Playwright: William Brown and Doug Frew. At: Broadway In Chicago at the Broadway Playhouse, 175 E. Chestnut St. Tickets: 800-775-2000; www.broadwayinchicago.com; $25-$75. Runs through: Oct. 20
You will leave the theater following this show wanting to: 1) move to Paris, 2) eat something delicious and French and 3) tell somebody you've loved for a long time that you don't regret it an instant. If you were one of the lucky people who saw Timeline's premiere production in 2010, you already did these things, but if you weren't and didn't, the Chicago Commercial Collective and Broadway in Chicago are now offering you a second chance with this remount at a location where the tools for accomplishing at least the first two directives are readily available.
The reasons for your post-curtain pursuit of these three goals are: 1) because William Brown and Doug Frew's biodrama of fabled chef Julia Child mostly transpires in that mythic city following World War II, 2) because the saga of how she revolutionized American cooking is replete with food described in euphuism befitting exquisite jewels, and 3) because this account of the young California matron and her beloved East Coast-bred husband is overwhelmingly, unabashedly, ecstatically romantic. Providing the adversity mandated by that literary genre is the McCarthy-era House Committee on Un-American Activities, who harry Paul Child and his leftist colleagues despite their spotless records of wartime service to their country, while the requisite benevolent gods who intervene on the lovers' behalf are represented by publishers foreseeing profitable paths to international harmony opening through kitchen doors.
There is always a danger in equating domestic chores with creative geniuswasn't the mission of the propaganda machines during the 1950s to push women out of the workplace and back into the home? Did the assembly of airy soufflés and savory stews for gobbling by diners oblivious to their artistry deliver housewives from what would in 1963 be dubbed the "feminine mystique"? While passing mention is made of Paul's career as a photographer prior to enlisting in the foreign service and Julia's stint in the OSS, the former's dramatic universe still revolves largely around suits in offices, and the latter's on aprons and ovens.
These misgivings need not curdle your enjoyment of a delightful evening spent in the company of the charming and spunky Julia, portrayed with macaw-voiced accuracy by Karen Janes Woditsch, and her bevy of devoted admirers. Whatever your personal sentiments regarding her legacy, you will cheer on her every victory, share her every sorrow, growl at her every enemy, and happily incur an appetite as you do.