Waitress is the semi-autobiographic tale written, directed, and co-starring the late Adrienne Shelly, whose murder just before the film's debut at Sundance lifted its profile and hovers over it. Though the film follows the lives of three waitresses, it concentrates on Jenna (Keri Russell), who's down-on-her-luck and aching to split town, but low on cash and pregnant with a baby she doesn't want, courtesy of her boorish husband, Earl (Jeremy Sisto). Her only escape is pie. She dreams up new recipes in her head, gives them long, preciously self-aware names ("Pregnant-Miserable-Self-Pitying-Loser Pie"), describes them in mawkish voice-overs, and then serves them at the diner where she works. Along comes Dr. Pomatter (Nathan Fillion), a bumbling, handsome new OBGYN. He's married, too. They fall in love. They make a pie together ("I-Can't-Have-No-Affair-Because-It's-Wrong-and-I-Don't-Want-Earl-to-Kill-Me Pie"). In the hazy light of the kitchen, she stirs the batter and sings a little ditty her mama taught her, while the doctor fondles her affectionately from behind.
It's easy to scoff at the film's clichéd setting (a retro diner), peopled with standard wacky regulars, like Joe, the old curmudgeon with a heart of gold. Yet occasionally the suger-high dissolves: "Are you happy?" Jenna asks her militant, no-nonsense boss.
"As happy as I can be," he says, before delving into an earnest and profound explanation. Here, Waitress floors you with its brave vulnerability. As syrupy as much of it may be, its ultimate impression is dark and bittersweet. — Katie Liederman
