Review: The Baker's Wife (Menier Chocolate Factory)

Review by Sam Waite

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Characters in musicals can be difficult to relate to – most of us, I would think, don’t find ourselves compelled to break into song at our emotional apexes… although we might be so inclined if a band were playing just out of sight. However, I found it all too easy to relate to the people of Concorde, the isolated village at the heart of The Baker’s Wife, as I too constantly crave more bread than could possibly be good for me – not to mention my love for just the right amount of gossip. Never making it to Broadway despite a devoted fan following, Stephen Schwartz and Joseph Stein’s adaptation of 1938’s La Femme du Boulanger returns to its intimate, chamber-musical roots in a new production at the Menier Chocolate Factory.

An eccentric French village that’s managed to stay decades behind the modern times (the 1930s), Concorde has gone without bread for weeks after their previous baker’s untimely passing. So their new baker, Aimable, is welcomed with open arms – a kindly older man with particularly tasty confections and a genuinely good heart, the townsfolk seem to have hot the jackpot. Joining him, to the shock, envy and delight of the villagers, is Genevieve, his beautiful and much younger wife. While most of the residents are content to simply savour the delicious baked goods and gossip idly about the age difference behind the couple’s backs, the mayor’s driver – the roguish, handsome Dominique – opts to pursue this new beauty, leading to scandal, outrage, and a halt to the steady flow of bread.

The Menier run has no shortage of star power, with a cast whose experiences span TV, film, musicals, plays, and reality talent contests. Tasked with beginning the show in French before transitioning us smoothly into English, Josefina Gabrielle reminds us how well-versed in musical storytelling she is as café owner Denise, her steady-handed performance helping to humanise the mob of archetypes and cartoonish deviants who patronise her business. Also bringing seriousness to a purposely-silly ensemble is Finty Williams, carrying the role of hard-done-by, put-upon-but-ignored wife Hortense with genuine gravitas, making a real impact in one of the musical’s more serious subplots.

The sizeable cast, particularly for such an intimate staging, all acquit themselves well – the mayor and his trio of “Nieces” are solid sources of comedy, and an ongoing feud in which two prominent townsmen have refused to speak to each other for decades is good for a few strong laughs. Where issues begin to arise is director Gordon Greenberg’s choice to have the ensemble enter from all sides, and onto the balconies scattered around the edges of the auditorium. With some tickets sold as restricted view and others seemingly clear, it does become frustrating craning your head in all directions to see who is where and what others are finding so funny. Worse, when the actor currently speaking is directly behind you, and you’ve already bumped into your neighbour’s elbow a time too many to risk the turn.

Where the immersive touches do work, with the auditorium magically transformed into the village square, the events can be transcendent. When Lucie Jones, as the titular Genevieve, sings the score’s most famous piece, “Meadowlark”, her balcony is in view for a majority of the audience, and then moves forward to place her more centrally as the number reaches its soaring climax. The cast dashing in and out from all sides, and a collection of cabaret tables allowing top-price attendees to watch from the comfort of Denise’s café, do help to ground us in Concorde, helping the eccentricities and nonsensicalities to feel more authentic and true-to-life. This also allows for fairly seamless set changes, the business of their entrances helping to cover their wheeling in shop counters, home furnishings and the like.

Jones, as the much-younger wife, lends her marvellous voice to Schwartz’s songs, her “Meadowlark” a showstopper and her tender, yearning “Where is the Warmth?” a stunning example of acting through song without sacrificing vocal quality. A delightful, energised presence onstage, she isn’t given much in terms of weighty material, but shines in the brief moments where she is asked to dig deep and bring Genevieve’s inner conflicts to the surface. As her determined suitor, Joaquin Pedro Valdes returns to the Donmar after a striking performance in Stephen Sondheim’s Pacific Overtures, bringing the natural magnetism and rich vocals to the role of Dominique. The character is an unlikeable cad, giving Valdes little to work with in terms of range, but he is charming in his initial flirtations and utterly commanding when serenading his object of desire.

The lack of dynamic qualities to prominent characters is a problem with The Baker’s Wife itself rather than this production, but unfortunately the charms of the auditorium-cum-town-square and the undeniable skill of the cast don’t manage to cover these shortcomings. Stein’s book is light and fluffy, bringing plenty of comedy and boisterousness to the proceedings, but not focused enough for the deeper narratives to shine through. Despite the show’s insular, provincial setting, the reach is often too broad, attempting to show the entire populous and pushing the title character and the two men in her life into the background with little payoff to replace what we are missing. Paul Farnsworth’s gorgeous, immediately transporting set is a star in its own right, but also serves to remind us just how often we’re being pulled back to the square, to the café, and away from the love triangle that on paper ought to be at the centre.

Clive Rowe, perhaps unsurprisingly, proves perfectly matched to this kind of old-fashioned musical comedy, his Aimable being a clear highlight of the production. His malleable voice, moving from tender and soft to broader character fare, keeps his numbers exciting and dynamic, and his acting is top notch whether playing the buffoonish cuckold or the infuriated, actively-repressive spouse. Crucially, to lend the set-up some legitimacy, Rowe’s chemistry with Jones is delightful and genuinely affectionate – early number “Merci Madame” is a particular highlight, both of the score and of the pair’s well-matched performances. The interplay between Jones, Rowe, and Valdes is so interesting to watch that it’s only a shame we didn’t get more of it, with the trio largely in the backseat and unseen for much of the weaker second act.

With actors flitting in and out of the space and the audience firmly placed within the setting, its perhaps no wonder that Newsies choreographer Matt Cole handled the choreography for The Baker’s Wife. Scaled down drastically from that production, his knack with a quirky ensemble is still apparent, though not always as vividly – a moment of the ladies of the village climbing over chairs runs just a bit too long and does the same move a few times too many to have its intended impact when demure Hortense takes her turn. Both Greenberg and Cole handle the mass of bodies well enough, but in the Menier’s intimate space it can border on overwhelming or disruptive as opposed to the excitement of Newsies’ constant surprises. Where Paul Anderson’s soft, autumnal lighting serves to paint the scenic, quiet picture, the sheer magnitude of moving parts makes it hard to believe this village is as small as we’ve been told.

Delightful to look at and superbly cast, this revival of The Baker’s Wife stumbles over the existing problems with the text, particularly in the less focused second act, but is largely worth the journey for the genuinely riveting final scene between two of its leads, where difficult emotions are brought, at last, to the forefront. With a charming score, spellbinding design and the chance to hear a first-rate group of vocalists sing this oft-overlooked (“Meadowlark” notwithstanding) score by a modern master – Schwartz, of course, is still represented most prominently by the enduring, record-shattering Wicked – make this Baker’s Wife worth the taste-test, particularly for musical theatre fans with a sweet tooth and a discerning ear.

The Baker’s Wife plays at The Menier Chocolate Factory until September 14th

For tickets and information visit https://www.menierchocolatefactory.com/tickets/the-bakers-wife/

Photos by Tristram Kenton