Louise Pitre and the cast of Kimberly Akimbo | Photo by Emelia Hellman
So, this musical has won a few Tonys, which sort of mystifies me. I don’t think it’s an especially well-written show. David Lindsay-Abaire’s book and lyrics (based on his play) have some clever moments, but the humour—and a lot of the heart—is kinda hokey. Jeanine Tesori’s music is unmemorable and occasionally a bit stilted. This is certainly intentional—awkwardness is a running theme for the characters in Kimberly Akimbo, presented by Mirvish, so Tesori and Lindsay-Abaire have sought to emulate the random rhythms of casual speech. While its charms were mostly lost on me, I can recognize the qualities that audiences are embracing.
I really do appreciate the intention here—to take a dark, sad, ugly situation and find within it a giddy celebration of life. Conceptually, this is a heartfelt farce. Kimberly Lavaco (Louise Pitre) is a sixteen year old girl with a very rare disease that causes her to age four to five times faster than average. She goes to high school and has the usual teenage frustrations with family, but her body is elderly. Most with her condition, we learn, don’t live past sixteen, so that cloud hangs over the story.
Family idiosyncrasy and dysfunction are at the forefront here, defining Kimberly’s home life. Dad (Cyrus Lane) is an alcoholic, Mom (Tess Benger) is pregnant with both hands in casts, her Aunt Debra (Kristen Peace) is a wild, rebellious sort with a sordid past who press-gangs Kimberly’s friend group into a criminality with a cheque-washing scheme. Of the many cartoonish portraits here, Peace is one of the most compelling. Her manic energy and unfiltered running commentary were responsible for my few genuine laughs. The training montage song “How to Wash a Cheque” is also one of the catchier numbers.
Kimberly’s clique, her band of eccentric outsiders, are gearing up for a Dreamgirls medley for the school choir. They have a whole love quadrangle going on, with mistaken gay-straight assumptions, each of them pining for the wrong person. It seems a little weird that these kids who grew up together in this rural New Jersey county wouldn’t know each other’s deal, so I don’t really buy their situation, but the foursome—Jake Cohen, Kyle Jonathon, Taylor Lovelace and Luca McPhee—are super endearing and giving it their all.
A budding romance forms between Kimberly and her nerdy classmate, Seth (Thomas Winiker). He spouts Klingon, plays the tuba and is obsessed with anagrams. (The titular Akimbo is a one he crafted for Kimberly’s full name.) Their dynamic is cute and I really wanted him to be a favourite of mine. Winiker is suitably adorable, but like so much of this venture, his whole awkward vibe is too contrived for me to properly invest in.
As much as it can, Pitre’s performance really grounds this for me. At her school locker, lounging on a beanbag chair in the library or at her family’s kitchen table—there is something about the way she inhabits each space that just sells this offbeat, silly, sad reality. She’s nails that hormonal blend of uncertainty and gumption. Her authenticity is thrown into relief by all the schtick that surrounds her.
While Louise Bourret’s understated costumes convey character with some nuance (so many great sweaters!), several design elements in director Robert McQueen’s production were alienating to me. Specifically, Gillian Gallow’s huge, oppressive set and the way Andrea Lundy lights it. The practical scenic elements (home, school and skating rink) are fine, but that massive framing structure that surrounds everything is distracting and a little oppressive. A wooden, house-shaped framework containing concentric layers of slats and lit garishly with neon colours gave me the impression that I was watching the action trapped in a barn rave.
I was surprised and intrigued by how mean some of the family dynamics got. I’d like to check out Lindsay-Abaire’s original play, perhaps it skews a little more naturalistic. I really did want to like this. It’s so well-meaning and scrambling all over itself to be my thing, but the sincere emotionality juxtaposed with broad sit-com aesthetics threw me off. I imagine, for those less bothered by such things, this might strike a deeper chord.
Kimberly Akimbo
January 15 to February 8, 2026
CAA Theatre
(651 Yonge Street)
2 hours, 25 minutes (includes intermission)
Louise Pitre in Kimberly Akimbo | Photo by Emelia Hellman