The show was hosted by two, dreary Ontario civil servants and a series of stuffed animals who neither moved nor spoke -- and yet played the starring roles. Much like the Ontario government.
Polka Dot Door, like other Ontario government shows such as the Math Patrol, Body Works or Sol, had that unmistakably bland 'do-as-we-say, is-good-for-you-no-questions' taint to it. But in a smiling, artless, stir-up-no-trouble-children way. The Canadian way.
The hosts never lasted long in their jobs. This timid little children's show would chew them up at an alarming rate.
Events in each episode were scheduled to the second, like the unionized ministry office TVO is. Our hosts would dutifully read children's stories at an exact time, monitored by a monolithic clock at centre stage. Each day had a different 'theme' and the hosts were forced to march in a small circle, often holding one of the stuffed animals, chanting inspirational songs about the day's theme. Like characters out of a Kafka tale, our civil servants would never leave the pink room or their slavery to the clock and woud babble incoherently about the polka dot door and the world beyond, glimpsed in short filmed sequences where the outside was shown (usually a shoe factory or a farm).
Periodically, everyone would hallucinate an apparition named 'Polkaroo.' Polkaroo would do mischieveous things like flip up Marigold's skirt, take a crap in the bookcase or hide his stash in Dumpty's pants.
Incidentally, I saw Dennis (one of the longer-running hosts) in a production of Godspell playing John the Baptist. He was pretty good.
Polka Dot Door, like other Ontario government shows such as the Math Patrol, Body Works or Sol, had that unmistakably bland 'do-as-we-say, is-good-for-you-no-questions' taint to it. But in a smiling, artless, stir-up-no-trouble-children way. The Canadian way.
The hosts never lasted long in their jobs. This timid little children's show would chew them up at an alarming rate.
Events in each episode were scheduled to the second, like the unionized ministry office TVO is. Our hosts would dutifully read children's stories at an exact time, monitored by a monolithic clock at centre stage. Each day had a different 'theme' and the hosts were forced to march in a small circle, often holding one of the stuffed animals, chanting inspirational songs about the day's theme. Like characters out of a Kafka tale, our civil servants would never leave the pink room or their slavery to the clock and woud babble incoherently about the polka dot door and the world beyond, glimpsed in short filmed sequences where the outside was shown (usually a shoe factory or a farm).
Periodically, everyone would hallucinate an apparition named 'Polkaroo.' Polkaroo would do mischieveous things like flip up Marigold's skirt, take a crap in the bookcase or hide his stash in Dumpty's pants.
Incidentally, I saw Dennis (one of the longer-running hosts) in a production of Godspell playing John the Baptist. He was pretty good.