"Speed-the-Plow" is in the West End with Lindsay Lohan: Coolby Randi / November 8, 2014
Everyone knows the famous opening strings of this classic musical about debauchery and self-preservation during the start of World War Two: “Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome…im Cabaret, au Cabaret, to Cabaret!” Sung by the Emcee, the ringleader of the seedy Kit Kat Klub in Berlin, these words welcome you into a crazy, thrilling, frightening place and convince you of amazing theatre to come.
In the off chance that you don’t know these words, then you should go see the Broadway revival of Kander & Ebb’s “Cabaret” right now because it is spectacular. See it anyway. If you are old, your Emcee is probably the lovely and amazing Joel Grey, who originated the role on Broadway and in the movie. But if you are not-old-to-medium, your Emcee is the incredible and forever young Alan Cumming, who originated the role in the London and Broadway revivals in the 1990s. He is back, playing the same role, in pretty much the same exact physical condition. He has the blood of tigers running through his veins. The Emcee does not stop moving and grooving, making sure everyone who visits his Klub is having a ball, mainly by showing off the Kit Kat girls.
In the off chance that you don’t know these words, then you should go see the Broadway revival of Kander & Ebb’s “Cabaret” right now because it is spectacular. See it anyway. If you are old, your Emcee is probably the lovely and amazing Joel Grey, who originated the role on Broadway and in the movie. But if you are not-old-to-medium, your Emcee is the incredible and forever young Alan Cumming, who originated the role in the London and Broadway revivals in the 1990s. He is back, playing the same role, in pretty much the same exact physical condition. He has the blood of tigers running through his veins. The Emcee does not stop moving and grooving, making sure everyone who visits his Klub is having a ball, mainly by showing off the Kit Kat girls.
The favorite of all the girls, at least at the moment, is Sally Bowles, fresh off the boat from England and looking for something good in her life. She finds this in the form of Cliff, a nice American boy who wants to help Sally get her life back on track. What a poor confused man.
Sally Bowles stands as one of the few classic, coveted, and career-defining roles for women. In your 20s and 30s, you dream of the chance to play Sally, and then in 20-30 years, when one of your illegitimate children from your Kit Kat Club patrons grows up to be a stripper, you dream of the chance to play her overbearing mother (Mama Rose). These are the two big Hamlets for women.
Sally Bowles stands as one of the few classic, coveted, and career-defining roles for women. In your 20s and 30s, you dream of the chance to play Sally, and then in 20-30 years, when one of your illegitimate children from your Kit Kat Club patrons grows up to be a stripper, you dream of the chance to play her overbearing mother (Mama Rose). These are the two big Hamlets for women.
Michelle Williams – the blonde Oscar nominee, not the Destiny’s Child member – opened the current revival as Sally, in her Broadway debut. Her last performance was two days ago, and I feel sorry for you if you missed her. (Emma Stone takes over the role tonight. She is prob vomiting from nerves as we speak.) Michelle brought such vulnerability to the role that you could tell Sally was made of glass, with her façade of strength ready to shatter at any moment.
Michelle started the show a little harshly, with the dirty and hilarious song “Don’t Tell Mama”, but when that’s your introduction to the character, it’ll always be harsh and unnerving (especially because we’ve never seen Michelle like this before). It’s performed here with all the dancers/strippers in baby doll clothes and squeaky voices, so uber uncomfortable but that’s the point. We did this song as part of a cabaret (not Cabaret) in college and I had super fremdschamen for the girl singing it to the crowd of friends and family. The song is about how her other relatives are cool with where she’s working but begs you not to tell her mother. It’s a very efficient title.
After, in her first book scene, her Mayfair accent is crazy uncomfortable. It’s not pleasant to listen to like so many British accents, and it’s off-putting. But this choice makes sense for Sally. She is a jarring person and she is unstable. You see immediately that this girl is trying to find solid ground to stand on but is simultaneously frightened of staying still. Michelle evokes this inner push and pull with every word she says. You kind of hate her, you kind of feel bad for her, and most of all you just want her to take a deep breath.
