Kimberly Akimbo Review: Melbourne Theatre Company
- Jacqui Dwyer
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 1 day ago
Cake pops, tinsel streamers and Smash Mouth... the foyer of The Melbourne Arts Centre warmly beckoned us into the bright and bubbly world of Kimberly Akimbo. This 5-time Tony Award winning 2022 musical is a lovingly crafted 90s time capsule, injected with relentless hope and infectious joy. The almost rebellious act of recklessly chasing this joy, spearheads the story. New student, Kimberly, navigates a fresh start in New Jersey, along with her impending mortality; she lives with a rare genetic disorder that causes her body to age four times faster than normal with an average life expectancy of 16. As the curtain rises, having planted us firmly in 1999, we’re immediately thrust into a landscape of bold shapes, vibrant hues and sparkling personalities.

Mitchell Butel’s playful direction makes this show so real and healing to watch. I never felt preached at, only invited to sit back and have a fun adventure with a killer cast of characters.
Marina Prior as Kim immediately grounds us with authenticity and warmth within the larger-than-life world. She is convincingly teen but with an old soul quality that accentuates her distance from the world around her. Her voice is gorgeous, although I did miss the emotional dagger-twist of a primal belt during her ballad moments. Still, she carries this show with nuance and ease.
The school’s show choir quartet brings sharp pace right off the bat with tight harmonies, cooler-than-school choral-ography and a massage-chain of unrequited love. Despite wanting nothing more than to be included, this group would be my pick for the life of the party.
It has to be said: Casey Donovan on roller skates was not on my 2025 bingo card, but by golly does she pack a punch and a half in this powerhouse role. Her ballsy (literally) anthem “Better” was chock full of hilarious whiplash and deliciously extravagant vocals that won us over, despite the grossly self-serving method of success she preaches.
Darcy Wain’s Seth is the absolute heart centre of this story for me. Joy in its purest human form, he’s unashamedly generous, constantly beaming and endearingly honest in a way that allows for ‘you can’t say that’ commentary to land with more than just shock factor for the sake of it. Christie Whelan Browne as Kim’s mother (Pattie) was also a stand out, skirting the line between Disney Channel “cool mom” and conflicted parent with so much heart.
Speaking of heart, Jeanine Tisori’s score is a character in and of itself, making us gasp, snort, cringe, groove (and she grooves hard – this band slaps.). Led by Broadway and beyond musical director Kym Purling, this dynamic score was in expert hands. Particular shout out to the rhythm section (Patrick Schmidli on bass and Tom Doublier on drums) for the best beats for in-seat-boogies, and to the guitarist (Aaron Syrjanen) for acoustic warmth, and for braving the ukulele to give us the gorgeous ‘Great Adventure’.
The set, designed by Jonathon Oxlade, is primarily white and hollow, creating space for Matt Scott’s emotive lighting design to shine through. The space is eventually filled with cozy snow-globe home pods and locker-come-bookshelves full of bright pastel hues, not to mention an entire cast of roller-skaters having a serious boogie. Props to choreographer Amy Campbell for making this ensemble look smooth and natural on the ice!
This vibrant study of the human condition is playing at The Arts Centre Melbourne until the 30th August, and is a must-see for anyone who needs a nostalgic hit of quirky 90s joy (and I reckon that’s just about everyone at this stage!)
