Did you know that the first choice for the title role in the 1936 French classic, The Baker’s Wife, was a 28-year-old Joan Crawford? C’est vrai! To writer-director Marcel Pagnol, she was ideal to portray an aging village baker’s restless, discontent young bride, whose own oven fires are kindled by the hunky local Lothario who carries her off. Crawford demurred, claiming she had no French, despite Pagnol’s assurances that the character would be asked to speak no more than 50 words in all.
Well, a musical Baker’s Wife cannot be silent for 2½ hours, especially when she’s supplied with Stephen Schwartz songs on the order of the evergreen “Meadowlark,” anguished allegory of a woman’s betrayal. The part needs a triple threat, actor-singer-dancer, and gets it at Classic Stage Company in the person of Ariana DeBose, electric at every entrance. The allure Crawford would have brought to Pagnol’s universe – the allure Ginette Leclerc did end up bringing – is undeniable in this new Hollywood star. Moreover, the passion that helped her win an Oscar for West Side Story is joined by a plaintive vulnerability that makes for a most complex character, at war with herself at all times.
DeBose’s mercurial unpredictability is well complemented by sturdy Scott Bakula as the cuckolded boulanger. Fondly remembered as the debonair lover of Romance/Romance, the thesp has grown into a leading man of gravitas and gentility. It can’t be easy to step into the shoes of the sainted Raimu (“the greatest actor alive” according to Orson Welles, who should know), but Bakula understands the joy of an older man who can’t believe his luck, and the trepidation of a world-weary veteran who knows that in this life, one’s luck never lasts.
[Read Steven Suskin’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
DeBose and Bakula’s welcome return to the theater isn’t the only big news down on 13th St, where the ensemble deserves the much-overused adjective “all-star.” I don’t think I’ve seen so many seasoned pros and award winners together on one stage this side of a Tony Awards audience or Equity benefit. A good thing too, for beyond the romantic triangle, this is the tale of a community ironically named “Concorde,” where petty provincials are ruled by spite until the new baker and his pretty wife arrive to create an uproar. Strong personalities are needed, top to bottom.
There goes Kevin William Paul of The Outsiders, dashing enough to sweep Genevieve off her feet and callow enough to leave her flat. Here comes Nathan Lee Graham of The Wild Party as the suave village mayor, who wild-parties nightly with his three delectable “nieces” under the nose of the local curé and Dear Evan Hansen’s original Jared, hilarious Will Roland. Across the square, a pair with impeccable comic timing are butting heads: schoolmaster Arnie Burton, his exquisite physical control recalled from The 39 Steps, vs. Kevin Del Aguila applying Some Like It Hot bursts of brio to the exuberant town drunk, as Alma Cuervo (On Your Feet!) looks on disapprovingly. And now I spy Robert Cuccioli, channeling his Jekyll & Hyde strength into a misogynist café owner, no match for the steely defiance of put-upon wife Judy Kuhn, whose Les Mis turns as Cosette and Fantine have taught her plenty about holding her own during a French revolution.
One could attend this production multiple times, focusing on different actors as in an immersive follow-your-own adventure, and find new things to enjoy each visit. All of which, I guess, can be laid at the feet of director Gordon Greenberg, for whom the rehabilitation of this musical stepchild seems to have been something of a lifelong mission. Pagnol was primarily interested in dissecting the overall social politics of a village in Provence, but Greenberg has massaged Joseph Stein’s libretto (with the aid, if my ears don’t deceive me, of Schwartz tweaking some lyrics) to emphasize two-by-two relationships: husband/wife, religious zealot/freethinker, roué/virgin. Greenberg’s clear, thoughtful staging allows us to follow each developing subplot as if in an Altman movie: There’s texture and complexity here.
Things end happily as musicals will, with Concorde re-established and audience members invited to waltz with the cast, spare but lovely choreography courtesy Stephanie Klemons. But keep an eye on Manu Narayan (Bombay Dreams) as Barnaby the butcher, with Sally Murphy (The Grapes of Wrath) as wife Hortense. The vest-pocket dimensions of CSC contain multitudes, and most but not all can be counted upon to heal.