But once she sings her best song, “Maybe This Time”, you realize what an incredible actress Michelle Williams really is. We are lucky she began her hopefully long career in live theatre with this show. As she prays and hopes through this heartbreaking song, you realize how badly she was snubbed for a Tony nomination.
But of course this is “Cabaret”, it’s World War Two Berlin; it’s not going to end well. Of course Sally never learns how to accept comfort or stability, or love. She throws away what we know she wants due to fear, maybe not of anything in particular but of everything. Yet you still feel relieved for Cliff, a wonderful Bill Heck. Sure you don’t want him to be heartbroken, but a) Sally is a freaking train wreck and b) you want him to hightail it the hell out of Berlin.
Also, Sally and Cliff do not have the most compelling relationship in the show. That honor belongs to Herr Schultz and Fraulein Schneider, played by the inimitable Danny Burstein and Linda Emond (both of whom should have won Tonys). Herr Schultz adorably woos the Fraulein with kindness and pineapples, and they adorably decide to marry and fill their older age with companionship. But, as one could see from space, Herr Schultz is a Jew, and the increasing strength and brutality of the Nazi party scares Schneider away, leaving Schultz broken-hearted but not broken in spirit. Even before we see his fruit shop vandalized, we know how things will end for him. And even though we want the two to be together, you can’t help feeling for Schneider as well, because there is no right decision for her in this situation.
Spoilers!! Seriously don’t read if you plan on seeing this show because I’m about to ruin the most effective piece of theatre.
The real emotional kicker, though, happens in the very last moment. The Emcee is doing his thing, wearing his trenchcoat and singing “Willkommen” just as in the beginning. His cheeky little striptease revealed his famous lederhosen + suspenders getup when he did this earlier. At the end, however, you get a shock. I actually gasped, as I forgot, or maybe never knew, this final moment of the show. For some reason, I expected the Emcee to be a Nazi, or at least to pretend to be, selling out to save himself and maybe his club. What I never expected ever to happen was in the final beats of “Willkommen” for the Emcee to pull off his trenchcoat to reveal the famous striped pajamas and gold star of Jews, of concentration camp victims. His arms go out, his body goes limp, and you see the silhouette of the backs of all the other characters upstage, and then blackout. This was the most riveting moment I have seen in theatre in a very long time, and this gut punch of an ending made the entire show an unbelievable emotional success. It also made me realize how important and necessary “Cabaret” is in the musical theatre canon. Current events especially across Europe are proving that old saying about learning history so we don’t repeat history to be scarily timely. And that’s the point of art, like “Cabaret”, to hold a mirror up to modern society and show you how much or how little progress it’s made.
Despite its unbelievably depressing themes and ending, this revival proves “Cabaret” as one of the greatest musicals ever written. It continuously reels you in until you can’t break away. When Sally gets to the title number at the end, you really feel every note in your non-tiger blood and somehow still have hope for everyone amid all your fear. If you can see this important show before Alan Cumming (and Danny Burstein, amazing) leaves, you owe it to yourself to do so. I hope Emma Stone captures even half the character of Sally that Michelle Williams did. If she can, you’re in for a treat.
Michelle started the show a little harshly, with the dirty and hilarious song “Don’t Tell Mama”, but when that’s your introduction to the character, it’ll always be harsh and unnerving (especially because we’ve never seen Michelle like this before). It’s performed here with all the dancers/strippers in baby doll clothes and squeaky voices, so uber uncomfortable but that’s the point. We did this song as part of a cabaret (not Cabaret) in college and I had super fremdschamen for the girl singing it to the crowd of friends and family. The song is about how her other relatives are cool with where she’s working but begs you not to tell her mother. It’s a very efficient title.
