When one or both of Ariana DeBose and Judy Kuhn are on stage all is right in Classic Stage Company’s revival of The Baker’s Wife. But without their charisma, stage presence, and creamily lovely singing, other elements of this musical—with music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, and book by Joseph Stein—can seem rickety.
The production (running to Dec. 21) has lots of charm. It is smoothly choreographed (by Stephanie Klemons) and directed (by Gordon Greenberg). David Cullen supplies lovely orchestrations. Jason Sherwood has designed the space to look like the town square of the French village of Concorde, with café tables, balconies, shuttered shops, and hanging plants. Catherine Zuber’s pretty costumes and Bradley King’s softly gorgeous lighting take us to a pre-war mid-1930s. When you walk in, the actors may encourage you to take part in a game of boules.
The musical’s book is its thorn. Perhaps on screen—the 1976 musical is based on Marcel Pagnol’s 1938 film La Femme du Boulanger—it would make more goofily comic sense for a town to be so invested in a much-loved bakery’s future that its menfolk would pursue the baker’s wife to return to him when she is suspected of infidelity. Here they seem like dweeby vigilantes.
That husband, played by a soulfully earnest Scott Bakula, embodies the show itself, willing away all signs of disturbance. The baker’s first name is “Aimable” (literally “kind” in French), and Aimable is beyond that. He is older than his wife Geneviève, played by Oscar winner DeBose, and he brings her to Concorde to varying degrees of shock and disbelief. Aimable feels the same, and says he is happy enough to say “I love you” for both himself and Geneviève, as she appears not able to say it to him.
The couple are happy to make bread for the townsfolk, and in a lovely number their neighbors relish their delicious creations (Breads Bakery delivers a daily fresh loaf to be consumed by the cast in this number).
Dark portents are sewn in the relationships we see. The women in the show are constantly referred to as the property of their husbands. Bar owners Denise (Kuhn) and Claude (Robert Cuccioli) trade barbs that are far from fun, Kuhn adeptly conveying her character’s mix of spikiness and sadness.
Another female character, Hortense (Sally Murphy), is the frustrated, put-upon wife of Barnaby (Manu Narayan), too nervous to buy the pastries she really wants. Arnie Burton is excellent as the town’s teacher, despairing at the community’s ignorance; Will Roland relishes delivering the bug-eyed zeal of the town priest.
The central drama unfolds when young hunk Dominique (Kevin William Paul) sets his sights on Geneviève, who first rebuffs him, then suddenly sees having sex with him and running away with him as a great idea. Also a mystery: Dominique has great lats and is clearly a regular at the local 1930s Equinox, but he comes across as unhinged stalker, not temptation-stallion.
You can’t quite see why Geneviève is with Bakula’s extremely passive baker, and you also don’t understand why she’d go off with this insufferable hunk. When the women sing a collective song about love and romance, you might wonder why it isn’t about their status and relationships.
DeBose’s songs, especially the famous “Meadowlark”—sung at countless auditions, and by greats such as Patti LuPone and Betty Buckley—are gorgeous, soaring, and compelling. But why Geneviève returns to her husband, and a marital prison she escaped from, is a mystery. His own rage is eventually expressed as a rant at their beloved cat.
When Claude gets back into Denise’s good graces with one apologetically proffered rose, you think: Oh, come on monsieur, Denise (and Judy Kuhn) deserve way more than that.
Averse to fully confronting its textual conflicts, The Baker’s Wife instead opts for a mellifluously sung, all-is-fine finale. With its lovely performances this show isn’t just crumbs, but it’s not the full loaf either.
