Laugh-out-loud comedy, moments of genuine heartbreak and a sensational performance from Lucie Jones make Waitress one of the most memorable musicals to grace the Lyceum stage in recent years.
Every so often, a musical comes along that reminds you just how exhilarating live theatre can be. The kind of show that has you laughing uncontrollably one minute, fighting back tears the next, and leaving the auditorium feeling you’ve witnessed something rather special.
Waitress, which opened at Sheffield’s Lyceum Theatre on Tuesday evening, is exactly that sort of production.
Based on the 2007 film, the musical follows Jenna, a gifted pie-maker working in a small-town American diner, whose talent for creating extraordinary desserts provides an escape from a considerably less appetising home life.
Trapped in a controlling marriage and facing an unexpected pregnancy, Jenna finds herself at a crossroads. What follows is a beautifully bittersweet story of friendship, resilience and finding the courage to take control of your own destiny.
One of the production’s most appealing touches is its inventive staging. Rather than being hidden away in the orchestra pit, the musicians remain visible throughout, cleverly integrated into the action. At various points, they become customers in the diner, occupying tables as the waitresses serve them coffee. It’s a wonderfully playful device that lends the production an intimacy and energy all of its own.
At the centre of everything is Lucie Jones, whose portrayal of Jenna is nothing short of exceptional.
Jones balances dry humour and quiet resilience with an underlying vulnerability that never feels overstated. Her performance is beautifully measured, allowing Jenna’s frustration and desperation to emerge naturally.
And then comes She Used to Be Mine.
Already one of contemporary musical theatre’s most affecting songs, Sara Bareilles’ extraordinary ballad becomes something truly unforgettable in Jones’s hands.
Beginning with an almost conversational fragility, she gradually builds the emotional intensity before unleashing the full force of her remarkable voice. Yet it’s not simply the vocal power that makes the moment so extraordinary, but the conviction behind every word.
It’s a breathtaking performance, delivered with such emotional honesty that the entire auditorium seems to hold its breath.
Quite simply, it’s worth the ticket price alone.
Thankfully, Waitress also knows exactly when to release the emotional pressure.
Much of the evening’s comedy comes courtesy of Ogie, the wonderfully eccentric and hopelessly enthusiastic suitor of Jenna’s fellow waitress, Dawn. With his exaggerated mannerisms, impeccable timing and relentless determination, there’s something distinctly Norman Wisdom-esque about his performance. He had the audience in stitches.
Jenna’s increasingly complicated relationship with her doctor provides further amusement, with some brilliantly mischievous encounters and surprisingly risqué choreography adding to the show’s infectious sense of fun.
But crucially, the comedy never undermines the story’s darker themes.
Jenna’s husband’s controlling behaviour creates a genuine sense of unease, making her eventual decision to reclaim her independence all the more powerful.
When she finally confronts him in the hospital following the birth of their daughter, the auditorium erupts in applause. It’s a wonderfully cathartic moment, and one that demonstrates just how invested the audience has become in her journey.
Holding everything together is Bareilles’ superb score, which moves effortlessly between infectious ensemble numbers and beautifully intimate ballads. The pacing rarely falters, the supporting performances are full of character, and the friendship between the three waitresses gives the production its beating heart.
What makes Waitress so impressive is its ability to navigate these contrasting moods so confidently. It’s frequently hilarious, occasionally heartbreaking and ultimately uplifting, without ever becoming overly sentimental.
By the final curtain, it has delivered everything you could wish for from a night at the theatre: magnificent singing, inventive staging, wonderful comedy and a story with genuine emotional weight.
And at its heart is Lucie Jones, whose extraordinary performance deserves every plaudit coming her way.
Funny, moving and utterly captivating, Waitress is a genuine theatrical treat – and quite possibly one of the best musicals I’ve seen.
Waitress runs at Sheffield Lyceum until Saturday 17 October 2026.
