Wait, why does Tim Hortons have a musical?

It’s a muggy Thursday morning in downtown Toronto, and writer Nick Green greets an eager group. About 40 social media influencers are crammed around him in a rehearsal space at the Elgin & Winter Garden Theatres. Many are holding the same thing: A red cardboard box of Timbits. 

The snack choice was no coincidence: All these people — and a similar-sized batch there just before them — were gathered to preview snippets of The Last Timbit: not just a new musical, but bafflingly, one created by Tim Hortons.

If that advertorial bent sounds like a confusing mix of church and state, you’re not alone. Green, the book writer in charge of crafting the play’s full story, seems to have some trouble keeping it straight himself.

“Thank you so much for being here,” he told the phone-toting crowd, smiling. “We really appreciate you using your following to extend the reach of this really special product — er, uh, show — for us.”

But that gaffe — though telling — was likely nothing more than a slip of the tongue. Green, an accomplished playwright in his own right, is joined by a genuine who’s-who of Canadian talent on the show, which premieres today and runs throughout the week. And in a difficult time for the industry, some say these kinds of projects could be a lifeline for Canadian creatives.

A Tim Hortons musical? Really?

Each cast and crew member interviewed for this article said they were impressed by the creative freedom they were given. The company allowed them to create a surprisingly beautiful play virtually unimpeded, they said — aside from some minor instruction on how to make a Tim Hortons BLT. 

That doesn’t mean the members were easy to convince from the start. When asked to join the project, they all asked a similar question: A Tim Hortons musical? Really?

After just a few rehearsals, though, they came around. And now, they hope their audience will, too.

“Oh, it’s for real, baby,” said Jake Epstein, a Broadway alumnus who plays the character Shane in The Last Timbit.

“I joined this show for a workshop before this production, and immediately I was like, ‘This is the real deal.'”

That “real deal” is a story veritably stuffed with images of Canadiana and brand-adjacent slogans. The plot is loosely inspired by the story of a group stuck inside a Sarnia, Ont., Timmies during a 2010 storm.

Its costumes suggest a raid of a Roots outlet store, and its songs pointedly reference snow and hockey games — with lyrics like, “We put our faith in a doughnut hole,” and of course, “Always fresh, always Tim Hortons.”  

Canadiana calling

As to why a coffee hawker would try to enter show business, the answer somewhat makes sense.

For one, 2024 is its 60th anniversary. That makes it a prime opportunity to celebrate the coffee giant’s success.

But it’s also true that in the intervening years, things haven’t been completely rosy for the double-double specialists.

A 2014 merger with Burger King — and subsequent acquisition of Popeyes — formed a new parent company: Restaurant Brands International. And as that company’s majority stakeholder, 3G Capital, is based in Brazil, the actual Canadian-ness of Canada’s biggest coffee chain has become somewhat muddied. 

How much that’s affected Tim Hortons isn’t exactly clear. In 2018, it plummeted from fourth to 50th place in a list of most trusted brands in Canada by research group Leger, but it recovered to 26th in the group’s most recent report. And it maintains a powerful hold on the cultural landscape — one so strong that politicians are still forced to play up their own love for it to court votes.

Either way, the company’s future depends on its continued proximity to Canadian identity, says Aleena Mazhar Kuzma, senior vice-president of ad agency Fuse Create.

“You’ve got tourists coming to Canada to have Tim Hortons, knowing that it’s a Canadian coffee brand,” she said. “So they’ve really got to continue that sort of brand strategy of being Canadian — without actually being Canadian.”

Pushing the envelope

Meanwhile, marketing stunts focusing on attention-grabbing oddities are becoming increasingly appetizing for companies.

The Last Timbit exists in the tradition of the “industrial musical,” a mid-century phenomenon where companies would stage shows for employees to build morale. But here, Timbit is playing for anyone willing to take a chance on it. 

Pushing the envelope is a good strategy, Mazhar Kuzma said. As seen by recent Tim Hortons collaborations — from a doughnut-themed Adidas sneaker drop to “Timbiebs” Timbits with Justin Bieber — the company is motivated to try new things.

And they seem to be paying off: standing out enough to warrant social media posts, free word-of-mouth publicity and a few good-news Canadian articles, with the brand’s name right in the headline.

A potential lifeline

Toronto-based journalist and theatre critic Aisling Murphy is far less cynical. Because while the advertising motivation is undeniable, it’s not done in a way that pulls the wool over anyone’s eyes. 

“Everyone is going into it saying, ‘This is the Doughnut Musical; this is the Tim Hortons ad that happens to have amazing people involved with it,'” she said.

And that’s happening in an especially dire time for entertainment in this country. As arts institutions shutter one by one, live theatre continues to struggle after devastating COVID-19 closures and inflation makes even the lumber to build sets nearly unattainably expensive, silly brand partnerships could prove to be a lifeline for Canadian creatives. 

“At least there’s a kind of proof of concept at this intersection between marketing and new musical theatre,” she said.

“Let’s try it out, let’s see how it goes. I think it’s a really interesting experiment at the very least, and I’m cheering it on as much as I can.”