Now that Stephen Schwartz’s latest opus is out of the way—The Queen of Versailles opened Sunday night, to a decidedly mixed reaction—here comes a new production of his half-century-old flop, The Baker’s Wife. Consider the latter without the undertow of its notoriety (as delineated below). What we find at Classic Stage Company is a charming, small-scale affair perfectly suited to chamber-musical size, given a radiant sheen by a team of over-qualified performers who compensate for the patchy material. Considered without all its history, though—and without the ticket-selling potential given the involvement of the composer of Wicked (in league, incidentally, with the bookwriter of Fiddler on the Roof)—it is unlikely that anyone would bother to resuscitate the underbaked Baker’s Wife.
Before turning to specifics, let us say that the current production—creatively staged in a manner that more or less incorporates the 200-odd playgoers into a rural French village in Provence—is worth a visit to the Union Square playhouse where it runs through December 21 (with limited seats remaining). Enjoyably entertaining, yes, but hardly revelatory.
The story goes back almost a century, to the 1932 novel Jean le Bleu by Jean Giono. Celebrated playwright/filmmaker Marcel Pagnol filmed it as La Femme du Boulanger in 1938, adapting his screenplay from “an incident” in Giono’s novel. The movie, starring French comedian Raimu, was radiantly received and remains something of a classic. A Broadway version, The Wife of the Pastry Chef, was announced in 1940, with S.N. Behrman adapting the Giono-Pagnol original. That never happened. A Broadway musical—from the Guys & Dolls team of Feuer & Martin (producers), Frank Loesser (songs) and Abe Burrows (book and direction)—was announced in 1952, to star Bert Lahr. That never happened. Other stage versions, to star Jackie Gleason (on the one hand) and Zero Mostel (on the other), were also floated. Those never happened. As might be surmised, a Broadway version of La Femme du Boulanger was an intriguing idea, but stubbornly difficult to translate.
[Read Bob Verini’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
In 1975, producer David Merrick signed Stephen Schwartz (who had three hit musicals on Broadway at the time, Godspell, Pippin, and The Magic Show) and Fiddler’s Joseph Stein to take another stab at The Baker’s Wife. Over the course of a tumultuous six-month tryout, the show went through two leading men, two leading ladies, two directors, two choreographers, two orchestrators, two conductors and why go on? From Schwartz: “Early in the run I compromised on Baker’s Wife. Everyone was screaming and I think I damaged the score. But then in Boston the show started to come together.” Started to come together? Or fell further apart?
(This reviewer happened to see the final two Boston performances, starring the actor Topol, of the London and cinematic Fiddler on the Roof, as well as the final two Washington performances four weeks later, starring Paul Sorvino. No improvement was discernable. The show closed in Washington, cancelling the scheduled November 21, 1976, opening at the Martin Beck.)
The trouble with the musical Baker’s Wife—back then, and also now—is that the material is written in two non-complementary styles. The central plot is that of a middle-aged baker, Aimable (Scott Bakula); his new-and-pretty young wife, Genevieve (Ariana DeBose); and a rakish young chauffeur, Dominique (Kevin William Paul). Yes, you already know what happens. The accompanying material centers on the assorted generic townspeople, scandalized not so much by the affair but by the fact that the cuckolded baker turns morose and refuses to bake their daily bread.
Schwartz’s songs for the triangular romancers are by and large OK, in the 1970s pop-Broadway style he pioneered (notably in Pippin). Most effective of these are “Gifts of Love,” “Where Is the Warmth?” and “Meadowlark” (which has enjoyed a certain popularity on the cabaret circuit). Much of the rest, though, falls in the generic happy villager mold, like the big production number about “Bread.” (Schwartz, whose lyrics over the years have sometimes been extreme, rhymes “luscious” with “brioche is,” and provides that memorable line “I’ll kiss the hand which hands me a sandwich.”) There’s also a salute to “The Luckiest Man in the World,” lucky because his wife has gone and “your time will stay free and your purse will stay fat, how could you be any luckier than that” set to a generic Frenchified tune.
The best song in the show falls in neither category. It is a liltingly Gallic chanson called—well—“Chanson.” This opens the show in grand fashion and returns again and again and again, which might cause complaint except for the fact that the singer—the estimable Judy Kuhn—lights up the stage and the show every time she steps out of the ensemble of townspeople and into the spotlight.
The leading players are the Baker and the Baker’s Wife; this, 11 years before that more successful musical featuring characters named the Baker and the Baker’s Wife, Into the Woods. Bakula, who has a long history on stage, screen and elsewhere, brings just the right touch to Aimable. Likable, ingratiating, wearily worn by middle age and self-doubt. (Bakula, in my estimation, far surpasses his predecessors. Topol had the requisite continental charm, but wasn’t especially likable—or maybe he was just fed up, being saddled in a flop. Sorvino, on the other hand, was very much in earnest but dull and colorless.) DeBose, who has an impressive stage resume along with an Oscar for her performance as Anita in the Spielberg West Side Story, does quite well and shines in her singing, although I miss the earthiness of the original Genevieve. The young Patti LuPone’s performance was driven by an uncontrollably lustful desire for the handsome young chauffeur, whereas DeBose’s Genevieve seems to simply be agreeable to the tryst.
Paul, as Dominique, fills the part’s demands well; if I’m not mistaken, his role (and effectiveness) are diminished by the deletion of what had been one of his major songs, “Endless Delights.” The actors playing the villagers, meanwhile, help the show enormously. Kuhn, first and foremost, as the innkeeper’s wife, joined by the likes of Robert Cuccioli, Arnie Burton, Sally Murphy, Manu Narayan, Kevin del Agula, Alma Cuervo, Nathan Lee Graham, and Will Roland. Each of whom, on their own, has provided sparks (and in some cases filled starring roles) in various Broadway musicals.
Gordon Greenberg has directed with a sure hand, understandably so as this is at least his third stint with the musical. (These include a 2005 production at the Paper Mill Playhouse in New Jersey and the 2024 staging at London’s Menier Chocolate Factory). The CSC physical production enhances the work, courtesy of Jason Sherwood (scenery), Catherine Zuber (costumes), and Bradley King (lighting). Charlie Alterman and his nine-piece orchestra do a lovely job, with a harp—yes, a real live harp—adding luster to the score. David Cullen’s orchestrations are presumably those prepared for Trevor Nunn’s 1989 West End production (which folded within two months), here supplemented by additional arrangements from Alterman. And oh, how that harp fills the small theater!
All of which is to say that the CSC Baker’s Wife is a charmingly satisfactory rendition of a not-quite satisfactory Broadway musical that has understandably never made it to Broadway.
The Baker’s Wife opened November 11, 2025, at the Classic Stage Company and runs through December 21. Tickets and information: classicstage.org
