Opined November 13, 2003
Usher Nonsense #13 – The Violet hour
The Violet Hour, Manhattan Theatre Club at the Biltmore
October 16 - December 21 2003
by Richard Greenburg, Directed by Evan Yionoulis
With Mario Cantone, Dagmara Dominczyk, Scott Foley, Robert Sean Leonard,
and Robin Miles
In the interest of full disclosure - I am one of two people who will admit to despising
"Take Me Out" by this play's same author. I did, however, LOVE the performance
by Denis O'Hare, who received the Tony last season.
That being said - I am now two for two with Richard Greenburg. "The Violet Hour"
is like watching a movie that was edited by someone with Attention Deficit Disorder.
There are some wonderful moments in this play, little snippets where you go “ahah”.
But they tend to leap out and startle you, then dissolve - never to be heard from
again. The director might have corrected some of this, but it appears she spent a lot
of time collaborating on the set and left the actors to flutter in the breeze. Call this
"The Violence Hour" and the audience is the victim.
Set in 1919, the play takes place in a Manhattan loft where there is a desk, piles of
manuscripts, one chair and one stool. This means there is a lot of wandering done
by the actors as they search for a plot. In fact, this is the opening scene – the owner
(Robert Sean Leonard) and assistant (Mario Cantone) at a new publishing firm are
searching for tickets to a play. In this first scene we get to watch the assistant go
from 0 to 60 in a nanno-second playing a gay man in a time before the reference was
coined. He stays in that gear for two hours, moving in and out of this loft-office to
announce three visitors (Dagmara Dominczyk, Scott Foley, and Robin Miles) as well
as the arrival of a large machine that no one ordered, no one goes to look at, and
whose presence no one questions.
Pretty soon the machine, which is upstage and seen only in shadow – as though it
was stolen from the set of “Wicked” - starts spewing out papers that flood the stage
and drift into the audience. The characters overlook these papers, stepping on or
over them while they discuss the possible publication of the publishing company’s
first book. Will it be the 5,000-page manuscript, “The Violet Hour” (referring to the
light of dusk in New York City) by his college friend (Foley) or the autobiography by
his black lover (Miles)?
At the end of the first act we discover that this machine has been spewing out paper
that is printed with predictions about the Leonard and his friends that span the entire
20th century. Oh my!
In the second act, the stage is filled with a dozen tall piles of paper from the machine
and no desk or chairs. The actors plop themselves down hither and yon on these
piles of paper that never never fall over while they read and re-read the same few
sheets of paper to reveal the machine’s printed predictions. At no time does anyone
seriously question the source of this machine or the author of this endless
manuscript. Instead, the sun sets, creating the violet hour (hammered home by the
lighting design), we find out that none of these predictions seem headed for the
coming true department, and the characters decide to use those missing tickets from
the opening scene and go to the theatre.
As if to underscore the audience's confusion about why they are still in their seats
after two hours, as the publisher leaves for the theatre, he realizes out loud "The
universe will go on and do what it is going to do. What I do won't change it. It
doesn’t matter what I do."
Which begs the response: If you were sitting where we are, it would matter.
You should go see the restored Biltmore though. Maybe they are givng tours.
©2003 Tulis McCall
Usher Nonsense #13 – The Violet hour
The Violet Hour, Manhattan Theatre Club at the Biltmore
October 16 - December 21 2003
by Richard Greenburg, Directed by Evan Yionoulis
With Mario Cantone, Dagmara Dominczyk, Scott Foley, Robert Sean Leonard,
and Robin Miles
In the interest of full disclosure - I am one of two people who will admit to despising
"Take Me Out" by this play's same author. I did, however, LOVE the performance
by Denis O'Hare, who received the Tony last season.
That being said - I am now two for two with Richard Greenburg. "The Violet Hour"
is like watching a movie that was edited by someone with Attention Deficit Disorder.
There are some wonderful moments in this play, little snippets where you go “ahah”.
But they tend to leap out and startle you, then dissolve - never to be heard from
again. The director might have corrected some of this, but it appears she spent a lot
of time collaborating on the set and left the actors to flutter in the breeze. Call this
"The Violence Hour" and the audience is the victim.
Set in 1919, the play takes place in a Manhattan loft where there is a desk, piles of
manuscripts, one chair and one stool. This means there is a lot of wandering done
by the actors as they search for a plot. In fact, this is the opening scene – the owner
(Robert Sean Leonard) and assistant (Mario Cantone) at a new publishing firm are
searching for tickets to a play. In this first scene we get to watch the assistant go
from 0 to 60 in a nanno-second playing a gay man in a time before the reference was
coined. He stays in that gear for two hours, moving in and out of this loft-office to
announce three visitors (Dagmara Dominczyk, Scott Foley, and Robin Miles) as well
as the arrival of a large machine that no one ordered, no one goes to look at, and
whose presence no one questions.
Pretty soon the machine, which is upstage and seen only in shadow – as though it
was stolen from the set of “Wicked” - starts spewing out papers that flood the stage
and drift into the audience. The characters overlook these papers, stepping on or
over them while they discuss the possible publication of the publishing company’s
first book. Will it be the 5,000-page manuscript, “The Violet Hour” (referring to the
light of dusk in New York City) by his college friend (Foley) or the autobiography by
his black lover (Miles)?
At the end of the first act we discover that this machine has been spewing out paper
that is printed with predictions about the Leonard and his friends that span the entire
20th century. Oh my!
In the second act, the stage is filled with a dozen tall piles of paper from the machine
and no desk or chairs. The actors plop themselves down hither and yon on these
piles of paper that never never fall over while they read and re-read the same few
sheets of paper to reveal the machine’s printed predictions. At no time does anyone
seriously question the source of this machine or the author of this endless
manuscript. Instead, the sun sets, creating the violet hour (hammered home by the
lighting design), we find out that none of these predictions seem headed for the
coming true department, and the characters decide to use those missing tickets from
the opening scene and go to the theatre.
As if to underscore the audience's confusion about why they are still in their seats
after two hours, as the publisher leaves for the theatre, he realizes out loud "The
universe will go on and do what it is going to do. What I do won't change it. It
doesn’t matter what I do."
Which begs the response: If you were sitting where we are, it would matter.
You should go see the restored Biltmore though. Maybe they are givng tours.
©2003 Tulis McCall
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