The Off-Broadway Theatre Review: The Baker’s Wife
By Ross
It all begins before the lights officially dim, with the theatre itself becoming a sun-drenched French serenade. The village plaza wakes up to a new day, where the small world slows to drink espresso at quaint café tables, backed by flowering ivy that climbs toward narrow wrought-iron balconies. Time seems inclined to slow down here at The Baker’s Wife at Classic Stage Company, as an accordion player draws us from the moment we arrive, sparkling the musical air with clear notes of casual happiness and sunny daydreams. Cast members casually play a game of lawn bowling with one another and with patrons alike. It all feels so effortless and charming, and when the accordion gives way to a handsome young guitarist (Mason Olshavsky), a newspaper page is turned to reveal a new tale.
And so we begin. Judy Kuhn (CSC’s Assassins) enters as Denise, the village waitress, greeting us with a French song that slowly transitions and blooms into English. We are all made welcome in this small, isolated community where births, deaths, and marriages are shared responsibilities, embraced and cared for as only a small town can, rendered with warmth and intelligence by an ensemble, particularly the women, who locate dignity, humor, and self-knowledge even within the village’s most prescribed roles. This day, however, is a special one. The village waits for something else, a new baker is coming to replace the old one who suddenly died. And without bread, they insist, life simply cannot continue.
That anticipation animates a vivid and generous ensemble, each character etched with
humour, affection, and conviction. The town’s teacher brings witty intelligence and clarity to every debate, thanks to a fine performance by Arnie Burton (Keen Company’s Lonely Planet). While Nathan Lee Graham’s Marquis, the mayor, presides with flamboyant authority and delicious comic precision, aided by three ‘nieces’ who may—or may not—be his own. The villagers come together as always, bickering constantly about morals, logic, passion, and propriety, each certain of their own correctness. Yet all divisions dissolve when Aimable Castagnet, beautifully played by Scott Bakula (“Quantum Leap”), finally arrives, accompanied by his much younger and strikingly gorgeous wife, Geneviève, lovingly portrayed by Ariana DeBose (Spielberg’s West Side Story). Their delight only deepens the following morning when the baker’s bread proves as extraordinary as his wife, warm, fragrant, and perhaps the best the village has ever known.
All feels right in the world, or at least in this small French village, but that harmony fractures soon enough, with the seductive arrival of Dominique, the mayor’s handsome assistant and driver. Kevin William Paul (Broadway’s The Outsiders) powerfully plays him with a confidence that quickly hardens into something akin to a ‘Gaston‘ arrogance. He becomes consumed by this particular beauty, The Baker’s Wife, Geneviève, and decides that wanting her is reason enough to pursue her, regardless of the consequences. His courtship escalates inside the bakery and through the night with serenades, aided by Olshavsky’s guitar playing, Phillipe, which feel almost obnoxious, especially with the calculated deceptions aimed at the gentle, kind, trusting baker. When Geneviève finally gives in (a bit too easily, I might add), the desirous
elopement is momentarily intoxicating, but surprisingly brief, followed almost immediately by the painful realization that charm without substance leaves only emptiness behind. Desire, mistaken for love, proves destructive rather than liberating.
The emotional core of the production reveals itself fully back in the village, once Aimable finally understands that he has been abandoned by the love of his life. Bakula charts the baker’s unraveling with remarkable precision as grief and drink overtake him, robbing him not only of his wife but of his ability to make bread at all. His face tenderly communicates devastation before the songs ever do. Around him, the village gathers in collective sorrow, and eventually, they want to help, to find a solution, so that bread might be baked in Aimable’s ovens once again. But it’s forgiveness that is the next step, for the townsfolk, and for the baker’s wife and the baker. DeBose gives Geneviève a quiet complexity, balancing sensuality with regret and allowing the character’s journey to unfold without judgment or simplification. It’s not an easy road to travel, but DeBose manages those emotional roads like a pro, finding and delivering authentic reconnection when it feels almost impossible.
Under the generous direction of Gordon Greenberg (Broadway’s The Heart of Rock & Roll) and Stephanie Klemons’s graceful choreography, The Baker’s Wife feels as nourishing and lovely as the scent of fresh bread rising from an oven. Stephen Schwartz’s music and lyrics glow under Charlie Alterman’s attentive music direction, while Jason Sherwood’s set, Catherine Zuber’s costumes, and Jason Crystal’s sound design wrap the production in warmth and texture. The lighting by Bradley King (Broadway’s Hadestown) feels sun-kissed, the voices land with sincerity, and the entire experience understands the pleasures of patience and craft. It is nearly impossible to leave this village, or this bakery, without feeling quietly overjoyed by its simple and deeply satisfying beauty. It fills us with the exact right amount of each ingredient, fully satiated with music and love.