After, in her first book scene, her Mayfair accent is crazy uncomfortable. It’s not pleasant to listen to like so many British accents, and it’s off-putting. But this choice makes sense for Sally. She is a jarring person and she is unstable. You see immediately that this girl is trying to find solid ground to stand on but is simultaneously frightened of staying still. Michelle evokes this inner push and pull with every word she says. You kind of hate her, you kind of feel bad for her, and most of all you just want her to take a deep breath.
But once she sings her best song, “Maybe This Time”, you realize what an incredible actress Michelle Williams really is. We are lucky she began her hopefully long career in live theatre with this show. As she prays and hopes through this heartbreaking song, you realize how badly she was snubbed for a Tony nomination.
But of course this is “Cabaret”, it’s World War Two Berlin; it’s not going to end well. Of course Sally never learns how to accept comfort or stability, or love. She throws away what we know she wants due to fear, maybe not of anything in particular but of everything. Yet you still feel relieved for Cliff, a wonderful Bill Heck. Sure you don’t want him to be heartbroken, but a) Sally is a freaking train wreck and b) you want him to hightail it the hell out of Berlin.
Also, Sally and Cliff do not have the most compelling relationship in the show. That honor belongs to Herr Schultz and Fraulein Schneider, played by the inimitable Danny Burstein and Linda Emond (both of whom should have won Tonys). Herr Schultz adorably woos the Fraulein with kindness and pineapples, and they adorably decide to marry and fill their older age with companionship. But, as one could see from space, Herr Schultz is a Jew, and the increasing strength and brutality of the Nazi party scares Schneider away, leaving Schultz broken-hearted but not broken in spirit. Even before we see his fruit shop vandalized, we know how things will end for him. And even though we want the two to be together, you can’t help feeling for Schneider as well, because there is no right decision for her in this situation.
Spoilers!! Seriously don’t read if you plan on seeing this show because I’m about to ruin the most effective piece of theatre.
The real emotional kicker, though, happens in the very last moment. The Emcee is doing his thing, wearing his trenchcoat and singing “Willkommen” just as in the beginning. His cheeky little striptease revealed his famous lederhosen + suspenders getup when he did this earlier. At the end, however, you get a shock. I actually gasped, as I forgot, or maybe never knew, this final moment of the show. For some reason, I expected the Emcee to be a Nazi, or at least to pretend to be, selling out to save himself and maybe his club. What I never expected ever to happen was in the final beats of “Willkommen” for the Emcee to pull off his trenchcoat to reveal the famous striped pajamas and gold star of Jews, of concentration camp victims. His arms go out, his body goes limp, and you see the silhouette of the backs of all the other characters upstage, and then blackout. This was the most riveting moment I have seen in theatre in a very long time, and this gut punch of an ending made the entire show an unbelievable emotional success. It also made me realize how important and necessary “Cabaret” is in the musical theatre canon. Current events especially across Europe are proving that old saying about learning history so we don’t repeat history to be scarily timely. And that’s the point of art, like “Cabaret”, to hold a mirror up to modern society and show you how much or how little progress it’s made.
Despite its unbelievably depressing themes and ending, this revival proves “Cabaret” as one of the greatest musicals ever written. It continuously reels you in until you can’t break away. When Sally gets to the title number at the end, you really feel every note in your non-tiger blood and somehow still have hope for everyone amid all your fear. If you can see this important show before Alan Cumming (and Danny Burstein, amazing) leaves, you owe it to yourself to do so. I hope Emma Stone captures even half the character of Sally that Michelle Williams did. If she can, you’re in for a treat.
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Thoughts on: Buyer & Cellar, Off-Broadway
The Barrow Street Theatre’s production of Buyer & Cellar, starring the adorable and talented Michael Urie, honestly had me laughing harder than I did at The Book of Mormon (possibly (definitely) because I already had the BoM score memorized by the time I saw it so I knew all the jokes, but whatever). What a wonderful, low-key gem of a show, with a most impressive star.
