The Broadway musical Waitress has finally made its way to Australia, but this sweet confection feels oddly insubstantial. Despite ultra-bright colours, glazed surfaces, and lashings of whipped cream, American pies often taste weirdly unsatisfying. In this way, they are the perfect subject for this musical, which has very little to say but says it all in the sweetest, most strident American accent it can muster.
A Tragic Backstory Left Unexplored
Waitress has had an unusual journey to the stage, adapted in 2015 from a 2007 film written and directed by Adrienne Shelly. Shelly was murdered before the film's release, lending a tragic pall to the material that could have provided profundity or pathos. Sadly, that wasn't the way it was baked. Singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles channels some poignancy into her lovely songs, but book writer Jessie Nelson runs a mile from the melancholy.
Plot and Performances
The story follows Jenna (Natalie Bassingthwaighte), a waitress and baker at a local diner, trapped in an abusive marriage to Earl (Keanu Gonzalez). When she meets married obstetrician Dr Pomatter (Rob Mills), they begin an affair. The show's choice between a turd and a profoundly unethical clinician is meant to be a dilemma, but the plot revolves heavily around suitors, failing the Bechdel test. A local pie-baking competition is waved around but leads nowhere.
Bassingthwaighte delivers a solid, convivial performance, her voice a little raspy but confident in the key second act number She Used to Be Mine. Mills resembles Beaker the Muppet, electrocuted by lust, while Gabriyel Thomas shines as fiercely self-sufficient Becky. Mackenzie Dunn overplays anxious Dawn, and her scenes with Gareth Isaac's hammy Ogie are just silly.
Technical Brilliance, But Hollow Core
Director Diane Paulus finds effortless solutions to transitions, keeping the show breezing along. Scott Pask's set, with romanticised backdrops of dreamily desolate Americana, and Ken Billington's rich lighting, suggest Edward Hopper or David Lynch. The onstage orchestra is terrific, responsive to Bareilles' soaring melodies. Yet the material avoids serious questions: Jenna's reluctance to consider abortion or adoption is clearly faith-based, but the show has nothing to say. Earl is a ludicrous plant, so transparently awful he should wear a black cape. Any realism is stymied by unrelenting evasiveness and faux-optimism.
A Questionable Timing
It's difficult to understand why this musical has been staged in Australia now, more than a decade after it was written and five years after it closed on Broadway. Its strict heteronormativity and backward sexual politics feel set in the 1950s, and its gee-whiz optimism sits uncomfortably in a more sardonic culture. It lacks the specificity of musicals like Come from Away or Once. After a while, Waitress's forced bonhomie starts to taste cloying; it needs something to cut through all the sugar.
Waitress is at Her Majesty's Theatre in Melbourne until 9 July, then at Sydney Lyric from 1 August to 4 October.
