The jubilant musical Waitress begins with the main character baking a pie. When she lifts her flour-covered hand to her lips and puffs, the cloud wafts like magic, strong enough to make a wish come true for every character in Northern Stage‘s sprightly production. The theme is women’s empowerment, lovingly nestled in the everyday life of a diner.
Composer and lyricist Sara Bareilles brought her pop music skills to the demands of musical storytelling and created a sonic weave of striving small-town folks. The Broadway musical was based on a 2007 film by Adrienne Shelly, which Jessie Nelson adapted into the musical’s book. Waitress had a successful run from 2016 to 2020 behind Broadway’s first all-women production team.
The songs have a faint country overtone, and this cast wanders close to vaguely down-home drawls, but the setting feels universal. Though the road is rocky, viewers will never doubt that a happy ending lies ahead, thanks to the production’s invigorating tempo.
The characters may not be deep, but they want the things we love to watch people want.
Jenna is a seasoned waitress who also bakes a dozen pies a day for her diner employer. That kind of workload would crush a mortal, but in a musical it expresses the energy of a woman ready to overcome an obstacle. Jenna and her coworkers, shy Dawn and feisty Becky, produce lush harmonies and serve a host of customers, juggling ketchup bottles and weathering short-order cook Cal’s get-back-to-work treatment. Jenna’s peppy life has only one flaw, but it’s a big one.
Her husband, Earl, is a lazy lout who filches her tips the instant she gets home from a hard day at work. He’s menacing and manipulative enough to pretend he’s done nothing wrong. Jenna has been building up to proposing a divorce, but when she discovers she’s pregnant, she feels more trapped than ever.
A waitress dreaming of escaping her abusive husband is a plot for a dark indie film, but if you slide the guy’s dangerous behavior mostly offstage, the story fits a musical. Not that Waitress pulls every punch. Making Earl normal enough to be anyone’s husband is a good way to clarify that physical and mental harm don’t always manifest as black eyes and obvious misery.
This is a musical, though, and Jenna’s problem is really only a launching pad. A six-piece band, weighted toward guitar and keyboards, hits every note of triumph and striving, and Bareilles is good for witty lyrics and lovely tunes. The story gets going when sparks fly between Jenna and her gynecologist, Jim. They’re both married, and they’re both torn, but the escalating number “Bad Idea” demands that they give in.
A similar bit of musical propulsion drives Dawn to accept oddball Ogie’s courtship. The tune is cutesy twang, but the choreography and physical performance stun viewers into laughter and Dawn into commitment. Jenna’s self-actualization song, “She Used to Be Mine,” is lyrically a bit too intricate for its idea but melodically rapturous.
Scene changes are part of the fantasy. The story sweeps from location to location as the ensemble, infused with rhythm, rolls set pieces into place in two bars or less. The presto chango of unveiling new spaces is equivalent to making a pie from scratch.
Waitress is full of messy choices — extramarital affairs, devotion bordering on stalking, secret trysts. Rather than a moral compass, the characters steer by whatever brings them closer to accepting themselves, which is a great way to get an audience rooting for someone. And humor fills this diner like coffee fills the customers’ cups.
With Ashleigh King’s spirited choreography, director Carol Dunne pilots a strong cast, buoyed by music. Dunne shapes the interactions, letting comic connections express relationships and never losing the warmth of the story.
Brianna Kothari Barnes brings a fine voice and ideal comic timing to Jenna. The character is engineered for likability, but Barnes supplies a radiance that reaches to the back of the house. Caitlin Kinnunen, as Dawn, and Rae Agwé, as Becky, give punch to waitresses with quirky dreams.
Michael Evan Williams plays Jim as a lover overwhelmed by his feelings yet comically hoping to master them. The good doctor melts with delight at Jenna’s pies, so the love affair is conducted via the metaphor of irresistible sweets.
As Earl, Thom Miller has the difficult job of being a villain who crushes Jenna’s hopes but hasn’t yet driven her to escape him. Miller reveals the menace with his physical bearing while holding back enough to avoid confrontation. Jacob Tischler plays Dawn’s suitor Ogie, a scene-stealing role if there ever was one. Tischler goes beyond riotous physical stunts to give the character undeniable joy.
As Joe, the diner’s owner, Mike Backman speaks and moves with precision, giving his character time to bloom. Adam Huel Potter bestows a proper heart of gold on Cal the cook. A versatile ensemble of six fills the diner with interesting, changing types.
Set designer Jordan Janota delivers a golden-age eatery with red stools, a sweeping counter and booths to lounge in. LED light bars mimic neon, and a mighty outdoor DINER sign is a plain statement of the warmth that lies within. Costume designer Lexi Spanier serves up sharp waitress outfits that mix nostalgia with sporty lines, just right for dancing, slicing pie or daring to dream.
The characters may not be deep, but they want the things we love to watch people want. Bold movement, uplifting songs and lots of humor make their quests easy to cheer for. Several big numbers use the simple chores of baking or waiting tables as frames for dance, elevating work to art.
Thursday’s sold-out preview audience seemed giddy to applaud the show’s towering songs and superbly synchronized motion. Waitress follows a familiar formula, but the recipe is just plain delicious.
The original print version of this article was headlined “Sugar High | Theater review: Waitress, Northern Stage”
This article appears in Mar 19-25, 2025.
Got something to say?
Send a letter to the editor and we'll publish your feedback in print!
