Loner earns badge for life lessons at camp

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This article was published 08/05/2025 (325 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Manitoba Theatre for Young People’s season closer of Billie and the Moon packs a raft of potent existential life lessons into a pint-sized backpack, as its title character, a young loner, ultimately discovers his true authentic self under the glow of moonlight.

Penned by former Winnipegger Wren Brian (now based in Scotland), the world première features brisk direction by Ray Strachan (assisted by Dora Carroll), with an evocative set, props and lighting created by Dean Cowieson. MJ Dandeneau’s atmospheric soundscape — including lapping waves, chirpy crickets and birdcalls punctuated by jazzy interludes — further keeps this 65-minute show popping with kid-friendly energy.

Quiet introvert Billie (Kris Cahatol) arrives at Camp Happy Fun Times like a fish out of water, instantly overwhelmed by a relentless stream of activities, including tug-of-war, archery and rowing (for which the actors slip across the stage in a nifty banana-yellow canoe).

Buddied up with gung-ho, gregarious and at times all-around mean girl Sam (Megan Fry, who also plays Parent), and egged on by camp counsellors Rickie (Toby Hughes; tripling as fellow camper Parker and the Moon), and Andy (Rhea Rodych-Rasidescu, also camper Jules), Billie seeks refuge in the woods, where the Moon offers friendship and cosmic commiseration.

Brian’s compassionate, well-crafted script unfolds through a series of vignettes — Billie’s despair rising like a summer thermometer with every belted-out verse of 99 Bottles of Pop on the Wall — that will surely strike a chord with many Billies in the audience, making this young people’s theatre at its best.

There’s plenty of audience participation, but it never feels gratuitous and is paced effectively throughout.

One of the show’s most magical ooh-and-ah moments come when pinpricks of light are shone over the audience during the moon scenes, with tots and grown-ups wriggling their fingers to create twinkling stars for a deliciously immersive theatrical experience.

The four versatile cast members seamlessly morph through multiple roles, their physical mannerisms and vocal inflections leaping across generations.

The way Hughes and Rodych-Rasidescu flip between their respective camper and counsellor personas is particularly noteworthy, as they flesh out their characters aided by lightning-quick costume changes.

A wonderful Cahatol delivers a pitch-perfect protagonist, full of aching vulnerability while grappling with age-old questions regarding the need for solitude and “being alone,” versus just plain loneliness.

Hughes’ Moon, perched atop the upstage risers against a starry night sky, is equally compelling, garbed in costume designer Brenda McLean’s wizard-like cape and mask with his amplified voice making him even more otherworldly. He lends a crater, er, an ear to Billie, offering understanding and down-to-earth advice when Billie admits, “I’m just sick of pretending I’m having fun when I’m really not.”

However, this all-too-relatable Moon is not merely pie-in-the-sky; he grumpily bemoans that Earth doesn’t listen to him, or that earthlings are too tired or busy to be looking up at him these days (there’s truth to that).

During Billie’s darkest hour, Moon’s wise counsel brings a tear to the eye, his boundless friendship able to warm hearts despite his being gazillions of kilometres away.

There are a few minor flaws: the script glosses too quickly over Billie’s being a child of D-I-V-O-R-C-E (lots of younger audience members will want to hear more about that), but it makes the insightful point that for some parents, choosing to part ways is able to quell the white waters of family dysfunction).

Another scene is astute: Rickie’s well-intended insistence on armchair psychoanalyzing Billie, comparing the noise of the camp to the chaos at home, dishonours his natural proclivities for solitude, while further fanning the fires of distress.

It’s also tough to hear the loud ’n’ proud Sam at times; her rapid-fire delivery, often overly shrill, improved by the end.

Also, it’s never a good sign when audience members puzzle with each other whether the show is over. The final image of Billie, zipping around the stage on a tree-trunk spaceship intending to visit his lunar friend, feels underdeveloped.

The abrupt blackout even suggested his spaceship had crashed, semi-traumatizing a few kids sitting around this writer during Saturday’s matinee performance. There are many ways around this, including possibly spotlighting the Moon, showing the two friends finally reunited in the cosmos, or even making the entire play a dreamy flight of fancy.

Despite all this, however, the play ends on a grace note, as Billie ultimately forgives Sam for her bullying ways, the latter learning she needs to listen to others.

After Moon assures Billie, “We’re both on Team Loner,” there is greater understanding and acceptance, as he fulfils camp’s “Rule No. 6,” to “have fun and try new things. Billie’s unconditional love for his unique, non-negotiable self proves the best camp activity of all.

holly.harris@shaw.ca