Philly Fringe 2024: My Mother Once Read presents Hundred Acre Park

Storybook playbook

A musical, the play opens with a brightly-tuned introduction of the characters, animated by a cast of expressive puppeteers and played by oversized plush puppets (a knit and satisfyingly round owl took the cake). Sticking more or less to the storybook structure, though forgoing a narrator, Hundred Acre Park doesn’t waste any time into presenting a series of vignettes—mostly familiar stories, though with some new takes.

Riffing on the first chapter of Winnie the Pooh, the first of these vignettes is a floating encounter between Pooh (Skylar Jeffries) and a beehive. On his usual hunt for honey, Pooh spots a beehive high up in the neighboring tree and requisitions a few balloons Piglet (Felicity Mundy) happens to have on hand. Where before he was a little black raincloud, this time, Pooh has no charming ruses up his sleeve. Instead, the bees beg for clemency and implore Pooh to let the honey alone—after all, they’re facing existential threats such as colony collapse and rampant development. Their honey and hive are precious, and where else can they go in a park that is, actually, not one hundred acres?

Ah, says Pooh, I didn’t realize! His eyes freshly opened to the bees’ point of view, our bear resolves to not only cut back on honey but protect the bees.

Tales, tails, and takeaways

The story presents two themes that are woven throughout the production: the impact of individual actions and the value of considering different points of view continue to surface throughout the hour-long show.

This includes a retelling of another chapter, “In Which Eeyore Has a Birthday and Gets Two Presents”. The scene finds Eeyore (Gideon McDonald) sprawled in a pile of trash, moaning with a familiar and nostalgic gloom: “No tail, no birthday, and covered in trash.” When Pooh and Piglet happen upon their friend, they are shocked that his birthday has arrived uncelebrated, and they dutifully rush off to secure presents. When Pooh absentmindedly eats the Hostess HoneyBun and Piglet pops the balloon that each were planning to give as a gift, the day looks dark for Eeyore (a welcome anodyne for his chipper companions and perhaps the most relatable figure for trash-exhausted viewers). Vowing to cheer Eeyore up, Pooh and Piglet submit that perhaps clearing up the trash will help make him feel better. And lo and behold! In a Philadelphia trashcan ironically played by a Philadelphia recycling bin, Eeyore finds not only his tail but the joy of trash art and positive civic impact.

“One thing I can do”

Just as A. A. Milne was writing for children in 1926, Rose Farrell is writing for children in 2024. The context has changed dramatically, even from the chronological halfway mark of the Disney’s musical 1968 production. Robin (Madeline Burk) is wide-eyed and relentlessly ingenuous, having laid aside Christopher Robin’s serious air; Pooh has become more driven, more upbeat, and more solutions-oriented; while still in the dumps, Eeyore is less endearingly absentminded; perhaps most evidently, Piglet has evolved into a figure of both reasonable and relatable worries (though perhaps it’s the reviewer who’s become more of a worrier).

The puppets are mostly vehicles for their puppeteers, actors who do a fine job projecting their voices and expressions. This means that Pooh’s sunny attitude arrives with global warming-level force even in the back row of picnic blankets—not that it was an issue for all of the 3- to 5-year-olds in attendance, mind you.

Almost in place of whimsy, the show emphasizes the power of individuals, however small, to make a difference, however small, on the environment—however small.