I knew beforehand that the show was about a man working as the sole employee in Barbra Streisand’s basement mall, underneath her much-publicized Malibu mansion. Yes, that part is true – BS wrote a design book a few years back chronicling the building of her dream house, which does indeed have a shopping mall in the basement, holding all of BS’s memorabilia in various shoppes. (We know they are ‘shoppes’ and not ‘shops’ because Urie’s character adorably pronounces them ‘shopp-ees’ and jokes that one of the ‘shopp-ees’ is probably a purveyor of excess p’s and e’s.)
What I didn’t know was that this simple, cute concept could be taken to such entertaining heights in this pleasant little show.
I knew beforehand that the show was about a man working as the sole employee in Barbra Streisand’s basement mall, underneath her much-publicized Malibu mansion. Yes, that part is true – BS wrote a design book a few years back chronicling the building of her dream house, which does indeed have a shopping mall in the basement, holding all of BS’s memorabilia in various shoppes. (We know they are ‘shoppes’ and not ‘shops’ because Urie’s character adorably pronounces them ‘shopp-ees’ and jokes that one of the ‘shopp-ees’ is probably a purveyor of excess p’s and e’s.)
What I didn’t know was that this simple, cute concept could be taken to such entertaining heights in this pleasant little show.
Buyer & Cellar is the fictional tale of the employee tasked to work long days in this basement mall/shrine. The character, Alex, waits and waits for his one potential customer – of course, Babs herself – whose only potential purchases are, of course, her own possessions. This premise works because the most ridiculous aspect of the whole thing – that Barbra would have a private basement mall housing all of her memorabilia – is actually the true part! The rest kind of fills itself in naturally: If the mall already exists, why wouldn’t someone work down there? Why wouldn’t a woman who is enough of a character to build this thing and write a book about it also hire someone to treat her like any strange customer in any regular mall and try to sell her things?
Jonathan Tolins’ laugh-out-loud script could probably stand on its own with any number of talented actors in the one-man role, but Michael Urie clearly was born to knock it out of the park. As Alex More, Urie projects a sincere warmth and goodness through his often snarky reminiscences of his encounters with his diva employer. I liked Urie fine on Ugly Betty, recognizing his comedic talents as one must when you watch him, but I wasn’t a huge fan. (Maybe because he was so mean to Betty! And to that boyfriend I liked! The really nice but shlubby one! I loved him.) Aaanyway, that character might have colored my perception of Urie, but man alive if I don’t love him now.
In an endearing preface, Urie as himself discusses Barbra’s actual 2010 design book with the audience to familiarize us. The facts about the book are hilarious. Barbra’s writing, for instance, assumes that the reader knows that Winterthur, the inspiration for the basement mall, is a decorative arts and antiques museum in Delaware. Sure sure.
Urie also explains that he doesn’t do an impersonation of Barbra when he acts out her side of dialogue. However, the little aspects of Barbra’s demeanor that he does evoke are so effective that by the middle you are sold on this choice. The slumped shoulders, the seemingly endless and loose fingers, it works.
One-person shows require truly great writing and acting to succeed at all. Often the most telling test for a show that features encounters between various characters is when the audience forgets that all of these characters are only played by one person. Buyer & Cellar absolutely passes this test: Urie really made me feel the presence of several people up on that tiny stage. At times, I was seized with concern for Barbra, wanting to yell to her that Alex probably meant to say more or less or that she could eat as much froyo as she wanted. And then I’d realize, not only is this fiction, but there is no actress up there even playing Barbra. Equally compelling were Alex’s memories of encounters with his boyfriend Barry, who in the beginning was more excited about Alex’s job working for perhaps the greatest gay icon, but as time progressed turned quickly against Babs, partly from the jealousy of Alex’s developing a relationship that he could have no part of, partly from that omnipresent glee we plebeians derive from hating on celebrities whose privilege we mock with derision yet of course envy. (I think 80% of all internet comments exemplify the latter.) That Alex, Barry, Barbra, Babs’s chief of staff, James Brolin hilariously, and even a French bubble-blowing automaton named Fifi all seemed to share the stage equally and fully is a testament to Urie’s talents.
