The Ontario Theatre Review: Wonderful Joe
By Ross
Ronnie Burkett builds worlds from wood, string, and spirit, and his Wonderful Joe is no exception. I’ve been wanting to make Joe’s acquaintance ever since I first heard about the show when it played in downtown Toronto, and now, after a drum roll and a burst of some lively music, we watch with growing excitement as he climbs up and into his contraption, ready to take us on an adventure, and we are all ready for it.
The show begins quietly: a man and his sleepy old dog, Mister. Joe stands with his heart as unlocked as his fifth-story walk-up door, greeting his landlord and friend Sonny with a bright and heartfelt “Good morning.” But the news isn’t good. His apartment has been sold, and he has a month to move before the block gives way to gleaming condos. This is the street where Joe has lived most of his life, and where others see graffiti and garbage, he sees art and possibility. And as he talks, fast, funny, and full of stories, we can’t help but fall for this sweet-natured old gay man and the wildly varied people who make up his world.
Having lived and grown old on the street, Joe spends his evenings sitting on the same bench with his companion, looking at the stars and feeling just how lucky he has been. Most people would pass by this gentle soul with nary a glance or thought, but Burkett (Little Dickens), the creator and performer of Wonderful Joe, asks us to stop and lean in, to really look and see what Joe sees. In this small miracle of a show, now running on the Grand Theatre’s intimate Auburn Stage and brought to life by his Theatre of Marionettes, the world of Joe opens up vividly. We see the crumbling world through the eyes of an aging gay man whose imagination refuses to fade, even as his home and history are being paved over for sparkling condos. It’s funny, rough-edged, and gorgeously kind, unpacking a portrait of survival and optimism woven in simple strings and light.
Orphaned, toughened, and tenderized by time, Joe has found poetry in the alley’s ugliness, transforming trash into glitter and grace. Burkett’s storytelling flows like an endearing conversation; quick, cheeky, and heartbreakingly alive, and his puppet hands bring a dozen souls to life so vividly that you forget they’re carved and strung. Mister, Joe’s perpetually snoozing companion, is pure magic: a marvel of design, manipulation, and tenderness whose every movement earns a smile. Around Joe, a cast of wildly diverse characters drift before us, the flamboyant sex workers, the kind social worker, the angry alley theatre producer, and a runaway girl who finds, for one night, the courage to take an unexpected leap, assisted by Joe and his Mister.
The man behind the puppets certainly knows how to create a world filled with personality and energy, where fantasy and kindness can intersect, at the corner of trouble and change. And Burkett’s wild imagination cracks that pavement open wide. The back alley becomes a stage for a street-poetry slam by the Trash Alley Ensemble that shines a light on resilience and defiance, before we tumble and join a crew of childhood fantasy characters, including a rambunctious gay Saint Nick, an overworked, muscular tooth-fairy working a double shift, and an ethically authentic Jesus shaking it up and cheering on a seductive, feathered Mother Nature performing a celestial cabaret song and dance that is unforgettable.
These scenes could so easily tip into chaos, but under Burkett’s touch, they soar over the moon, balancing satire and sincerity with impossible ease. Some of the jokes are racy and hilarious, but ultimately, it is as kind and gentle as Wonderful Joe. It’s not the fastest-paced show in town, but it is superbly delivered by this one-man puppet master, bringing so many characters to life that we almost lose track. The play’s score, lovingly composed by John Alcorn, hums through the space like an open-hearted lullaby, while Kevin Humphrey’s lighting catches each flicker of memory and makes it shine.
By the end, when Joe sinks sweetly down onto his bench and thanks the stars for a life that has been both bruised and blessed, something in us softens. The man behind me whispers to his companion, “Oh, here come the tears!” and he isn’t wrong. Wonderful Joe isn’t just about change or loss; it’s about the stubborn persistence of joy, about seeing beauty where others refuse to look, and living in optimism and connection. It’s a love letter to the overlooked, a lullaby for the lonely, and a caring wink to the dreamers who keep finding light in the cracks. Ronnie Burkett, once again, reminds us that kindness can be theatrical, and that a puppet, in the right hands, can hold the glorious soul of a city singlehandedly.
