15 July 2024 I 19:30 I Menier Chocolate Factory, London
⭐⭐⭐
The Baker's Wife, written by Joseph Stein and musically adapted by Stephen Schwartz, transforms the Menier Chocolate Factory into an early 20th century French bakery. From the smells of cigarettes and freshly baked bread, to the immersion of 'cabaret tables', Gordon Greenberg's direction does everything in its power to salvage a bizarre original story. With characters increasingly difficult to admire, there are joyous moments, but overly disorganised in how the musical is presented to audiences.
Schwartz's writing is lyrically adventurous, with songs including Bread behaving as enchanting delights, satirical displays of the provincial French love for all things patisserie. The scripting however falls short, drawing upon the many storylines of the town's citizens and leaving the bakery somewhat neglected. Transitionally, these are explored even further through short snippets, breaking the flow as strikingly obvious distractions from set changes. However, despite one of the venue's largest casts to date, a hefty vocal force is breathtaking in such an enclosed space.
Despite belonging to the titular character, we see little of Lucie Jones' Genevieve (The Baker's Wife), where the scandal she encounters makes it harder to sympathise with her plight. Nonetheless, Jones' presence is masterful, with her Meadowlark solo defining the production. The way that she can command emotion through the ballad leaves the audience transfixed.
Equally, starring as Dominique, Joaquin Pedro Valdes performs Proud Lady with irresistible mischief, where a villainised role is tremendously likeable with spirit. Tackling an affair between the younger lovers, minimal stage time forms irredeemable characters, that I find it hard to care for amongst livelier roles.
Likewise with Clive Rowe appearing as Aimable (The Baker), he approaches the musicality of Schwartz's score with a bumbling excitement to begin, nailing the innocence of the role. But progressing through the performance, a distraught character induces nothing except pity from audiences, struggling to find a likeability. An admirable performance that struggles to expose honest emotion.
One of the highlights from this adaptation of The Baker's Wife is the use of 'cabaret tables', a small seating area to mimic a café appearance. I have been very lucky to be seated by a two-person table, immediately next to the stage, where every whirlwind and chaotic motion is felt, but also the softer tones, begging you to lean in and trust the comfortability of the auditorium.
Paul Farnsworth's set design really allows these seats to feel a part of the community, aesthetically snug where this immersion endorses the excitement of the stage under Paul Anderson's lighting, a successful bid to place us in the show. Performers Josefina Gabrielle and Norman Pace are terrific in interacting with audiences, having the opportunity to speak with both upon entering the space as a key memory for this adaptation.
With a stable cast of performers, including an intimate band led by Dustin Conrad, The Baker's Wife is an enjoyable evening at the theatre, but leaves itself hollow in its purpose. Holding elements of comedy, romance, tragedy and more, the book occasionally suffers from a lack of individuality, yet to discover the sweet intention behind it. Greenberg leads the material with warmth, but the grounds of the original musical fail to excite.
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