The audience, clearly full of Barbra fans, was completely won over. The show mocks Barbra while somehow remaining kindhearted. It vilifies her well-known insecurities as superficial interview fodder yet conveys her vulnerability. And still it remains a light, delicious, and hilarious hour and a half that I whole-heartedly recommend experiencing. The producers recently, wisely, decided to extend its limited run indefinitely. My only regret was not waiting afterward to get a pictures with Urie, but I feared in my newfound fangirl state I would start “shopping for throw pillows” on him as Barbra once did. You just must see it!
Jonathan Tolins’ laugh-out-loud script could probably stand on its own with any number of talented actors in the one-man role, but Michael Urie clearly was born to knock it out of the park. As Alex More, Urie projects a sincere warmth and goodness through his often snarky reminiscences of his encounters with his diva employer. I liked Urie fine on Ugly Betty, recognizing his comedic talents as one must when you watch him, but I wasn’t a huge fan. (Maybe because he was so mean to Betty! And to that boyfriend I liked! The really nice but shlubby one! I loved him.) Aaanyway, that character might have colored my perception of Urie, but man alive if I don’t love him now.
In an endearing preface, Urie as himself discusses Barbra’s actual 2010 design book with the audience to familiarize us. The facts about the book are hilarious. Barbra’s writing, for instance, assumes that the reader knows that Winterthur, the inspiration for the basement mall, is a decorative arts and antiques museum in Delaware. Sure sure.
Urie also explains that he doesn’t do an impersonation of Barbra when he acts out her side of dialogue. However, the little aspects of Barbra’s demeanor that he does evoke are so effective that by the middle you are sold on this choice. The slumped shoulders, the seemingly endless and loose fingers, it works.
One-person shows require truly great writing and acting to succeed at all. Often the most telling test for a show that features encounters between various characters is when the audience forgets that all of these characters are only played by one person. Buyer & Cellar absolutely passes this test: Urie really made me feel the presence of several people up on that tiny stage. At times, I was seized with concern for Barbra, wanting to yell to her that Alex probably meant to say more or less or that she could eat as much froyo as she wanted. And then I’d realize, not only is this fiction, but there is no actress up there even playing Barbra. Equally compelling were Alex’s memories of encounters with his boyfriend Barry, who in the beginning was more excited about Alex’s job working for perhaps the greatest gay icon, but as time progressed turned quickly against Babs, partly from the jealousy of Alex’s developing a relationship that he could have no part of, partly from that omnipresent glee we plebeians derive from hating on celebrities whose privilege we mock with derision yet of course envy. (I think 80% of all internet comments exemplify the latter.) That Alex, Barry, Barbra, Babs’s chief of staff, James Brolin hilariously, and even a French bubble-blowing automaton named Fifi all seemed to share the stage equally and fully is a testament to Urie’s talents.
The audience, clearly full of Barbra fans, was completely won over. The show mocks Barbra while somehow remaining kindhearted. It vilifies her well-known insecurities as superficial interview fodder yet conveys her vulnerability. And still it remains a light, delicious, and hilarious hour and a half that I whole-heartedly recommend experiencing. The producers recently, wisely, decided to extend its limited run indefinitely. My only regret was not waiting afterward to get a pictures with Urie, but I feared in my newfound fangirl state I would start “shopping for throw pillows” on him as Barbra once did. You just must see it!
Waitress Finally Hits London: So Good I Could Cry (Again)
It’s Theatre Thursday! Today’s show is Waitress, which opens today in London.
