The Real Story Behind Son of a Critch

One of my favorite television discoveries of the past year came from an unexpected source.

A friend recommended a Canadian comedy called Son of a Critch.

At first glance, it did not sound like a show that would immediately resonate with me. The series is based on comedian Mark Critch’s childhood growing up in Newfoundland during the 1980s. It follows a young boy navigating family life, Catholic school, friendships, bullies, first crushes, and the awkward realities of adolescence.

I figured it would be entertaining. What I did not expect was how familiar it would feel.

I grew up more than 2,000 miles away in St. Louis, Missouri. Mark Critch grew up in Newfoundland. We lived in different countries. Different communities. Different cultures.  Yet within a few episodes, I felt like I knew these people.

The Catholic school experience felt familiar. The teachers felt familiar. The family dynamics felt familiar. The desire to fit in while trying to figure out who you are felt very familiar.

My friend, who is Jewish, had a similar reaction. That got me thinking.

How does a story that is so specific to one place and one childhood manage to connect with audiences who grew up somewhere entirely different?

The answer reveals an important lesson about storytelling and why Son of a Critch became such a successful television series.

Before There Was a Television Show

Like many successful adaptations, Son of a Critch did not begin as a television show. It began as a funny memoir. Mark Critch first told the story of his childhood in a bestselling book.

I picked up on Amazon after I started watching the show last fall. It is a delightful and humorous read. I recommend checking it out. If you watch the show and read the book, you will see how it was natural to adapt the memoir to the show. 

The memoir provided the foundation for everything that followed. Long before television executives approved a series, long before actors were cast, and long before cameras rolled, Critch had already done the hardest part of storytelling. He told the story.

That may sound obvious, but it is one of the reasons books and memoirs continue to serve as fertile ground for adaptation. Great source material reduces uncertainty. 

The story has already been tested. The characters exist. The voice exists. The emotional journey exists. The creator has already demonstrated there is something worth paying attention to. The book is hilarious and it wouldn’t be hard for a TV executive to see it being adapted into a series.

In many ways, the memoir served as proof of concept, as well as the well to tap in telling stories episodically. Individual episodes are clearly based on stories told in the book. 

That is one reason I often encourage people to think differently about memoirs, archives, journalism, and other forms of source material. They are not simply creative works. They are development assets. Son of a Critch is a perfect example.

The Power of Specificity

One of the biggest myths in storytelling is the idea that broad stories appeal to broad audiences. The opposite is often true. The stories that resonate most deeply tend to be the ones that are unapologetically specific.

“Specificity provides access,” my friend Rob Fruend once told me in a different context. Well, I can build on that here. Specificity provides audience access to authenticity. 

Authenticity is audience gold.  This show has investment grade bullions of it because of its specificity of taking you into a Critch’s world in growing up in St. John’s and attending St. Bridgets grade school.   

Son of a Critch never tries to hide its Newfoundland roots. It embraces them. The accents, traditions, local references, and cultural quirks are not obstacles to audience connection. They are the reason audiences connect.

The show never feels manufactured to appeal to everyone. It feels authentic. That authenticity creates trust.

Viewers may never have visited Newfoundland. They may not understand every local reference. They may not have attended Catholic school, but they understand what it feels like to be embarrassed.

They understand what it feels like to want acceptance.

They understand what it feels like to have parents who love them but occasionally make life more complicated.

The emotional truth travels even when the geography does not. That is exactly what happened for me. I was not watching a story about Newfoundland. I was watching a story about growing up. My friend was not watching a story about Catholic school. He was watching a story about childhood.

The specifics drew us in. The characters and the emotions they experience keeps us there.

Why Canadian Television Gets This Right

As I wrote recently in a Media Lens article examining the Canadian television industry, many of Canada’s most successful shows share a common characteristic.

They are deeply rooted in place. Heartland embraces Alberta. Schitt’s Creek embraces small-town life. Kim’s Convenience embraces immigrant family experiences.

Son of a Critch embraces Newfoundland.

These shows do not attempt to erase their identity in pursuit of a larger audience.

They lean into it.

