Gino Ochello and The Company of The Karate Kid – The Musical | Photo by Dahlia Katz
I’ll try to be as fair and informative as I can. I know that some people will unironically love this, to each his own, but folks, be forewarned, I’m gonna get snarky. Not a tone I aspire to, but it’s an honest reflection of my feelings towards this, wow… bombastically mediocre show. The Karate Kid – The Musical, presented here by Mirvish, is precisely the sort of overwrought yet empty spectacle I imagine people are envisioning when they say they don’t like musicals.
You know the story. Cocky yet insecure teenager from New Jersey moves into a California bungalow with his single mom, falls for a rich girl with a heart of gold, gets bullied by martial art brandishing thugs, befriends a elderly Japanese maintenance worker who teaches him karate and life lessons and he eventually defeats the baddies in a tournament.
This is essentially the same plot as the hit 1984 film, which I liked well enough as a kid, but was never compelled to revisit (though I did watch two seasons of Cobra Kai and found it fun). Original screenwriter Robert Mark Kamen returns to pen a hokey book for this abysmal theatrical treatment. Drew Gasparini’s songs do nothing to elevate this thin, culturally tone-deaf effort.
As each new song started, I thought: oh god, knowing I was in for two to three minutes of painful stagnation. For a story set in the 1980s, it has barely a whiff of nostalgia for the sound of the period and no solid identity of its own beyond a generic, early aughts musical theatre vibe—embellished by cringe-inducing, plinky-plonky strains that are meant to evoke… Asian-ness.
The uninspired music is blah, but the lyrics (good lord, the lyrics!) are on a whole ‘nother level of trite clumsiness. Here’s one: “There isn’t a handbook on how to be the widowed single mother to a son who shines as brightly as he does.” That, seriously, is a lyric Gasparini wrote. And yes, it is as cumbersome a mouthful to sing and as laughable to hear as it is to read.
This whole effort could almost work as a parody of iconic 80s movies turned musical. Bob’s Burgers fans will understand when I say: This seems like it was written by Tina and Gene Belcher to be performed at their school. Except, no, “Work Hard or Die Trying, Girl” has more genuine charm and camp appeal.
Matt Mills The Company of The Karate Kid – The Musical | Photo by Dahlia Katz
I feel badly for the performers who are giving it their all here and deserve much better material. As Daniel LaRusso, the fiesty protagonist, Gino Ochello bounds about with as much endearing charisma as he can muster, but like everyone else he’s stuck going through cliched musical theatre gestures—raising his arms emphatically, looking majestically out over the audience, that awkward little run-stumble-pose thing that’s theatrical shorthand for “I’m a clumsy boy with gumption and false bravado who will eventually grow into myself.”
As his warm yet no-nonsense mother, Lucille LaRusso, Jodie Jacobs has the suitable bad-ass mom energy and a great voice, but has to sing stuff like the line mentioned above. Finley Oliver, as new-found friend Freddie Fernandez, gets to be little more that a tightly-wound bundle of screechy enthusiasm and Abigail Amin as love interest Ali Mills is spunky enough, but doesn’t have any writing of substance to work with—her rebellion against snooty parents seems tacked on as an afterthought.
As Daniel’s nemesis, Johnny Lawrence, Joe Simmons gets to play some empathy by the end, but poses only an awkward, hackneyed hint of a threat throughout. I was sort of into Matt Mills as the sociopathic, Vietnam vet turned sensei, John Kreese, running his evil Cobra Kai dojo. He’s actually kinda sexy here and I wish that had been played up a bit more—the “Strike First, Strike Hard, No Mercy” mantra has a certain, uh, associative potential through his smouldering persona.
The intended stand-out here is Adrian Pang as Mr Miyagi. Like Pat Morita who originated the role for the film, there is a blend of stand-up humour and pathos with some old man bad-assery of his own. He gets very schtick-y here and I rolled my eyes more than I chuckled. Though I could sense him tugging at my heartstrings with a tragic backstory, I didn’t really care. He, like everyone else, deserves better writing.
Of the many appalling flourishes of director Amon Miyamoto’s conception here, which boasts plenty of embarrassingly unmotivated and ridiculous choreography by Keone and Mari Madrid (the American soldiers in Vietnam procession is a choice), the most outrageous blunder is the Magical Dancing Ancestor Ensemble! The embodiment of chi? Miyagi’s literal lineage? It’s hard to parse, but they are clearly meant to represent the spirit behind the martial arts, uh… wizardry. They are neither elegant nor poignant, but are, at best—goofy and discomfiting, at worst—utterly distracting.
I stared in bewildered astonishment as they inhabited car fenders and fence posts during the familiar “Wax On, Wax Off” sequence. They full on ruin Daniel’s climactic victory kick at the end of the tournament, quashing any potential catharsis with their awkward crowding. Like the rest of the fighting (consultation by Kev McCurdy), it’s not stylized enough or raw enough or well blocked enough to make any sort of impression whatsoever.
Peter Nigrini (projection design) and Bradley King (lighting design) try their best, but none of the palm tree silhouettes, neon outlines or textured shafts of light add much dimension to Derek McLane’s flat and aesthetically lazy scenic design which features a stale array of Japanese screens. Even the modular set piece—depicting the LaRusso’s small bungalow which rotates to reveal Mr Miyagi’s tool room—never convinced me of lived-in spaces or has any striking visual character. Like the material, it just feels tacky and cheap.
While I was pretty meh on another Mirvish presentation currently on stage, Hell’s Kitchen, by comparison to The Karate Kid – The Musical, it now feels like a glittering, emotionally resonant achievement.
The Karate Kid – The Musical
September 29 to November 1, 2026
Princess of Wales Theatre
(300 King Street West)
2 hours, 30 minutes (includes intermission)
Gino Ochello & Adrian Pang in The Karate Kid – The Musical | Photo by Manuel Harlan