Merryn Johns

Nearly 50 years in, The Baker’s Wife is still unlikely to transfer to Broadway. (Though Schwartz’s royalty checks continue to arrive, thanks to Wicked, and the newly opened The Queen of Versailles.) It feels, at times, anachronistic against Jason Sherwood’s nostalgic scenic design. And yet, the croissant, insubstantial as it is, has a time-honored tradition behind every fold.

You can feel Fillinger's disgust at this country's gender inequity in the endless quantities of vomit, blood, and breast milk that soak this play. You might think you're arriving for sharp feminist political commentary. You're really coming for an episode of Veep put through a Saturday Night Live blender and turned into a blue slushy. It might make you happy and feel good. It might make you sick. Either way, it's a purge.