Beautiful, sometimes brainy bunch of Munsch

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 23/12/2025 (290 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Munsch Upon a Time, in a theatre not that far away, Prairie Theatre Exchange reinstated its 30-year tradition of bringing beloved Canadian children’s author Robert Munsch’s storybooks to life for the first time since 2019.

Its latest family-friendly holiday show, Munsch Upon a Time, opened over the weekend at the Cherry Karpyshin Mainstage and was met with giggles and glee by tots and their caregivers Sunday morning.

The award-winning writer scarcely needs introduction. Born in Pittsburgh, Penn., in 1945, Munsch moved to Canada in 1975 to teach at the University of Guelph, before devoting himself exclusively to children’s literature. Kids have eagerly lapped up his engaging, wholly relatable books including Love You Forever, A Promise Is a Promise and Alligator Baby.

The 60-minute production with all-local thespians, slickly directed by Alissa Watson, features a medley of five tales stitched together into a cosy narrative quilt by Winnipeg-based playwright/actor/director Debbie Patterson. The theatre artist, whose prior adaptations of Munsch’s perennially popular stories have been produced in theatres across Canada, creates effective transitions that become a framing device for each story, as well as providing overall context.

However her “story-within-a-story” also generates thought-provoking subtext and corollary themes for the older (or younger) philosophers in the crowd, posing salient questions about the potential demise of “analogue content devices” a.k.a. books, in a digital age, post-pandemic germaphobia and the very nature of time itself.

The high-octane show kicks off with Gwendolyn Collins’ wonderfully animated, bespectacled Prof. Pim sharing her latest experiment, in which she’s invented a time machine able to leapfrog both into the past and future by 50 years. (It’s a particularly poignant number, given that the now 80-year-old Munsch, currently suffering from Parkinson’s disease among other ailments, has stated his intention to have one of his yet-to-be-released books published posthumously annually for 50 years following his eventual death.)

Then it’s off to the races for their first self-narrated story, David’s Father, as Kara Joseph’s Patsy, evoking the vibe of laid-back, counter-culture hippies, leaps out of the “past,” while her paranoid counterpart, Ben Krawchuk as the crotchety Mr. Fullerton, extolling the virtues of “vaccinations, sanitation and isolation,” likewise emerges from behind his own curtain as the “future.”

From there, the actors slip into their alter egos as Julie, David and the latter’s bellowing, giant-father, using dolls to create visual scale in this first heartwarming tale of embracing diversity within one’s own family.

Next up is The Fire Station, which includes a witty snippet of Singing in the Rain, as friends Sheila (Collins) and Michael (Joseph) soft-shoe with their umbrellas coated in “fire retardant.”

Give Me Back My Dad features Joseph’s Cheryl rescuing her father, played by Krawchuk, from a scheming fish, portrayed by a growling Collins.

Sound designer Sarah Constible provides a grab-bag of effective effects and recorded tracks throughout, while Joyce Licup’s multipurpose set seamlessly morphs between a fire hall, trailer, castle and other backdrops, including a mobile stack of “books” that adds further dimension.

Brenda McLean’s costumes prove both functional and kid-friendly, allowing for quick changes with actors adding and subtracting pieces to portray their respective characters, all lit by local theatre veteran Larry Isacoff.

It’s a no-brainer that the show’s penultimate offering, The Paper Bag Princess, would create extra anticipatory buzz in the house. Recounted as a quasi-musical, its story of Princess Elizabeth (Joseph) who ultimately gives a comeuppance to the vainglorious Prince Ronald (a hilarious Collins, with the gender swapping adding further layers of intrigue) after tricking the Dragon (Krawchuk) has forever been stamped as a feminist tale of empowerment.

The infusion of several (short) musical numbers, including nifty a cappella and ukulele tunes, only made one long for more — these multi-talented, versatile actors could have easily handled it. A few extra liberties and extemporizations are also added to the otherwise verbatim text — a respectful acknowledgment of Munsch’s artistry, as well as presumably stringent copyright laws — that further ramp up the fun factor while still packing a serious message of gender equality.

Capping the production with the iconic story would have been a logical conclusion; however, the finale, It’s My Room, allows for plenty of the audience participation requisite to young people’s theatre.

What a joy to see 21 of the audience’s youngest members fill the stage as cousins, dogs, mosquitoes and bears (oh my), leading to a grand finale of the Big Bear Boogie, in which the grown-up actors led a final dance party where all — now turned bears — strutted their stuff.

Finding a way to incorporate those children in the audience who did not get “picked” would feel more inclusive; a few appeared crestfallen at being left on the sidelines. Even inviting everyone in the house to shimmy and shake as multi-generational “bears” would have ended this show on a more affirming note.

While the bones of this production are its five individual stories, the interlaced scenes exploring the nature of time are thoughtful mini-discourses. The latter are, however, tricky to follow at times, particularly when Joseph and Krawchuk dive into each other’s machines, or share details of the “2029 systems crash.”

Despite Prof. Pim giving it a good college try with her analysis, these scenes, ripe with potential, feel underdeveloped.

But then again, the kids are really here for the Munsch, with PTE delivering a Christmas cornucopia of all-time favourites still making spirits bright.

winnipegfreepress.com/hollyharris