The Baker's Wife

Harker Jones READ TIME: 3 MIN.

"The Baker's Wife" is a charming musical about a small French town thrown into chaos when its grief-stricken baker stops making bread. With a book by Joseph Stein ("Fiddler on the Roof," "Zorba") and music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz ("Wicked," "Pippin," "Godspell") the show comes with a mouth-watering pedigree. Those men know their way around good and entertaining theater. And "The Baker's Wife" is both, though not up to the standards set by the creators' previous works.

We're introduced to the tiny French town by our narrator, Denise (Treva Tegtmeier), though why she's framing the story is unclear as she's hardly involved in any of the goings-on. She and the chorus (a schoolteacher who butts heads with the priest who butts heads with the libidinous mayor, setting up discord in the town) fill us in about the loss of their previous baker and their anticipation of the arrival of the new, because: BREAD. The townspeople need their bread!

Then when the new baker, Aimable (Greg Baldwin), shows up with a significantly younger wife, Genevieve (Chelle Denton), everyone is taken aback by the age difference. And Dominique (Nick Echols), one of the mayor's lackeys (think "Beauty and the Beast"'s Gaston come to life, with his chiseled jaw and arrogant smarminess), is so smitten with her, he convinces her to run away with him, causing ripples through the town that change the lives of its denizens.

It's a great set-up for a musical, and when the townspeople/chorus sing, they're on fire. It's as joyous as theater can be. The score is evocative in its simplicity, both catchy and melancholy, balancing the two deftly. The band (made up of a percussionist -- including a washboard! -- bassist, accordionist, pianist and flautist) is reminiscent of 1930s provincial France without being intrusive.

The set in the 99-seat theater is vibrant and interactive, easily providing the backdrop of the town square as well as the bakery. The costumes are detailed and vibrant, the energetic choreography makes fantastic use of the space, and director Richard Israel gets lively, emotive performances from several of the supporting characters: in particular, the mayor (Stephen Maikish), who is wanton without being sleazy; Antoine (Brandon Parrish), the town goob, who's comic relief without being a one-note bumbler; and the butcher's wife, Hortense (Tracey Bunka), who's both sympathetic and appealing, her face and talent rising above the colorless life her character is living.

There are just some pivotal problems, the biggest being that, while Genevieve, the titular baker's wife, is the impetus for a sea change in the town's citizens, she's a flat character. When she's introduced, the last character to be so, she comes in like a mouse. With the central conceit being that Genevieve is so irresistible that the town stud, Dominique, falls immediately head over heels for her, the fact that she's got the presence of a ghost means it doesn't ring true. There's no understanding why he's so smitten. She's dishwater.

Denton can sing, there's no denying that, and it's hard to tell if it's the actress or just the way the role is written, but considering she's the character on which the entire plot revolves, she's not magnetic enough to make us think the world of this town would get caught up in her orbit. Even when she comes back seeking forgiveness, she's like a blank, hardly offering a glimmer of emotion. She's gone for half the second act, and she's not missed.

The baker himself, Aimable, is also quite passive. When Genevieve runs off with Dominique, he just drinks himself into a stupor while the townsmen go off in search of her: if the baker's not happy, the baker won't bake and they'll have no bread! Because of this it's hard to really understand who the protagonist is. Yes, it's an ensemble but there needs to be one through whose eyes we see the story unfolding.

Additionally, sadly enough considering the abundant talent on display when they get to perform as part of the chorus, the supporting females are relegated to almost nothing, while the supporting men have much splashier characters. For example, while the men are out looking for the two lovers, the women sit around unsure what to do without the men.

All that said, there is something cumulatively moving by the end. And with the townspeople being such an energetic joy, you kinda wanna come back just to spend time with them. Even if it's without the baker and his wife: who needs bread if you have wine?

"The Baker's Wife" runs through October 25 at the Actors Co-op David Schall Theatre, 1760 N. Gower Street in Hollywood. For information or tickets, call 323-462-8460 or visit www.actorsco-op.org.


by Harker Jones

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