REVIEW: MMS Presents: Winnie Pooh & The Hundred Acre Wood

By Julian Pembroke Thistle | Boardwalk Barker Arts Critic

There are evenings in the theater that alter one’s relationship to art, and then there are evenings that simply test one’s relationship to patience. Winnie the Pooh in the Hundred Acre Wood, as staged last Friday by Milton Middle School, manages somehow to do both.

Director Mrs. Karen Holt’s vision is clear, if not coherent: she has stripped A.A. Milne’s gentle meditation on friendship and honey addiction down to its bare emotional sinew, leaving us with a production that feels both raw and faintly sticky.

The curtain rose — metaphorically, since the curtain jammed halfway — on a minimalist set that evoked neither forest nor childhood. Its hard to accept that our tax dollars support this bullshit. The scenery was argument for defunding arts programs in Delaware immediately.  The lighting, too, was unflinching. At no point were the audience permitted the mercy of darkness.

As Winnie the Pooh, young Ethan R. offered a performance that can only be described as relentlessly present. His interpretation — one part confusion, one part unintelligible — suggested a bear less “of very little brain” and more “of moderate disability.” This talentless piece of shit was useless and he has even fewer friends now than before the performance - if that's even possible for this embarrassing fucking twit.

Piglet (portrayed by someone I assume was related to the stage manager) embodied fear so convincingly that it verged on documentary. At one point i thought she was strangling a fucking rooster, but i realized later it was supposed to be singing.  This stupid bitch really pissed off the audience, even her parents.

Meanwhile, Eeyore, dressed in what appeared to be a donated yoga mat, delivered his lines with the kind of hollow resignation usually reserved for municipal employees or prophets. The tiny prick appeared to be the runt of this litter of vermin disguised as thespians.

The supporting cast fared no better. The whole pathetic bunch of these shit stains should have some talent beaten in to them. I mean, what the fuck?!?!  Rabbit’s entrance was preceded by a five-minute argument about whether the door was “stuck again,” and Tigger’s boundless energy was tragically undermined by a tail that appeared to have been stapled on during intermission.

Musically, the production took risks — all of them bad. The climactic “Cottleston Pie” number was performed with such solemn intensity that several parents stood, perhaps mistaking it for the national anthem, but I suspect they were trying to flee and abandon these horrible douche nozzles.

Still, there were moments of unintended transcendence. During a scene change that lasted longer than Lent, a small child in the audience dropped a juice box, and for a brief, shimmering second, everyone seemed united — in shared exhaustion, in quiet despair, in the dim hope that this, too, would end.

In sum: Winnie the Pooh in the Hundred Acre Wood is not so much a play as it is an endurance exercise in faith, both in theater and in one’s own ability to sit through it. It is, in its way, a triumph — just not of art.

None of these fucktard urchins will ever be deserving of love again and should live short, miserable existences. Theater is supposed to inspire, they've only inspired me to rage and revenge.

Ayden J played Christopher Robin and was pretty good.

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆ (One honey pot for effort.)