There’s a reason Jeanine Tesori is considered one of modern musical theater’s finest composers. Her unique ability to convey complicated emotions through music is well documented. Six of her musicals have earned Tony nominations, including Caroline, or Change; Thoroughly Modern Millie; and, more recently, the current Broadway hit Kimberly Akimbo. (She won her first Tony for Best Original Score in 2015 with the Pulitzer Prize finalist Fun Home.) This weekend, fans can check out one of Tesori’s earliest works, as Nashville Repertory Theatre presents Violet — onstage at TPAC’s Johnson Theater through May 21.
Based on Doris Betts’ short story “The Ugliest Pilgrim,” Violet follows a young woman with a devastating facial scar who journeys through the American South in 1964, convinced that a slick TV evangelist can make her whole. On the road, she encounters a pair of soldiers — Monty (a cocky kid, who initially sees Violet as an easy target) and Flick (a Black man who is able to see past her scar and recognize a kindred spirit).
It’s an intriguing premise that explores deep themes of beauty, self-love, forgiveness and acceptance. Brian Crawley’s book feels rather disjointed at times — overstuffed with flashbacks, dream sequences and other theatrical devices. And while the character of Violet certainly gives us a worthy hero, she’s a bit of a walking contradiction. One minute she demonstrates steely nerves and undeniable street smarts. (There’s a great bit when Violet whips her newfound friends in a friendly game of poker.) The next, she’s swept up in magical thinking, certain that a fraudulent faith healer holds the key to her happiness.
Still, Tesori’s music soars — providing an exhilarating blend of gospel, country and folk sounds. And thanks to the considerable efforts of director Tracey Copeland Halter (terrific in her Nashville Rep directorial debut) and this sensational cast, Violet’s unlikely journey feels more worthwhile.
Kelsey Brodeur makes a welcome return to the Rep in the title role, her lovely voice ringing out in songs like “On My Way” and “Lay Down Your Head.” She does a nice job of channeling Violet’s internal struggle. It’s interesting to note that the audience never sees a literal scar — because there’s no heavy makeup or prosthetics to hide behind, Brodeur must reveal her character’s damaged psyche purely through movement and gesture, subconsciously touching her cheek or averting her eyes when confronted by a stranger’s cruelty.
Mike Sallee Jr. also turns in a thoughtful performance as Flick, and I particularly enjoyed his rendition of “Let It Sing.” Nathan Quay Thomas brings a natural sense of swagger to the role of Monty (“Last Time I Came to Memphis”), and Riley West makes an impressive Rep debut as Young Violet, demonstrating a remarkable stage presence and powerful vocals.
Matthew Carlton delivers a particularly tender moment as Violet’s father in Act II’s “That’s What I Could Do,” while Ryan Greenawalt nearly steals the show as the cynical preacher. Together with the always-delightful Jennifer Whitcomb-Oliva, he provides one of the evening’s most memorable — and electrifying — moments with “Raise Me Up.” The entire ensemble really deserves recognition, anchored by seasoned pros such as Beth Anne Musiker and Piper Jones, along with newcomers Sheila DJ Calloway, Lawson Marchetti, Austin Jeffrey Smith and Yolanda Treece.
Music director Randy Craft leads a superb band, and I really liked the fact that they’re situated upstage, bathed in Darren E. Levin’s moody lighting. Gary C. Hoff’s simple scenic design ensures seamless scene changes, although some of the finer details are hard to pick out from the audience. And Lori Gann-Smith’s costumes capture the era nicely.
Violet is not your typical musical theater fare, and some may find its structure — including a rather rushed and overly tidy conclusion — frustrating. But there’s no denying the strength of these phenomenal performances. If you’re willing to go with it, you may find that this unconventional musical offers some interesting insights into life, love and how we all deal with our own scars.
