The Grand Theatre in London, Ontario never fails to impress. While I’d love to see them use their secondary stage a bit more to really challenge their audiences with intimate counter-programming, their mainstage blockbusters at the beautiful Spriet theatre reflect diversity of tone and style within the “must sell well” demands of maintaining such a massive space and the quality of their execution is, seemingly without fail, top notch. Their current production of Sarah Bareilles’ musical adaptation of Waitress is perhaps the best I’ve seen from them to date.

Recently released for regional production, Waitress features in a lot of seasons across Canada this year (this one is a co-pro with Hamilton’s Theatre Aquarius). I haven’t generally been a huge fan of the musical with its vague, pop-y songwriting and deus ex machina ending but the cast of The Grand’s current version talked me into it with skilled, sincere performances while director Rachel Peake’s generally bright and airy work doesn’t shut the door completely on the darker aspects of the storytelling that I think are the show’s actual greatest strength. (It’s probably also not a non-factor that the story hits different when you’re seven months pregnant so bear with me through my emotional response).

Julia McLellan is a strong and savvy Jenna who affectingly only fully comes into those qualities towards the end of the show. Her memorable take on breakout number “She Used to Be Mine” displays remarkable restraint and dynamic control as she beautifully deploys her breath to convey mixed, complex emotion rather than simply powering her way through the showy belter. Her dynamism is held terrifyingly at bay throughout much of the story by Lawrence Libor as domineering husband Earl. Able to shift eerily between simplicity, charm, and rage, Libor adds key dimension to Earl’s brutal smallness. He’s contrasted by Kamyar Pazandeh’s superb Dr. Pomatter and Tyler Pearse’s goofy Ogie who complete the show’s main trifecta of varyingly questionable men.

Despite the winning sweetness in both of those performances, it’s key in my view not to miss the detail that every single man in the show is in some way untrustworthy, and every woman somehow trapped. Pearse’s big number, bedazzled with fun choreography courtesy of Genny Sermonia to solicit sympathy and applause from the optimistic audience, is a foreboding stalker number played for deceptive rom-com feels. Even nice guy curmudgeon Joe (played lovably by Shaw Festival great Peter Millard) hints at a backstory of questionable relationships while Lee Siegel’s sweet but rough-edged Cal (an oddly silent role for such a singer), like Dr. Pomatter, is casually cheating on his wife. Pazandeh is a revelation as the awkward and superficially heroic doctor. With a voice I could listen to forever and genuine acting chops to add clarity and honesty to the quirky role, he’s maximum dreamy, which makes the letdown hurt so much more when it becomes clear that he’s not here to save the day.

I would have loved to see a bit more of this darkness that exists across the whole musical brought to the forefront to match the threatening curl of Libor’s fingertips around McLellan’s fragile arm. As is, the darkness is mostly there if your particular trust issues allow you to see it. Otherwise, all is pastel and pretty, even despite the Earl of it all, and that happy ending is very happy. Waitress is a musical I’m still working on loving, mining a bit more every time I see it (and still never finding much in that score, no matter how hard my “Gravity”-loving heart tries). The Grand’s excellent production gave me so much more than I’ve found before.