too, and as it tips into the Roaring Twenties it is blissfully blind to the stock market crash that looms ahead.
Billed as a tragicomedy, this compelling show, directed by Steve DeBruyne, is set on April Fool’s Day, 1919, and our protagonist, John (Dante Justice), is on the brink of making a momentous decision. He is launching a new publishing company and John’s office is overrun with manuscripts. The avalanche of paper is the personal hell of John’s overeducated assistant Gidger (Dan Morrison). Gidger is eloquent on the charms of Gerard Manley Hopkins’ sprung rhythm and the repartee of the Algonquin Roundtable. He doesn’t think much of John’s approach to the publishing business. And he is less than sympathetic when John complains that he can only afford to publish one book.
Despite the stacks of manuscripts lying about, John is only considering two authors, both with a professional and personal claim on him. One is John’s college friend, Denny McCleary (Alexander Cousins), whose brilliant but rambling manuscript fills three crates of loose paper in John’s office. Denny is in love with the nouveau riche heiress, Rosamund Plinth (Lauren Landman), but her father won’t let them wed unless Denny can prove that he has a promising career.
The other author is John’s secret lover, the famous chanteuse Jessie Brewster (Ami “Amise” McClenon). Her memoir pulls the lid off the personal challenges and ultimate victory of a woman of color finding success in America. They both understand the need for secrecy. An interracial relationship between a young, privileged white man and a black woman of more worldly experience would have shocked both John’s and Jessie’s discrete social circles and ruined both of them. The casual racism tossed around by the white characters makes this painfully clear.
It is significant that John’s nascent publishing company is called Arbiter House. John has positioned himself as the authoritative decision maker. Yet, when he struggles to choose between his friend Denny and his lover Jessie, he complains to Gidger that he can’t make such an important decision with out knowing the future implications. He demands a crystal ball. That’s when the heady waft of magical realism stirs the virtual curtains. Gidger announces that a strange printing machine has been delivered and has begun, of its own accord, to spew reams of paper. Gidger discovers that these are pages of books that have clearly been written in the future. John’s future. And as John and Gidger begin reading these historical accounts, they grasp the terrifying consequences of John’s first publishing selection. Be careful what you wish for in the violet hour.
This show boasts a smart ensemble performance by a terrific cast. Dan Morrison, as Gidger, clearly has the most fun. His quirky character seems at times possessed by anachronistic personas – humming Doris Day’s “Que Sera, Sera,” embracing the idea of being “gay,” and spouting 21st century urban slang – without really understanding what any of it means. Although Gidger is dismayed to have been seemingly left out of the future history books, he is much luckier than those whose personal tragedies are chronicled in black and white. How can John choose between choices that all have dire outcomes? Anything is possible in the violet hour.
Set, lighting, and sound design by Matt Tomich is outstanding. Although the entire play is confined to the shabby offices of Arbiter Publishing, the violet lighting lends a magical air that frames a single window looking out at the Brooklyn Bridge. Costume design by Norma Polk helps ground the characters in their period and class – with Jessie in a smart satin dress and fur coat, while Rosamund favors a gossamer floral frock that seems to suggest her latent fragility. Props are by Eileen Obradovich. Steve DeBruyne is assisted by Karen Dobson.
“The Violet Hour” is one of those plays that’s easy to embrace and hard to shake off. It’s about to be released as a new musical, but we suggest you see this one first. It runs at The Dio in Pinkney through February 26th. For more information about securing reservations or to peruse the prefix dinner menu, visit their website.