Theatre review: Waitress

Jessie Nelson (book) and Sara Bareilles’ (music and lyrics) musical tragicomedy Waitress, based on Adrienne Shelly’s film and currently entering its fourth year on Broadway, comes to the West End with one of its former New York leading ladies, Katharine McPhee, in the title role. Jenna is one of the waitresses at a small-town diner that specialises in pies, but she’s also the cook who bakes them, and comes up with a new flavour invention every day to be the daily special. She themes these around her moods and preoccupations of the day, so ends up with flavours like blueberry and bacon, or marshmallow and mermaid (?) pie that have become the diner’s signature dish. At the start of the show she’s devastated to discover that she’s pregnant – and that it is her husband Earl’s (Peter Hannah) baby.

Earl is stupid, emotionally and probably physically abusive, and so needy he wants Jenna to promise she won’t love the baby more than him; Jenna starts hiding away her tips, saving up so she can leave him. She’s also hatched a plan to enter a baking competition with an improbably large cash prize.

Pie review: Apple

Waitress’ many merchandising opportunities include little pie jars in three flavours, each selling at SIX ENGLISH POUNDS*. Apple is the classic American flavour of course, and the oddest one to encounter in a jar. And it’s not what I would call a pie – it’s barely a crumble, there’s a biscuit base with a filling on top. There’s quite satisfyingly large chunks of apple in it but there’s also a lot of cinnamon syrup that’s really sickly – if this is Mom’s Apple Pie I’ll stick to Mum’s Apple Crumble.

She also starts an affair with her new gynaecologist Dr Pomatter (David Hunter,) whom she brings freshly-baked pies at every appointment, and this is obviously the point at which I would make some smutty reference to him getting a mouthful of her pie but trust me when I say Diane Paulus’ production has MORE THAN got that covered. It’s generally very good at balancing the different aspects of the show, that could easily have got tripped up by the mix of comedy, drama and a central romantic couple both of whom are married to other people. The latter is helped by just how downright charming Hunter is as the doctor, whose exaggerated awkwardness could have been naff but he pulls it off and has chemistry with McPhee, who proves a leading lady you care about, as well as one who can more than belt out a tune.

Pie review: Chocolate and salted caramel

I’m not a fan of chucking salt into pudding but this one isn’t too bad. It’s still a bit sickly, but the biscuit base isn’t as sweet as the rest so once you crack into that and mix it up a bit it’s better. This one comes with a little splat of cream on top.

McPhee’s backed up by her two waitressing colleagues, each of whom has her own romantic subplot; Marisha Wallace’s Becky is the obligatory no-nonsense best friend whose affair with diner manager Cal (Stephen Leask) finds them getting caught in the middle of something in unexpected places; Dawn (Laura Baldwin) is the shy girl who’s been persuaded to join a dating app. Her ensuing relationship with Ogie (Jack McBrayer) is another place where the show could have found itself in dodgy territory, as he comes across pretty pushy and stalkery in his first appearance, but McBrayer succeeds in making him essentially harmless and likeable, and once again the show’s overall charm stops it from going into an awkward place. Kelly Agbowu’s wisecracking nurse is a bit obviously written to be a memorable scene-stealer, but there’s no question that it works.

Pie review: Banoffee

I mean to really fit into the theme of the show the pies should be called something like “peanut butter and unicorn” or “the concept of time,” but banoffee is the one that best fits into a jar, given that it’s one you’d actually expect to have a biscuit crumb base. No pieces of actual banana that we could find, but the flavour’s there and overall this is by the far the best of the three. Still that little bit too sweet though, and none of them are worth SIX ENGLISH POUNDS.

Scott Pask’s set evokes Americana without feeling hokey, and it’s fun to watch him slide the onstage band around to follow the action. Bareilles’ songs are entertaining and varied – even if none of them got immediately stuck in my head there’s few duds among them. They’re also much heavier on the hand-claps than most musical theatre orchestration. Waitress is probably one of those shows that might benefit from not being too closely examined as its separate elements really don’t feel like they should go together; and yet something about it gels, and it feels much shorter than its lengthy running time. (It should definitely be classified as fantasy fiction, though, as everyone in town isn’t morbidly obese.)

Waitress by Jessie Nelson and Sara Bareilles, based on the film by Adrienne Shelly, is booking until the 19th of October at the Adelphi Theatre.

Running time: 2 hours 50 minutes including interval.

Photo credit: Johan Persson.

*fortunately I had a voucher for one; I bought another and Alex the third, so we got to sample all three without having to take out a mortgage