Waitress: compelling, refreshing, peculiar
By Julie Brown-Micko

Pies are great vehicles for clichés, particularly when it comes to women and love. What better to bring us back to mama’s arms than a taste of her apple pie? And every woman who wants to be a wife must master cherry pie, according to Charming Billy. Wise, witty Adrienne Shelly plays with our desires for love (and pastry) and goes far beyond the expected in Waitress. Friendship, fear, sex and motherhood play out against a backdrop of mouthwatering, luminous, out-of-this-world pies.

Did I mention the pies? The opening credits feature long, loving looks at a sun-drenched kitchen and a pair of deft hands at work making pies. There are glistening cherries, crisp, streusel-sprinkled apple wedges, and smooth dark chocolate undulating into butter-yellow crusts. Those butter-softened, flour-coated hands belong to Jenna (Keri Russell), a young waitress in a small town who has big dreams of using her pie-baking skills as a means to escape her abusive husband, Earl (Jeremy Sisto). But when she finds herself pregnant, she worries she’ll never break free. To complicate matters, she finds herself attracted to her handsome obstetrician, Dr. Pomatter (Nathan Fillion). Thankfully, fellow waitresses Becky (Cheryl Hines) and Dawn (Adrienne Shelly) provide non-judgmental love and support in a grim situation.

Just like the baker who turns butter and flour into something wonderful, Adrienne Shelly blends disparate elements into an intriguing whole. Waitress combines traits of the Southern gothic, Hallmark movie-of-the-week, and black comedy. Clingy-but-controlling Earl veers from threatening to pitiable. Dr. Pomatter is kind, but also creepy: what kind of doctor allows himself to start a flirtation with a pregnant battered woman in his care? Jenna herself is both flinty and vulnerable, struggling to find a way out. Oddball characters deliver snappy dialogue with a biting, deadpan honesty. It’s a darkly funny look at a heartbreaking situation: spousal abuse, poverty, unplanned pregnancy and infidelity.

And still, there are Jenna’s creative, silly, wonderful pies. She names her creations according to her inspiration—and desperation. There’s “Bad Baby Pie,” “I Hate My Husband Pie,” and “Pregnant, Miserable, Self-Pityin’ Loser Pie” (which consists of lumpy oatmeal with fruitcake mashed in).

How will this tangle sort itself out? The ending is as sweet and satisfying as dessert itself.

One insightful character describes Jenna’s addictive chocolate-strawberry pie, as “dark and bittersweet, like an old love affair.” And that’s not a bad description of the peculiar, compelling, refreshing Waitress.