By Richard Ades
The transition from the screen to the stage is a tricky one. There have been a few triumphs, but the results are more often disappointing.
The latest film adaptation is The Band’s Visit, a musical that recently moved to Broadway after a successful off-Broadway run. Tony Shalhoub (TV’s Monk) and Katrina Lenk lead a uniformly strong cast, and David Cromer’s sensitive direction captures the cross-cultural discomfort that develops when an Egyptian police band unexpectedly shows up in a remote Israeli village. On top of that, David Yazbek’s music and lyrics are delightful.
Despite the musical’s strengths, I left the Ethel Barrymore Theatre feeling less satisfied than I was after seeing the 2007 Israeli movie on which it’s based. The stage production attempts to create dramatic arcs by playing up several elements of the story, especially the flirtation that Lenk’s restaurant owner directs toward Shalhoub’s uptight band director. It does this at the expense of the little interactions that, in the film, mark the Israelis and the Egyptians as fellow travelers on the sad, lonely journey known as life. The stage show is good, but it lacks its predecessor’s understated charm.
Would I have liked the show more if I hadn’t seen the film? Possibly. So maybe it’s good that I didn’t catch another 2007 movie, Waitress, before seeing its musical adaptation this week at the Ohio Theatre. The late Adrienne Shelly’s flick has been faulted for diluting a story of female empowerment with broad humor, and the stage production likely broadens the humor even more.
The heroine is Jenna (the relatable Desi Oakley), a small-town waitress married to a control freak named Earl (the effectively hateful Nick Bailey). Jenna is desperate to escape from her loveless marriage, but her hopes are dashed when she learns she’s pregnant.
Ironically, her pregnancy leads her to Dr. Pomatter (Bryan Fenkart), a gynecologist who instantly falls for both her and the stellar pies she concocts for the restaurant. Taken off guard by the unfamiliar experience of being appreciated for who she is, Jenna begins an affair with the kind, though married, doctor. Meanwhile, she sets her sights on a pie-making contest whose prize money could bankroll a new life for her and her future child.
As long as the focus stays on Jenna and her miserable situation, Waitress serves as a sobering look at the serious issue of spousal abuse. However, book writer Jessie Nelson and director Diane Paulus seem determined to keep the crowds pleased by devoting much of the show’s time and energy to broad comedy populated by familiar stereotypes.
Jenna’s fellow waitresses are Becky (Charity Angel Dawson) and Dawn (Lenne Klingaman). The former is sassy (i.e., she’s black), and the latter is shy and nerdy (i.e., she wears glasses). In subplots that largely overshadow the main plot, Becky launches into an affair of her own, while Dawn attempts to end her social isolation by running a personal ad. This attracts the attention of Ogie, an oddball exuberantly played by Jeremy Morse with overtones of Paul Lynde and Henry Gibson, the poet from TV’s Laugh-In. Ogie’s comic solo number, Never Ever Getting Rid of Me, becomes the closest thing the musical has to a show stopper.
Roaming even further from Jenna’s homefront predicament, the proceedings nearly turn into a sex farce when all three waitresses and their respective beaus simultaneously engage in onstage canoodling. Diner manager Cal (Ryan G. Dunkin) and elderly owner Joe (Larry Marshall) also contribute to the show’s sexual preoccupation, though the latter does so only by sharing his erotic memories.
The mood finally turns sober again just in time for Jenna’s biggest and saddest solo, She Used to Be Mine, sung with the kind of strong and committed voice Oakley brings to all of her songs. In fact, composer/lyricist Sara Bareilles’s tunes are well served by the entire cast and by conductor/pianist Jenny Cartney and her onstage band. But none of this makes up for the fact that the pop/country melodies are mostly forgettable and the lyrics seldom rise to the level of deep poetry.
Despite its inconsistencies and weaknesses, Waitress remains on Broadway after a year and a half, suggesting that it satisfies patrons’ theatrical taste buds. And it did seem to make many people happy at the Ohio on Tuesday, despite a technical snafu that delayed the show long enough to turn it into a 3½-hour ordeal.
So if the idea of spicing up a serious social issue with broad comedy doesn’t give you acid reflux, you, too, may find Waitress to your liking.
Broadway in Columbus and CAPA will present Waitress through Sunday (Nov. 12) at the Ohio Theatre, 39 E. State St., Columbus. Show times are 7:30 p.m. through Thursday, 8 p.m. Friday, 2 and 8 p.m. Saturday, 1 and 6:30 p.m. Sunday. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes (including intermission). Tickets are $34-$115. 614-469-0939, 1-800-745-3000, columbus.broadway.com, capa.com or ticketmaster.com.