Ariana DeBose and Scott Bakula, center, and Cast Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman

Among musical theatre enthusiasts, The Baker's Wife, which closed before reaching Broadway in 1976, is a beguiling, decades-long enigma. Schwartz's score, including the now-standard "Meadowlark," is filled with genuine gems. But Stein's book, which has been retooled and tweaked since Trevor Nunn mounted a production in 1989, has stymied the show's success for nearly fifty years. (The current licensed version draws mainly from the 2005 Paper Mill iteration.)

Audiences attending a performance at CSC are in for a real treat. The Lynn F. Angelson Theater has been transformed into a quaint Provençal village square. Scenic designer Jason Sherwood has fitted the entire space with faux terracotta arches, ornate windows framed by wooden shutters, and vines creeping along the earth-toned walls (which open up to reveal the cozy interiors). The Mediterranean atmosphere is accentuated by Bradley King's sun-drenched lighting and Catherine Zuber's costumes, which perfectly capture the rustic French fashions of 1935, the year the show is set.

The musical, based on Marcel Pagnol and Jean Giono's film La Femme du Boulanger, chronicles the profound effects the arrival of celebrated baker Aimable Castagnet (Scott Bakula) and his strikingly beautiful young wife, Geneviève (Ariana DeBose), have on the community. The villagers rejoice over the exquisite, bounteous baked goods, but their excitement is painfully short-lived.

Dominique (Kevin William Paul, who exudes sensuousness and possesses a rich tenor voice), a handsome young rogue with the impulsive all-consuming passion of a lovelorn Romeo, lures Geneviève to run away with him. She does, and the loss not only devastates Aimable, but destroys his will to work. He forgoes baking entirely and aimlessly drowns his sorrow in drink. The desperate villagers put their petty disagreements aside and rally together in hopes of reuniting the Castagnets and restoring bread to Concorde.

While the musical's book is serviceable, it remains fundamentally flawed. In revisions to his original libretto, Stein placed more emphasis on the villagers, effectively making them a protagonist in the story. Although this shift makes structural sense, it means that for a significant portion of the second act, the baker and his wife drift into the background as the community takes over. Stein, who masterfully brought the colorful characters of Anatevka to life in Fiddler on the Roof, certainly has a proven track record in this regard. However, the result is comparable to a second act of Fiddler in which Tevye and Golde step back and cede the main focus to Yente, Lazar Wolf, and the neighbors bickering over the mule/horse.

Yet, under the direction of Gordon Greenberg (who directed the 2005 Paper Mill and 2024 Menier Chocolate Factory productions), what a village this is. The ensemble triumphs: Arnie Burton is delightful as a pretentious teacher; Sally Murphy is touching as the emotionally abused wife of a butcher (Manu Narayan, suitably pompous); and as the Marquis, Nathan Lee Graham is deliciously smarmy with his bevy of libidinous "nieces" (Savannah Lee Birdsong, Samantha Gershman, and Hailey Thomas, all terrific dancers) constantly in tow. Alma Cuervo as a condescending spinster, Kevin Del Aguila as the village drunk, Will Roland as a jittery priest, and Mason Olshavsky as Dominique's hapless sidekick add to the marvelous vitality.

Playing the owners of the café, Robert Cuccioli and Judy Kuhn are especially wonderful. As a longtime married couple, they bicker and spar while powerfully revealing the shared sadness they carry. Serving dual duty as the narrator, Kuhn masterfully delivers the wistful "Chanson."

The performers playing the lovers at the center of the musical do not disappoint. Bakula is a skillful singer and adroitly captures the baker's charm and naivete without ever coming across as a simple dupe. He is well matched with DeBose, who is compelling as the young wife whose world seems to be closing in on her. Whereas her vocal delivery is rather tentative and her "Meadowlark" does not quite provoke the requisite goosebumps, she makes up for it in her acting and dancing. Choreographer Stephanie Klemons provides a sultry second-act pas de deux that allows DeBose to unleash her character's pent-up passions.

Schwartz's score, which expertly fuses traditional French compositions (such as musette) with classic Broadway show tunes, is beautifully served. Under Charlie Alterman's deft music direction, the nine-piece orchestra is uniformly excellent. (The overall sound is further enhanced by Jason Crystal's sound design, which achieves a nice balance between the voices and the music.)

The Baker's Wife is not a perfect musical, and it probably never will be, but the current production is marvelously entertaining. It goes to show that it can take a few geniuses to make a hit, but sometimes it takes a village–and a stellar cast.