Theater Review: Long Beach Playhouse's "Kimberly Akimbo" (2026)

Families can be an odd bunch. While most can find a happy middle, some stand out thanks to their odd quirks that make them, to put it generously, a handful. The story of Kimberly Akimbo takes this concept to the extreme with a drama centered around unreliable parents and a daughter with an even worse go of things. Kimberly Lovaco isn’t your ordinary teen bumming around New Jersey. She has a rare disease that causes her to age more quickly than her peers. Concern emerges as her mortality intersects with typical high school rituals like first loves while dealing with a pregnant mother who may be a bit paranoid. The results may be the material for your typical farce, but what separates this drama is its ability to find heart within the absurd by creating a character study that may never feel totally normal, but has its heart in the right place.

On the surface, the most disorienting element is the protagonist (Spencer Kayden). She doesn’t look like anyone in her environment. Despite appearing more adult, she has her own streak of immaturity to count for. This may be in part because her dad (Patrick Peterson) is hours late picking her up. She is freezing in a skating rink parking lot, unsure if she’ll get sick. Once he shows up, the excuses begin, and the story reveals its greater heart. As a teenager, most people hate their parents, but Kimberly might have a good case. She may be an only child, but there’s something neglectful about her life. They are selectively protective, yet never feel loving. Instead, they buy into quick fixes to cheer them up, believing that one day, they’ll get it right.

The contrast of the show is delicious in that Kimberly is a classic 90s nerd who hangs out with a kid who worships anagrams (Ben Primas). Maybe it’s the contrast to a complicated home life, but he’s comparatively a breath of fresh air, not ignoring her problems so much as showing her a way forward. Only, he’s easy to bully into doing whatever the nearest adult wants him to do. Given that it’s Kimberly’s aunt Pattie (Erin Rose), the scheme quickly goes south. She is the loose screw in a box of nuts. She’s been to jail and might have bad blood with many in the central story. Still, she’s also the over-the-top, go-for-broke comedy relief who joyfully breaks convention and demands everyone lighten up.

So where does the truth lie? Despite being closer to a drama, it would be unfair to discredit the pathos present in the story. Mother Debbie (Sallie Eskin) is a pregnant woman with the weirdest case of carpal tunnel (both hands!) who may seem helpless, but reacts in a way that highlights her independence amid the tragic helplessness. The story trades jabs, going from doses of light comedy and darker revelations while moving in a direction that never settles on conventional. Then again, how could a story this warped possibly end conveniently?

Long Beach Playhouse recently did a production in their upstairs theater that perfectly captured the intimacy of the piece with a small cast and even tinier set design, with many pieces doubling for home iconography and the school library. With a largely 90s soundtrack in tow, the eccentricity keeps the story from ever keeping the heavy topics from feeling too much for the audience, and the ability to really dig into these roles allows for a greater understanding of everybody’s function. Despite the assumption that everyone is detestable, the cast carries recognizable endearment for the small moments, allowing certain mistakes to be celebrated instead of mocked. Even so, it’s a tense story that knows how to escalate, eventually landing on some truly impressive plot twists.

Kimberly Akimbo these days may be more recognized for its Tony-winning musical, but the original version carries the same eccentric heart while asking audiences to consider their own flawed families and whether this odd cast of sorts is really that bizarre. With themes of teenage angst intertwining with familial squabbles and economic woes, it’s easy to notice how anyone would come up short in dire times. Even so, what level of forgiveness is too much? The show challenges that line and delivers something wholly unique that may baffle some, but definitely elevates itself above the novel premise into a heartfelt study of living life to the fullest when the options aren’t always there. It’s beautiful, absurd; it’s everything that makes us human.  

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