Istvan Dugalin ➤

Photo provided by Alexander Mantia

Alexander Mantia’s modest puppet show has such a simple premise and format, is so deceptively frivolous and naive, that I didn’t even realize how invested I’d become until the end. The Zucchini Club plays like a spontaneous variety show performed by a quirky menagerie and framed by a quaint little story. We meet an old Italian man, Pasquale Provolone (full of his own cheesy puns), who wants to protect his cherished giant zucchini from hungry wildlife. His obsession with this vegetable is making him a little neglectful of his wife, Maria, whose patience is wearing thin.

The castelet, constructed by Sal Mantia, depicts Pasquale’s garden which features some picket fencing and a cute little dog house. A backdrop of blue gauze represents the sky and gives A. Mantia a view to his hand-puppet action. The humans, Pasquale and Maria, have these hilariously floppy fingers that amplify the expressive humour of their gestures. With his squinting eyes and unruly moustache, her kerchief and bulbous nose, they are an endearing pair. I especially love the way she “la, la, la” dances her way offstage and vibrates when trying to contain her frustration.

Hoping to make things right with Maria, Pasquale keeps leaving us—the audience, his goombahs—to protect his precious zucchini, though the animals that happen by have no interest in it, they are here to entertain us like the random vaudeville acts they are. There’s a raccoon magician, a beret-wearing beat poet dog, a fancy French skunk chanteuse whom I imagine to be Pepé Le Pew’s sister—and more! Each of them is riffing on a a familiar type, sometimes even a specific celebrity, like the squirrel comedian channelling Rodney Dangerfield—those buggy eyes! None of them have actual talent, especially not the rat who does impressions, but their enthusiasm and gumption that wins us over. Perhaps one of the sweetest characters is a rhino—I mean, uh, “unicorn”—who is so excited to have a song at the end of the show.

There is some light audience interaction. We are expected to laugh, gasp, giggle, and respond when addressed. Someone gets to be the assistant to that raccoon magician. And though it’s all very silly, you do get sort of caught up in the shenanigans and it feels entirely natural to shout advice, words of encouragement and emphatic caution as you internalize the hokey stakes of the scenario. 

Mantia’s hand-crafted puppets are distinct and cartoonishly persuasive. He’s got great panache with his miniature articulations and colourful voices. He’s had some mentoring by the esteemed Ronnie Burkett and you can sense Mantia shares that master’s playful authenticity and showmanship. In both its giddy and sincere modes, this feels classic.

Our “unicorn” buddy gets to perform his heartfelt song (written by Mantia and Jessa Richer) and it’s lovely. The theme song is also a goofy delight. The final moment of the show did sort of blindside me. Words of affection, as corny as they may sound, can hit you right in the feels.

It’s got a very short run at Red Sandcastle Theatre, but if this sounds like your jam, fear not; Matia will be performing The Zucchini Club at the Toronto Fringe Festival this summer.

The Zucchini Club
running March 19 to 22, 2025
Red Sandcastle Theatre (922 Queen Street East)
running time: 60 minutes (no intermission)

Photo provided by Alexander Mantia