I feel like I’ve been bemoaning the sad state of musical theatre on the West End for years now. We’re getting too few new British works and too many lackluster disappointments. And while that’s all still true, Waitress has arrived, so I’m done complaining until the smile leaves my face, if that ever happens. Even though it’s an American transfer, this show is so FORKING wonderful that it is elevating the entirety of the West End. The Sara Bareilles musical, which opens officially today at the Adelphi Theatre, is exactly the show London needs right now: funny, heartbreaking, movingly acted, perfectly sung, and with an incredible score. It’s strange for me to give unqualified raves, but here I go, here I go, here I go again girls what’s my weakness? Um, musicals! pie? Dr. Pomatter?
Waitress, the first Broadway musical with an all-female creative team (it premiered in 2016 and that’s a true thing, so forked), opened the same season as Hamilton (and also the best musical revival season anyone could ever dream of I mean it omg each of the four nominees was the best thing ever le sigh and this year we don’t even have enough for a Tony award??? anyway) and so, while everyone enjoyed it, it didn’t get the acclaim or attention it deserved. Luckily, London’s musical theatre scene is, shall we say, not 2016 Broadway so fingers crossed that it gets the proper amount of love, because it’s a pretty goshdarn flawless show. Based on the 2007 Adrienne Shelly movie starring Keri Russell, Waitress the musical tells that story of how a small-town pie-making waitress in an abusive marriage gets pregnant and falls for her new ob/gyn. I remember the movie being pretty depressing but the show – though still rife with sad moments – is funnier and overall uplifting and heartwarming. With a sensational score from Sara Bareilles in her first musical theatre venture (and hopefully not last) and superb direction from Diane Paulus, the musical takes us intimately into the life of Jenna Hunterson and her friends. Her abusive husband, her inability to leave him, her feeling of not recognizing herself or knowing what to do, it all comes across realistically and believably while maintaining the entertaining, energetic thrill of classic musical theatre.
Even though I trust that you’ll see Waitress as soon as you can – whether on Broadway, in London, or on tour – I’ma tell you a little about it because it’s my new fave thing and I just simply can’t stop won’t stop talking about it (or singing it in the shower). So Jenna, as played by the remarkable Katharine McPhee, sings about her three favorite ingredients for pie baking – “sugar, butter, flour” – and making pies and how that helps her deal with her shirty life, working in a diner and having a shirty slob of a jerk husband who takes all the money she earns and is mean to her friends. And her friends, Dawn (Laura Baldwin, hilarious and adorable) and Becky (Marisha Wallace, the fire emoji), are wonderful so only a real jerk ass jackwagon would be mean to them. Jenna accidentally slept with her husband who she haaaates so Dawn and Becky are like ‘hey Jenna let’s all chill in the bathroom and watch you pee on a stick and we will SING ABOUT IT!!!’ and Jenna is like ‘ughhh I don’t wanna know if I’m pregnant I’d rather just ignore any alien growth and then in 9 months be like those people on the old show ‘I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant’ and be like ‘maaaa there’s a baby in the terlet!!!!’ so just let me be’ and they’re like ‘no we have fun lyrics about drinking enough to make sure you have to pee’ (and I’m like, do some people really not need to pee all the time?) so Jenna pees on the stick and is like SHIT and then sings the greatest song ever extolling the virtues of what baking can do as she hopes it can save her from her current messy sitch. Then she makes a great pie for her gynecologist who unknowingly retired and you’re like jfc how bad is the American healthcare system if when she called to make an appointment with Dr. Oldlady they didn’t tell her ‘oh she RETIRED’?? what a mess. Anyway her gyno is now this cute adorkable awkward lanky blond guy which is suuuupes awks in a gyno fyi anyway he doesn’t eat sugar and she’s like what kind of dork doesn’t eat sugar?? and he tries her pie (not a euph) and is like ‘OH DIP’ and she’s such a good baker that they fall in love and it’s AMAZING and SAD and she dreams of getting away from the jerky husband but he thwarts her plans and then she sings another BEST SONG EVER about what a mess her life is and McPhee is like ‘do you think you’ve heard anyone with better vocal control, because hear this, mufuckaaa’ and she should have awards thrown at her and you’re like TAYLOR HICKS, REALLY GUYS???
