A Visit with the Puppet Master
Some puppets broke the (local) internet recently in what appeared to be a professional television commercial for the Bear’s Worst Show Ever, starring puppet versions of Scott McCord and Yukon Jack. It turned out to be one amazing contest entry for the “Worst Ad Ever.”
It didn’t win the $10,000 prize.
Puppetsmith Trevor Duffy says he was surprised, given all the work put into it (each puppet DJ took about 30 hours to make; you can watch the video below), all the hype and positive comments afterwards – but there is a bright side: In the manner of American Idol runners-up often doing better than the winners, the Bear promptly put Duffy on retainer for future marketing campaigns.
“So we didn’t win the contest, but we won a marketing contract,” Duffy says.
This was just one project the 37-year-old puppeteer and his partners Danny Jaycock and Simon Gushulak have been making an impact with. They write some of their own material, and often team up with Edmonton comedians, musicians and filmmakers, while developing their own brand of puppet comedy improv. Acts include the live children’s show The Imaginarium that comes with its own portable stage. They do music videos, the latest for Fire Next Time. They made puppet musicians for folk singer Colleen Brown, and giant battle-bots for the metal band Striker. Duffy used to be a musician (for the band Dark Sand), so he has connections. In 2013, he built 26 puppets for the show Felt Up on Bite TV, created by comedian Simon Glassman (below), in which various guests talked about embarrassing sexual secrets – in puppet form. It was a scream.
Perhaps the biggest deal of all is their family show The Durflings that’s in development for a TV series.
These puppets sure are making a lot of noise, for puppets.
GigCity recently paid a visit to the puppetmaker’s workshop – where the magic happens.
Like Geppetto with his beloved Pinocchio, Duffy is passionate about his art. On how he got started, some 17 years ago, he says, “As soon as I turned this flat piece of fabric into this thing that had life, I had this amazing feeling: Wow, you can actually do that! Over time, I’ve learned new techniques, tried new things, thrown things out, time and time again to the point where we’re producing these …”
Here he gestures to a collection of foam homunculi displayed along one wall of his rumpus room. The craftsmanship is meticulous, the characters vivid and maybe a little spooky. There’s Klaatu and Loopy Durfling, sitting next to Buck and Brody Brock (another set of puppet radio hosts), various birds and fuzzy monsters – and they’re all staring at me. That they’re “Muppety” is a compliment, Duffy says, and more a description of the style of puppet than anything else.
“Every time I make a new one,” he continues, “I get that same feeling. As soon as you put those eyes on, you’re like, wow, this thing has life! Put the puppeteer’s hand in and start puppeteering.”
Before a quick tour of the workshop, to see the “Glue Room” and the “Assembly Room,” Duffy sticks his arm up one of his favourite characters and demonstrates. While he’s no ventriloquist, it’s uncanny how the character takes over. That’s exactly what he says, “It takes you over. They speak and you kind of remove yourself. You’re thinking of this guy’s backstory, and relating him to other characters. People watching are in awe. I could lock eyes on you, and be working the puppet, and you’d be looking at the puppet.”
Another favourite character – especially with his two-year-old son – is named “Poops the Goose.”
The puppeteer explains, “The Book of Poops opens up, and Loopy and Leena have to sing with Poops the Goose in order for Poops the Goose to poop them treasure.”
Coming soon to a children’s show near you.
