Istvan Dugalin ➤

Eric Woolfe (with puppets) in “The Strange & Eerie Memoirs of Billy Wuthergloom”, Photo by Matthew McLaren

I’ve been spook-charmed by Eldritch Theatre for just over a decade now. This latest outing, a 25th anniversary remount of their premier production, is the first time Eric Woolfe’s Lovecraftian-Muppet shtick has brought me to full tears. He’s always maintained a distinctly human thread throughout all the felt gore and camp grotesquerie; but this struck an especially sincere chord. The Strange & Eerie Memoirs of Billy Wuthergloom is a macabre coming-of-age tale, a portrait of puberty as ghastly transmogrification, but it is also a poignant meditation on mental illness and grief.

We meet Billy just as he turns 8 years old. He’s planning a sleep-over with friends, but he’s got a problem. He knows that, despite parental platitudes, there is a monster under his bed—a succubus, in fact. To vanquish this alluring yet threatening beast, he seeks the aid of the class “loony”—a morbidly eccentric loner named Hirskill Fischmascher. Billy is absolutely right when he tells us: only Hirskill Fischmascher’s full name does justice to the, uh, gestalt of him. The gaunt, haunted-face puppet evokes that signature Eldritch blend of uncanny hilarity and pathos.

With his knowledge of the supernatural lending comfort (if not actual protection) from sexually sinister creatures, the two strike up a friendship that alienates Billy from his former friends. As Woolfe takes us through Billy’s adolescence, his teenage years and early adulthood, he sports a ghoulish pallor beneath a sideways baseball cap. This iconic look remains the same, but with careful adjustments to posture and inflection, Woolfe marks subtle shifts in Billy’s maturity. 

Though the story features a multitude of macabre creatures and outlandish scenarios throughout Billy’s journey from boy to man and Woolfe’s energy is anarchic, he grounds the story in abject details, rendering authentically clumsy, hurtful, and tender moments. The stylized puppets are a ragtag collection of repurposed objects yet the characters Woolfe conjures with them are surprisingly genuine. Getting a little too close for comfort, he reunites us with those mean-spirited bullies from our childhoods (who went on to be pompous, pseudo-intellectual TAs) and those early, bewildering spurts of our hormonal bodies thrusting us into awkward, face-sucking episodes with mouths not yet accustomed to other people.

It’s all here—all the goopy, titillating and terrifying details of a roller-coaster sexual awakening and the clunky dynamics of kids contorting themselves into shapes they don’t yet understand. It’s delightfully naughty, unabashedly sexual in a fumbling, adolescent way. The garish lighting, the hand-crafted aesthetic, the folksy, humorous horror of the musical numbers—it’s all so much fun and provides plenty of traction for the deeper emotionality.

By the end, the friendship between Billy and Hirskill Fischmascher hits with solid, quiet impact. The story gets pretty grim by the end. In the darkest moment, I was astonished at how effectively Woolfe offers up Hirskill Fischmascher’s “looniness” as a compelling depiction of mental illness. There are references to pills and institutions and we get the sense his mother is dutifully protective, though lacking the resources to properly support her ostracized and struggling son. And Billy, though his intentions are reasonably good, is understandably self-absorbed. The most haunting aspect of the story is how clearly it acknowledges that the brink may be closer than we realize. 

Kathleen Welch as a creepy keyboard accompanist adds to the vibes. Star Wars figures into the mix, one of several 80s references that never feels overwrought—like so much of our nostalgia-baked culture. Of the array of ghoulish puppets by Woolfe and Dawn Weaver; the bug-eyed, rubber-mouthed simplicity of Billy’s first girlfriend Sabrina is a favourite of mine. 

The Strange & Eerie Memoirs of Billy Wuthergloom is a beautiful, heartfelt, and hilarious bit of giddy Grand Guignol.

The Strange & Eerie Memoirs of Billy Wuthergloom
running January 29 to February 9, 2025
Red Sandcastle Theatre (922 Queens St. E)
running time: 80 minutes (no intermission)

Eric Woolfe (with puppet) in “The Strange & Eerie Memoirs of Billy Wuthergloom”, Photo by Matthew McLaren