Meanwhile, the girls make our cute little Dawn try online dating because she is a sheltered lil bun who’s never dated and she matches on an app I’m assuming was Christian Mingle with a crazy guy in the form of JACK MCBRAYER, ladies and gentlemen, as Ogie and even though he sings a song that would be a giant red flag in real life about how he is virtually a stalker and even though Jack’s not the greatest singer and even though I wanted a friend of mine to get his part originally, Jack’s Ogie is REDONKULOUS AMAZING. His signature pure hearted dorky schtick is so perfect for Ogie and whoever thought to cast him deserves Olympic medals in casting. I honestly want to bake that person a pie. Jack makes every little movement and line of Ogie’s a laugh riot which is a phrase I don’t think I’ve ever used before but I need to use it now because it’s true and also dorky and pure enough of a phrase to fit this situation. The only thing I don’t get about this show is that Ogie gets the last named-character-bow when for male roles he really is second only to Dr. Pomatter and I don’t understand how he isn’t billed and bowed higher?? He gets more songs than almost anyone! Anyway it’s worth it to see him alone, yet everything else is just as great. Becky’s lil side story is amazingly moving too, as she’s in a difficult marriage for sad reasons and needs to get her groove back and does so with a SURPRISE man and she sings a fire emoji song about how ya know shit just happens sometimes and who are you to judge?? Her big song really was ugh so good. Even the old man diner owner gets amazing material that makes me cry, even though this actor wasn’t a great singer, because he gets my favorite poetic lyric at the end of his big song that just wrecks me and honestly everything in this show wrecks me so just forking see it so we can TALK ABOUT IT, okay?
The writing of this show, with a book from Jessie Nelson, is so strong that the show would be great still with just okay talent, so this stellar cast is lifting it to remarkable heights. Katharine McPhee’s Jenna is thoughtful and purposeful, finding the right line between vulnerability and inner strength. Fresh from the Broadway production, which was her first Broadway role, McPhee reminds you quickly of the douchebag director’s first words about her on “Smash”: “She may be green, but she’s certainly trained.” Her control over her voice is spell-binding, and her “She Used to be Mine” is the best vocal performance happening in London right now. David Hunter’s Pomatter is endearing and goofy yet also a believable leading man and a bit of a heartthrob. The scenes between the two of them feel like the end of the second season of a TV show when the two meant-for-each-other leads finally come to each other, and they accomplish that in less than an hour. It’s so important to get that emotional beat right, along with all the deeply personal revelations on display. Waitress is an unabashedly emotional show, the kind that could easily feel twee or seem amateur, but this show is anything but. The strong writing and the precisely directed performances keep it fresh and real. I fear that the old-white-male reviewers that make up London’s main critic pool will discount the female-centric story and emotional depth as cutesy or girly when really it’s surprisingly profound.
If nothing else, Bareilles has given us an extraordinary original score for the modern age, with nary a weak track in there, a rare accomplishment nowadays. With every other aspect of the show just as strong, with laugh out loud moments and truly wrenching emotion, the whole show is destined to be a favorite of many, if not a genuine classic.
INFORMATION
Waitress is playing at London’s Adelphi Theatre until at least the fall. They sell pie in the lobby and they pipe in freshly baked pie smell, which is lovely. They don’t have vegan pie though, which is b.s. The official merchandise stall in the lobby does not sell programmes – they are available from the podium by the entrance (so crowded, so dumb) and the pie man in the back. It’s a pretty terrible setup. The bathrooms are downstairs house right, so you have to like bolt out of the stalls to get all the way to the lobby and down. The staff left much to be desired. Also, during previews they had not yet set up barricades at stage door and it was a bonafide disaster of a mosh pit. According to my emails with the theatre, they’ve amended this situation, but I bet it is still a disaster. So the theatre staff and setup leaves much to be desired but the show is perfection.
