Director: Nicola Diggins
Musical Director: Andrew Wheeler
Producer: Cathal Prendergast
A charming tale of love and bread in a provincial French village, The Baker’s Wife never reached Broadway, but received favorable reviews and developed a cult following. The story opens with Denise, the cafe owner’s wife, welcoming the audience to their little town where nothing changes, and explaining that they are awaiting the arrival of their new baker. When middle-aged Aimable Castagenet appears, he is treated as a celebrity – and when his young wife Genevieve arrives, she is greeted with wonder, fascination, and a little bit of scorn. The village is curious about how an older man could win such a young woman, and Genevieve herself reveals her own doubts about her life with Aimable. When the Mayor Marquis’ playboy driver, Dominique, flirts with Genevieve and lures her away, Aimable is undone and unable to bake. The village rallies together to find the baker’s wife and bring her home – but is it too late? A sweet little tale from the composer of Pippin, Wicked, and Godspell, The Baker’s Wife is most famous for its music, including “Meadowlark” and “Chanson,” and provides an opportunity for a female voice to soar.
Review: (Basil Abbott)
French sticks being the acceptable face of white bread, this musical starts at an advantage.
Based on a 1938 French film, it features the young, errant wife, a figure familiar from Guinevere to Mme. Bovary.
The play’s durability is surprising, coming from the Ivor Novello era. The French certainly had more to think about the following year.
It is small biere but shows how passion and bread can disrupt the life of a paint-drying village.
When the company sings of those two preoccupations, under Nicola Diggins’ and Andrew Wheeler’s direction, they make waves.
Characters come to life in song – Sean Lilley-Springett as the baker, Holly Brice as the wife and Matthew Corry as the lover.
Sean’s characterisation expands as his life turns grim. Holly sings with a strident, touching angst of her mixed feelings.
Matthew’s love song comes over like a big number from Les Mis, a true troubadour.
Karen Stephenson, as ever, acts and sings her socks off as the café owner’s wife.
Cathal Prendergast contributes a lively priest, from somewhere in the west of Ireland.
A committed cast, a good band and a clever, Gallic set all add to another heart-warming evening from Palgrave Players.