Jenna's precarious life is further complicated when she falls for her new OB-GYN (Nathan Fillion), a klutzy dreamboat who also happens to be married. Despite her attraction to the handsome Dr. Pomatter, Jenna keeps her distance—until she can't—and the two embark on a tricky, but warmly satisfying affair. The romance perks up Jenna to the point where she's practically floating on air, though the selfish Earl (who doesn't even know his wife is pregnant, much less cheating on him) is more focused on the dwindling tip money she regularly forks over. When Jenna eventually tells Earl he's going to be a father, his main concern is that she'll love the baby more than him—which says it all about this grade-A narcissist, who's as insecure as he is cruel.

The rest of the film follows Jenna's push-pull affair with Dr. Pomatter, her vague plans to leave Earl once she has the baby, and how she reconciles her refreshingly honest apathy about motherhood. Then, of course, there are those pies—gorgeous, inventive concoctions that Jenna creates with passion and joy. She also names them after her current mood, coming up with such instant monikers as "I Don't Want Earl's Baby Pie," "I Hate My Husband Pie," and "Earl Murders Me Because I'm Having An Affair Pie" (yes, there's a pattern here). Shelly shoots Jenna's pie-making sessions so beautifully—and sensually—that Waitress rivals food-centric movies like Big Night, Like Water For Chocolate, and The Scent of Green Papaya for sheer culinary dazzle.

Baking is Jenna's therapy, an escape from everything stifling and mundane. Each and every pastry is also a tribute to her late mother, who taught her how to bake, as well as how to love. The connection between Jenna's devotion to her mother's memory and her own lack of maternal instinct is a profound and touching thread that raises up Shelly's somewhat derivative script quite a few notches. The film's thematic richness also helps you overlook the fact that the time spent at Joe's Diner, the homey spot where Jenna serves her luscious pies and earns her "getaway money," feels borrowed right out of Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (or worse, its TV spinoff, Alice). Like that spunky title character, Jenna is sister-tight with her two hash-slinging co-workers—the dorky Dawn (Shelly) and the brassier Becky (Cheryl Hines)—and has a crabby boss named Cal (Lew Temple), which sounds a lot like Alice's Mel, no? While the diner scenes are enjoyable, the attention given to Becky and Dawn's personal lives feels a bit excessive and not all that interesting, especially when compared to Jenna's juicy predicament. Andy Griffith also has a nice supporting role as Joe, a cantankerous old guy who owns the diner and, it seems, everything else in town. While it's fun to see Griffith on the big screen again, his scenes could've used some trimming as well.

Waitress runs on a bit, but with its strong acting, poignant moments, and fair share of laughs, it has the potential to become a modest hit. How sad that Adrienne Shelly can't be here to see it.