A dash of sugar balances the bitter
“Waitress” finds a sweet line through a woman’s dark history
“Sugar.” It’s a word repeated like a whispered incantation throughout the musical “Waitress” at the Buell through Dec. 31. It’s an endearment, a mother’s voice remembered, as well as a staple in the pies Jenna Hunterson bakes for Joe’s Pie Diner and christens with inventive, personal, even baroque names such as Marshmallow Mermaid Pie or I Don’t Want Earl’s Baby Pie.
Desi Oakley brings a big and lush voice to the role of the waitress working in a small Southern town who has dreams of escaping if not her hometown, her brute of a husband, Earl (Nick Bailey). Remember the Earl who meets his end in the Dixie Chicks’ song? Similar dude.
When what Jenna fears is confirmed by a pregnancy test she takes in the diner’s bathroom, surrounded by best friends and co-workers Becky and Dawn, that leave-taking becomes more pressing and trickier.
It’s not often a song begins with the lines “Jenna, time to pee on a stick.” But pop singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles brings tart wit and no small amount of sugar to the show’s lyrics and music. “Knocked Up Club” finds ensemble members doing a welcoming ditty in the doctor’s office as Jenna waits — pie in hand — to see her doc. It’s a smooth, cheeky bit of business. Think if each of the Andrews Sisters were eight months along.
Turns out Jenna’s old doc is semi-retired. Bryan Fenkart plays the new gynecologist in town. Consider him her (Uh-oh)B-GYN.
Jessie Nelson (who has a slew of film credits) wrote the book, which hews closely its source
material. “Waitress” is based on the 2007 indie movie, written and directed by Adrienne Shelly. The actress-writer-director was murdered three months before her film debuted at the Sundance Film Festival.
Yes, Jenna plies that gift her mother passed down. But it’s clear that her mother left her with a more vexed inheritance: a tolerance for a brutal man. It’s a tricky recipe to mix the violent with the vibrant. “Waitress” pulls it off for the most part.
The tunes are pleasing and narratively apt, if not quite indelible. This production is rich with accomplished singing. Charity Angel Dawson as the brassy Becky and Lenne Klingaman as the ditzy yet bright Dawn join Oakley in soul-satisfying harmonizing. Fenkart hits the neurotic notes of Dr. Pomatter, though the doc-patient chemistry didn’t convince me. Jeremy Morse arrives with manic humor as Dawn’s suitor, Ogie. The two misfits make complementary coiled springs of energy. “The Elf and the Turtle: An Epic Romance,” Becky quips. Keep an eye open, you might catch Morse cartwheeling off the stage after “Never, Ever, Getting Rid of Me.”
The show’s terrific band slides onto the stage, where it takes up swinging residency at the diner. The piano doubles as a counter top where some of Jenna’s masterpieces are showcased. It’s a nice touch. “Waitress” is rife with fine touches, enough to make you hope for a transcendence that never quite comes. Though Scott Pask’s set — which can go from a twilight-hued bus stop to a wood-paneled home and back to the diner with splendid grace — comes close.
Director Diane Paulus, who nurtured the musical at Harvard’s American Repertory Theatre (where she is artistic director) before taking it to Broadway, has a particular gift with motion and movement. Paulus and choreographer Lorin Latarro tease the daily gestures of the diner life into some pretty, nuanced numbers, especially “Opening Up,” which gets at the quiet beauty of routine.
‘“Waitress” has an oldfashion quality that is at times gently, other times willfully, upended. After all, infidelity and abuse are two of the show’s themes.
The show doesn’t pretend to whisk away trauma, which we get a glimpse of when Jenna sings “What Baking Can Do.” In the background, pantry shelves reveal and then block the dancers’ pantomime of Jenna’s parents’ relationship, shutting like doors on a dark memory.
Bailey’s portrayal of Earl’s narcissistic demands and volatile moods is convincing enough that it felt odd to applaud when the actor came out for the curtain call.
In addition to Cal (Ryan Dunkin), the diner’s gruff bear of a manager, there is a Joe to go with the diner’s name. Larry Marshall plays the cantankerous owner. He’s crusty to be sure. Of course, Joe’s got wisdom — so many curmudgeons do — and resources.
As it navigates a history of violence and the Jenna’s ache for liberation, “Waitress” may be an example of wanting your pie and eating it, too. If so, Jenna, her small-town cohort and the late-arriving little Lulu make a sweet argument that there’s nothing so very wrong with that.