The Toronto Theatre Review: Bad Hats Theatre’s Narnia
By Ross
It all begins with music, glorious, generous music, bursting out into our laps on the Soulpepper stage. A joyful reprieve after braving the twinkling, crowded madness of the Distillery District’s Winter Wonderland. The performers spill out like a festive parade, fiddles and guitars in hand, not quite in character, but fully ready to wrap the audience in a holiday embrace. Bad Hats Theatre doesn’t simply retell the first book of the Narnia Chronicles, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; they reimagine it with such ingenuity and theatrical joy that you feel the room tilt over into some kind of magic before the story even begins. It’s a remarkable feat, especially when I consider how even the mighty Shaw Festival over in Niagara-on-the-Lake shrugged off that magic, struggling with this same tale this past summer. Here, against all logistical odds, Narnia feels beyond alive.
Set during wartime, the story is cast as a memory play for the Professor, portrayed with grounded, generous warmth by Astrid Van Wieren (Broadway’s Come From Away), who slips easily and eagerly between storyteller, guardian, and, in a theatrical robed flourish, Aslan himself. Cloaked and transformed, she becomes the lion who guides the four displaced children, a re-found family not by blood, but by bond, toward restoring the seasons in the frozen land of Narnia. It’s a gesture that could feel cumbersome, but in Van Wieren’s hands, it is effortless and surprisingly moving, anchoring the stage’s whirling invention in emotional truth. But I’m getting ahead of myself….
That stage, it must be said, rarely stays still. Designer (and costumer) Shannon Lea Doyle (Buddies/Native Earth’s The Born-Again Crow…) builds a constantly shifting world out of rolling staircases and library-like structures that seem, at first glance, almost too solid to transform. But director/writer/co-choreographer Fiona Sauder (Bad Hats’ Alice in Wonderland), with co-choreographer Rohan Dhupar (Cawthra’s Chicago), harnesses that kinetic energy beautifully. The movement is purposeful, smart, and often dazzling; the stairs swirl, the cast sails through transitions with ease, and the story unfolds with the clarity and confidence of a team that understands theatrical rhythm better than most. It’s ferociously captivating work.
The four children, Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and Peter, are beautifully drawn and delivered. Belinda Corpuz (Soulpepper’s Alligator Pie) gives Lucy the wide-eyed optimism the story depends on, grounded by sincerity and spirit rather than sugar. Landon Doak (Bad Hats’ Peter Pan) as Edmund is wonderfully human: not a villain, but a lonely boy aching to feel loved, seen, and believed in, an echo of Lucy’s own eventual longing. Matthew Novary Joseph and Sierra Haynes (Studio 58’s The Raft) bring an unexpected and refreshing dynamic to Peter and Susan. Instead of falling into gendered tropes, their roles swivel: Susan emerges as the warrior leader, full of conviction and moral fire, while Peter discovers a softer, caretaker core. It’s a subtle shift that deepens the story’s modern resonance.
And then we have the Witch, glittering and gloriously determined like a snow squall. Amaka Umeh (Soulpepper’s Three Sisters) is spectacular, sharp, charismatic, and fully in command of the room. Where Shaw’s production faltered, Umeh thrives. Her icy glamour and jazzy vocal power create a villain who is as funny as she is terrifying, wielding her magic wand with wicked delight while making Edmund feel, dangerously, like the most important child in the world. She walks the tonal tightrope perfectly and finds the formula to take us through.
And yet, it’s James Day (Stratford’s La Cage Aux Folles) who nearly steals the entire show. As Trumpkin, Reepicheep, and, yes, Kevin, he’s a walking spark plug of comic brilliance, shredding on electric guitar one moment and delivering perfectly absurd deadpan lines the next. “The sleigh won’t… sleigh” lands like a small comedic grenade, and the meta moment when his operation of the roller mouse is confronted and he simply answers, “I’m Kevin,” delights in its fourth-wall-breaking chaos. Matt Pilipiak (Orillia’s Every Brilliant Thing) and Jonathan Tan (Shaw’s On The Razzle), as Mr. B and Mr. B, bring irresistible sweetness to their scenes together, offering a gentle counterbalance of love and domestic comedy.
The score, lovingly composed by Soak, with music supervision, orchestrations, and arrangements by Jonathan Corkal-Astorga (Soulpepper’s De Profundis…), is charming, tuneful, and emotionally open; exactly the kind of music you want in a family-friendly holiday show. Logan Raju Cracknell’s lighting, Andrés Castillo-Smith’s sound design, and the ensemble’s actor-musicianship all contribute to an atmosphere that feels happily handcrafted and heartfelt. And initially, when the snow begins to fall, just as those swirling staircases reveal their full magical usefulness, you sense the entire audience leaning forward as one. For a moment, everyone becomes a child again, stepping through the wardrobe and realizing what really matters in this world, and theirs.
Bad Hats’ Narnia is a solidly formed story about found family, about being seen and believed in, and about the ways love can knit people together across fear, winter, and war. What makes this production so affecting is not just the ingenuity of its staging or the cleverness of its musical storytelling, but the generosity behind every choice. It invites us all in, children and adults alike, not with spectacle for spectacle’s sake, but with a kind of theatrical sincerity that feels increasingly pure and honest. By the time the snow melts away and hope returns to the land, the show has touchingly worked its way under your skin. You leave feeling lighter, a little braver, and somehow more connected to the strangers around you. Bad Hats Theatre and their well-conceived Narnia is adventurous, moving, and joyously inventive; a reminder of how transformative theatre can be when it trusts imagination as completely as this company does. Quite simply, it is “something like a dream.”