I suspect part of this comes from the unique Canadian production ecosystem.

Public broadcasters, provincial incentives, and a long-standing commitment to supporting domestic storytelling have created space for creators to tell local stories with confidence.

Ironically, those local stories often become global successes.

Why?

Because audiences are not searching for generic experiences. They are searching for authentic ones. The more honestly a creator portrays a particular world, the more likely viewers are to recognize pieces of their own lives inside it. Authenticity scales. Generic rarely does.

Ordinary Lives Are Extraordinary Stories

Another reason I love Son of a Critch is that it challenges a misconception I encounter regularly. Many people believe they do not have a story worth telling. They compare themselves to celebrities, athletes, politicians, or historical figures.

They assume storytelling value only exists in extraordinary lives. This series proves otherwise.

Mark Critch did not build the show around global events or larger-than-life accomplishments.

He built it around family dinners, school hallways, awkward moments, neighborhood characters, and childhood memories. Those experiences may seem ordinary. Yet audiences love them because of the humorously relatable way he shares them.

That should encourage anyone who has ever dismissed their own story as unimportant. The challenge is rarely finding a story. The challenge is recognizing one and telling it in a way that connects.

Stories exist all around us. Whether that is in our families, our communities, our careers, our archives, or in a favorite memory. 

The opportunity lies in learning how to identify and develop them professionally using great storytellers who know how to craft a good narrative that connects.

Why Memoirs Are Development Gold

One of the reasons memoirs continue to attract filmmakers and producers is that they solve so many development challenges from the start.

They already contain characters, conflict, emotional stakes, and, perhaps most importantly, a unique point of view or voice. 

Voice is difficult to manufacture. It is one of the most valuable ingredients in storytelling. Mark Critch has a unique voice and humorous way of looking at things. His story wouldn’t be anywhere without it. The same can be said for any well-crafted story.

When audiences respond to a memoir, they are often responding to the author’s unique perspective on the world. That perspective becomes a powerful foundation for adaptation.

A memoir is not simply a book. It is intellectual property that can become a television series, a film, a documentary, a podcast, a speaking platform, or something else entirely.

That does not mean every memoir becomes a hit show, but it does mean memoirs are often far more valuable than many people realize.

Son of a Critch demonstrates what can happen when strong source material meets thoughtful adaptation.

The Real Lesson Behind Son of a Critch

The real lesson behind Son of a Critch is not that every childhood story belongs on television. It is not that every memoir should become a series. It is not even that Canadian television is doing something right, although I believe it often is. The lesson is that authentic stories travel.

People connect with emotional truth, not geography, demographics, or some pre-set marketing categories. Sure, sometimes that drives the decision to move forward with a project from a studio business perspective, but that isn’t where the rubber hits the road. 

The more honest a story becomes, the more likely audiences are to see themselves in it. That is certainly what happened to me when I tuned in for the first time.

I grew up in St. Louis. Mark Critch grew up in Newfoundland. The friend who introduced me to the show came from an entirely different background in New York. Yet somehow all three of us found ourselves in the same story.

That is the magic of storytelling and that is the real story behind Son of a Critch.

About the Storytelling for ALL® Newsletter

The Storytelling for ALL LinkedIn Newsletter is a biweekly publication examining how stories are developed and brought to life professionally in today’s evolving storytelling economy.

Every other week, I explore the creative, ethical, and economic forces shaping films, television, and other story-based media through the lens of professional development, rights, collaboration, and long-term value.

Written primarily for filmmakers, journalists, writers, producers, and media entrepreneurs, the newsletter also serves public figures, rights holders, and media investors who want to understand how true stories move from lived experience to finished work.

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About Ron Watermon

Ron Watermon is a creator, builder, media entrepreneur, filmmaker, and the founder of STORYSMART. He writes about professional storytelling, media entrepreneurship, filmmaking, and the business of turning stories into valuable assets.

Ron is the author of STORYSMART Storytelling for ALL and is currently building STORYSMART STUDIOS, an independent media company dedicated to developing, producing, and owning profitable, enduring original media properties.

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