It's No Secret: ‘The Lunchbox’ Continues to Pack ’Em in for a Reason

Since it opened in May at Berkeley Rep, the world-premiere musical The Lunchbox has sold out night after night. Based on and hewing closely to the well-loved 2013 film, the show’s been extended twice already, and is, in plain terms, a bona fide hit.

That much was plain during a mid-run visit, where the crowd — roughly half South Asian, half older white Berkeleyite — treated it like it was still opening night: excited chatter in the packed lobby, a standing ovation, flower bouquets at the ready.

Directed by Rachel Chavkin, the show is a warm, sweet, sensory delight. It starts with a magnificent four-story set (design by Mimi Lien), full of wrought iron, concrete, clotheslines and a 20-foot Bollywood movie billboard. Stairs, balconies and fire escapes recall a Mumbai version of West Side Story; streetcars and deliverymen soon add to the crowded cityscape.

Sequestered in her apartment, Ila (Kuhoo Verma, in a starmaking role) is a thirtysomething wife and mother trying to cook her way back into her distant husband’s heart. She takes advice for recipes and life from her upstairs neighbor, whom she calls “auntie” (Anisha Nagarajan), and is clearly in need of a shakeup.

She gets one when the lunch Ila cooks for her husband is delivered to the wrong address: a defeated widower, Fernandes (Manu Narayan), who’s pushed papers at a desk for 30 years. Two two strike up a correspondence of handwritten notes tucked inside the delivered lunchbox, each more revealing than the last. After a flirty battle of the sexes over the correct amount of salt, a charming, late-in-life puppy love takes root, one folded-up piece of paper at a time. 

You may think you know where this is going, and you’re half-right. But as any handcart operator in a big city can tell you, the fun is in the journey, bumps and all. It’s a joy to see just how completely smitten Ila and Fernandes are with one another. The script by Ritesh Batra, who wrote and directed the original film, nails with precision the feeling of being infatuated with someone distant and possibly unattainable.

Verma is just plain radiant in the lead role, on down to how Ila overthinks every detail in advance of a possible first meeting. She’s an excellent singer, emoting and hitting every trill, and she perfectly conveys both the coyness and frustration of Ila’s predicament, from introspective belters like “Courage” to the tiniest coquettishly raised eyebrow.

The play has many side quests, some more relevant than others. Fernandes’ coworker Shaikh (Aathaven Tharmarajah) helps open up Fernandes’ heart not just to love but to friendship. Nagarajan pulls all the humanity imaginable out of Mrs. Deshpande, the upstairs auntie whose lonely home life serves as a warning to what Ila’s life could become in the face of inaction. 

Other numbers are less important, if not complete speedbumps. Twenty minutes in, Fernandes happens to tell a restaurant that its food was good, and its employees commence a hammy song-and-dance about the Bird of Gold. It’s somewhat cute, but this early in the show, we want more Ila and Fernandes, and it stifles the plot’s momentum. 

The orchestra performing the songs, however, could not be finer, and the music by Daniel and Patrick Lazour straddles traditional Indian rhythms and melodies (opening number “No Wrong Mistake,” sung by the lunchbox deliverymen known as dabbawallahs) and the accessible veneer of Broadway (a colorful, serene dream sequence about Bhutan). The choreography by Reshma Gajjar, particularly during a crowded train car scene, is inventive and captivating. 

Much of The Lunchbox is a very traditional love story, with nearly conservative themes. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach; the way to flirt with a woman is by negging. Then there’s the age gap, and the notion of women being attracted to decades-older men, who appear more mature, deep and emotionally present.

These are usually viewed as hindrances by your typical lefty Berkeley audience, but the rapturous crowd on Wednesday night certainly didn’t seem to mind. After the ups and downs of Ila and Fernandes’ yearning for each other, and an indelible final onstage image before the lights go out, who could really argue?

‘The Lunchbox’ runs through Sunday, July 12 at Berkeley Rep. Tickets and more information here.