In 1956, one of the greatest singers of all time, Nat “King” Cole, became one of the first Black people to host a nationally broadcast television show. Alas, despite drawing top talent and enjoying a much higher profile than earlier series led by Hazel Scott and Billy Daniels, “The Nat King Cole Show” had trouble finding advertisers and lasted barely more than a year. 

Cole, an elegant and gracious entertainer but no one’s fool, had a few wry words about the fate of his variety program. The most famous quote attributed to him on the matter is a brief one: “Madison Avenue is afraid of the dark.”

That line is spoken, and repeated, in “Lights Out: Nat ‘King’ Cole,” a play with music — a lot of it, predictably — scripted by Colman Domingo, a celebrated stage and screen actor and budding playwright, and Patricia McGregor, who also helms this New York premiere. Yet while social consciousness looms large in this one-act piece, it’s less a straightforward historical account than a lyrical reflection on the torment that surely lay behind Cole’s witty remarks.

The play unfolds during the final taping of Cole’s show, in December 1957, after it had failed to secure a national sponsor. We see the performer, played by a marvelous Dulé Hill, as he endures a final indignity backstage: A makeup woman arrives to powder his face, in order to make his skin appear lighter.

It’s at about this point that we first hear Mr. Hill’s Nat sing, in a silky, liquid baritone that simulates Cole’s utterly unique voice, and his distinctive grace, with a rare combination of facility and modesty. The production is packed with vocal talent, from Ruby Lewis, who appears as Betty Hutton and Peggy Lee, to, at the preview I attended, the adolescent Mekhi Richardson, who alternates with Walter Russell III as Billy Preston and a young Nat.

There are also gems from Cole’s catalog, among them “Nature Boy” and “Unforgettable”; the latter is performed as a duet with a very young Natalie Cole, charmingly played and sung by Krystal Joy Brown, who also turns in a sultry, witty portrait of Eartha Kitt.

But “Lights Out” doesn’t aim to cover its subject’s repertoire comprehensively, any more than it tries to recreate the last episode of his show, which in fact did not feature any of the aforementioned performers. Mr. Domingo and Ms. McGregor instead focus on the racism that Cole endured (which extended far beyond what is documented here), despite being a top recording artist.

This struggle is traced through two characters who figure prominently in the play. One is Nat’s producer, who keeps insisting he’s on the singer’s side — “I’m not ‘the man,’” he professes early on — but who becomes increasingly unconvincing and, eventually, antagonistic. Christopher Ryan Grant lends an intriguing ambiguity to the role, growing smarmier and creepier as the plot thickens.

Daniel J. Watts is a shinier, more buoyant presence as Sammy Davis Jr., who cajoles and haunts Nat throughout the taping, which grows more and more surreal, evolving into a sort of fever dream — or more of a nightmare, with David Bengali’s video design and Stacey Derosier’s lighting conspiring to create a hellish atmosphere. 

“Lights Out” nonetheless proves uplifting, delivering a message of resilience as much as defiance. And while not technically a musical, it offers some of the most delightful music, and singing, available on New York’s stages at the moment.