The Strange and Eerie Memoirs of Billy Wuthergloom: puberty is supernatural
30 Jan 2025 - Photos by Matthew McLaren

While we slept like Wynken, Blynken and Noddies,
Lascivious demons crept into our bodies

While I am bursting to share my enthusiasm for The Strange and Eerie Memoirs of Billy Wuthergloom by recounting the abundance of highlights, those would be spoilers. And with fatalistic certainty I can guarantee that my descriptions would in no way match the spookily spectacular version that Eric Woolfe (Phantasmagoria 3D!, MacBeth At Tale Told By an Idiot, The House at Poe Corner, Dr Weathergloom's Here There Be Monsters, As You Like It) brings to the stage. We begin with his musical accomplice Kathleen Welch (Suddenly Last Summer), in full Stevie Nicks gone goth demonic deadpan, striding onto stage and creating ominous distorted chords on an electric piano. It evolves into a full musical number, composed by Marc Downing, with Woolfe on ukulele. Billy warns us that "There's a monster in your closet, There's a goblin down the hall" among other hilarious horrific hauntings. Most of all he wants to warn us that "puberty is supernatural," "your body is changing," and "hope that the things don't find you until long after your pubic hair has grown in." He then recreates his own hilarious, and horrific, supernatural experiences with the demons of puberty.

Woolfe's thesis is drawn from one of the basic seedlings of body horror and he dives in with glee, disgust and fascination. Sexuality is terrifying, mysterious, taboo and endlessly enticing. The physical metamorphoses that lead to the desire for, and the ability to participate in, sex are equally so. Billy's body is developing in a way that frightens and excites him. But the immediate concern is the succubus under his bed. While she is "more beautiful than catwoman even," she has fangs and plans to "suck his bones dry." Billy can't deal with it on his own and enlists the help of the school weirdo, Herskel Fishmashin, who, being so ostracized and odd, has experience with the supernatural. Their adventures commence. Herskel is played by a particularly expressive puppet, and the succubus is played by an inventive and somewhat terrifying puppet. Billy's first girlfriend (spoiler: he survives puberty physically but traumatized), Sabrina, is played by a puppet who is not only a sight gag and oddly erotic, but also a clever metaphor. Never before has such a cast been assembled on a stage.

The Strange and Eerie Memoirs of Billy Wuthergloom is a 25th anniversary remount of the original Dora award winning production. For a decades old play, Billy Wuthergloom feels timeless. Coming of age narratives span the ages and have a universality built in, but it is rare when one connects so intensely. When a performer becomes the embodiment of childlike wonder, terror and resilience. The copious '80s references help, as do the horror elements, the undead do not fade away. The humour, and Billy Wuthergloom is sidesplittingly funny, is that of self-recognition, of identification. We all knew the class outcast, the loony, and a lucky few of us got to befriend them, some of us were them, all of us recognize our collective mistreatment of their uniqueness. We all went through the confusing surge of hormones that triggered disturbing but eagerly anticipated/dreaded mutations. We all puzzled our way through the absurdities and ecstasies of sex. We all had a monster in the closet or under the bed. Woolfe's talent is to translate this primordial experience into a creepy comic romp that climaxes with more pathos and catharsis than one ever expects from puppets, horror or even most musicals.

There were a few technical issues on opening night, puppets can be very temperamental, but Woolfe was quick witted enough to turn it to his advantage. There was no fourth wall to break. Billy had drawn us so deeply into his confidence, that when an audience member laughed at an appropriate inappropriate moment, the withering, Lupone-worthy, glare of disapproval not only garnered more laughter but was wincingly painful. We had become very protective of Billy and his dilemmas. Director Mairi Babb (The House at Poe Corner, Inge(new)) makes full use of the limited space and whoever is responsible for Welch's priceless punky stone-faced interactions with Woolfe deserves one of Bacall's spare Tonys.  Billy reads from the children's classic Danny is a Werewolf Now, rides a wet dream roller coaster, blithely performs sleight of hand without calling attention to the skill it requires, monologues a magnificent ode to sideshows and sings my new favourite song, "Beware the Clown," all while keeping the overarching narrative zipping along to that aforementioned emotional crescendo. All before lulling us into dread and departure with a closing, blood-curdling ballad. 

As he took his final bow, one could see that Woolfe had been on an emotional journey. Regardless of what personal resonances and/or fabrications he plumbed in creating and performing this ode to our most fearful and intimate impulses, Billy Wuthergloom became universal. And we get to take that journey with him.