House of the ruby sun

The Ruby Sunrise is a likable play with the occasional cloudy moment. A cast of talented actors, led by Megan Skye Hale, ekes some truly exceptional moments from playwright Rinne Groff’s troubled script.

This period piece follows a mother and daughter during the early days of television. Ruby (Skye Hale), a homeless farm girl and self-taught engineer, struggles to assemble a television in her aunt’s barn—using a generator, a stolen radio, and a series of homemade cathode tubes. Twenty-five years later, her daughter Lulu (Brooke Fletcher) is an aspiring production company secretary in the growing and lucrative television industry.

These two women have all the trappings of memorable heroines: independence, spunk, brains, humor and courage. Groff’s script, however, makes them relentlessly one-dimensional idealists. Skye Hale projects a fierce anger and loneliness as the brilliant-but-abused Ruby and Fletcher is simply radiant. Yet, even the actresses’ electric performances fail to make their characters truly resonate—Groff just hasn’t provided the material and, in the hands of less talented actresses, this play would fall flat.

The lowest point of the production is Lulu’s tantrum in a television studio about executive decisions made regarding the production of her script. It’s poorly scripted and makes an otherwise compelling character seem like a hysterical woman, but Fletcher handles it gracefully and makes the confrontation seem almost rational. There aren’t many actresses who could make “shit heel” sound like the worst insult in the world.

In the capable hands of Theatre Vertigo’s cast and crew, though, The Ruby Sunrise shines despite the occasional boring monologue. The minor players are just as rewarding as Fletcher and Skye Hale. MaryAnne Glazebrook’s portrayal of Lois, Ruby’s resentful aunt and reluctant landlord, is one of the high points of the production.

Glazebrook is equally enjoyable in the second act, where she plays Ethel, a prima donna has-been actress who hopes that a role in the tele-drama based on Ruby’s struggle will revive her flagging career.

Mario Calcagno is likewise excellent as Ruby’s fellow boarder, who falls head over heels for her. Gary Norman, as Martin, a ruthless executive at the television company, comes dangerously close to stealing the show as he plays an amalgamation of Mad Men characters. Martin is, by far, the most enjoyable character, perhaps because he’s the only one not plagued by interminable monologues about changing the world through television.

The set design and blocking in this production are flawless, as is composer Mark LaPierre’s original period-appropriate jazz soundtrack. The lighting design also shines, especially in the parts of the show that are set in the television studio. It’s really enjoyable to watch a play that really tries to look like television, and The Ruby Sunrise succeeds in this.

The Ruby Sunrise’s overarching theme seems to be the idea of “persistence of vision.” Ruby introduces this term early on to explain the visual phenomenon behind watching television (that is, our eyes piece together a story when presented with a series of moving images). Groff clearly intends for this idea to refer to her protagonists’ unending struggle to tell stories and help people connect with one another through the medium of television.

We’re meant to walk away from The Ruby Sunrise thinking that, with a clear enough vision and enough persistence, we can change the world. Unfortunately, it seems that Ruby and Lulu don’t succeed in their goals—with a script like this, they’re unlikely to even change this production’s audience members.