Waitress
★★★ 1/2
Waitress is a sweet little rom-com—with a dash of southern flair and a swirl of drama. And yes, I know calling it “sweet” is a little on the nose for a movie about pies, but it fits. What sets this film apart from your typical romantic comedy is its fiercely independent lead, played by Keri Russell (who I’ve always admired). She brings a grounded, no-nonsense charm to a woman trapped in a very toxic marriage, and her bluntness with everyone around her is oddly delightful.
The film builds a colorful, small-town world around her—both visually and emotionally. It’s drenched in deep southern tones and filled with quirky characters. Nathan Fillion gives a quiet, shy charm to his role, while Jeremy Sisto cranks the creep factor up to ten as the possessive husband.
When Waitress first premiered, it felt like a quietly revolutionary indie gem. Watching it now, maybe it’s less surprising because so many films have since borrowed its tone and themes. But I was still struck by the emotional depth it carries beneath its light surface. For a film full of pie-making and daydreaming, there are real moments of dread and sorrow tucked between the layers.
Now, full honesty: I’ve never been big on adultery storylines, no matter the context, and this movie leans into that quite a bit—not just with Keri Russell’s character, but throughout. That said, it ends on a hopeful and satisfying note.
One of the film’s most charming elements is how it ties Jenna’s emotions to the pies she bakes—each one its own little diary entry in dessert form. And while the idea of adapting Waitress into a Broadway musical might seem odd at first, having seen the stage version, it actually makes a lot of sense. There’s heart, humor and just enough theatrical flair already baked in.
I didn’t love Waitress quite as much as I remembered the first time around, but it’s still a heartfelt and memorable slice of indie film that too many people seem to have missed.
