REVIEW: A sublime Menchu Lauchengco-Yulo in an askew ‘Kimberly Akimbo’

REVIEW: A sublime Menchu Lauchengco-Yulo in an askew ‘Kimberly Akimbo’

First off, the big question Filipino theatergoers must be asking: How is Menchu Lauchengco-Yulo in the currently running Asian premiere of Kimberly Akimbo in Singapore?

In a word—sublime. Playing the titular character of a teenager burdened with a prematurely aging body, Lauchengco-Yulo is a portrait of actorly intelligence. Onstage at the Victoria Theatre, where the Tony-winning musical runs until Nov. 2 under production company Pangdemonium, she is far and away the clearest presence—not only in terms of basic intelligibility, but, more crucially, in terms of articulating her character’s emotional details and mapping out its psychological trajectory.

In Kimberly Akimbo, the protagonist is affected by a genetic disorder that gives her the physical appearance of an elderly woman even though she’s only about to turn 16. This clinical affliction supplies a convenient metaphor for the larger world she inhabits: one where people never really act, or at least feel, their age; where the adults are constantly unreliable and the kids are mostly left on their own to navigate the project of growing up. In Kimberly’s case, she has to deal with parents who have never come to terms with their daughter’s condition, and an aunt who is a receptacle of trouble, in addition to being the odd-looking new kid in town at the story’s start.

Lauchengco-Yulo captures all that in a performance that’s so grounded and well thought out, the music (by Jeanine Tesori and David Lindsay-Abaire) seems to emanate straight out of her thoughts. One all but forgets she’s a grown woman in makeup; you completely buy her Kimberly’s adolescent worries, her fleeting moments of joy, her sense of isolation stemming partly from living a timeline separate from her peers.

Well-designed show

Unfortunately, the same can’t exactly be said for the rest of the production helmed by Pangdemonium cofounder and co-artistic director Tracie Pang. To be clear, it is a well-designed show: Taken together, Eucien Chia’s set, James Tan’s lights, Leonard Augustine Choo’s costumes, and Jing Ng’s soundscape succeed not only in evoking the musical’s suburban American settings, but also in establishing a distinct, presiding mood for these settings. You get that it’s supposed to be a story about a small town filled with people who, on any given minute, are never truly happy—but try their best to mask their sadnesses.

Evidently, Kimberly Akimbo is a tragicomedy, though it frequently keeps its true feelings close to its chest. And Pang’s production aces the comedy. Frances Lee, as the protagonist’s Aunt Debra, for instance, is a hoot in her two big numbers, in which she ropes Kimberly and her classmates into a check fraud scheme (the actress’ lack of vocal heft for the role is an altogether different matter).

Short on tragedy

It’s in doing tragedy that this production conspicuously comes up short. Consider the musical’s elementary premise: The life expectancy of people with Kimberly ’s condition is supposedly 16—which is the age she hits in the show. Much as the musical tries to act cheery, it also doesn’t hide the implication that Kimberly will die sooner or later. It’s the sword of Damocles hovering ominously above an ostensibly low-stakes affair.

Yet, in Pang’s Kimberly Akimbo, the actors orbiting the protagonist don’t seem to have fully grasped the aforementioned implication, even though their individual songs—their characters’ internal monologues made legible to the audience—are brimming with such complicated feelings on matters like self-worth, parenthood, and mortality. These are songs laden with the characters’ traumas and doubts, set against the broader tapestry of a generation constantly failing its children—the breakdown of the family unit, if you will. Pang’s production doesn’t really mine the richness of all that text and subtext, resulting in a panoply of capable turns that lack satisfying, emotional liftoffs.

Rebekah Sangeetha Dorai, for example, is amusing as Kimberly’s emotionally blundering mother, but doesn’t entirely do dramatic justice to her big solo (and arguably the musical’s most gorgeous song) “Father Time.” Similar fates befall Benjamin Chow, otherwise convincing as Kimberly’s alcoholic, always-disappointing dad, in his songs “Happy for Her” and “Hello Baby”; and Zachary Pang, Kimberly’s geeky love interest, especially when he laments how he’s always been the “good kid.”

Inadequately articulated emotions

One could argue that the musical thrives on subtlety and small emotions, but in this production, the emotions aren’t so much small and subtle as they are inadequately articulated. The show lands plenty of laughs—but doesn’t deliver a solid enough dramatic punch to make it truly succeed as tragicomedy. To borrow a lyric, it all seems “a little bit askew.”

Unless, of course, Lauchengco-Yulo is centerstage, in which case the production promptly recenters its dramatic axis, and the viewer easily attains a full appreciation of the musical’s elegant, psychological contours. One could say she’s the glue that keeps the ensemble theatrically cohesive; in scene after scene, she helps heighten the stakes while keeping the story firmly planted in a believable make-believe world. Whatever weaknesses in the material—for example, the hazily sketched characters of Kimberly’s classmates—are swiftly forgiven. With time, perhaps the production will grow more profound and hit that sweet balance of funny and sad—a balance its lead actress has already achieved.

 

Tickets:
Fri / Sat Evenings (Peak)
Standard: S$110, S$90, S$70, S$50
Sun / Tue/ Wed / Thu / Matinees (Off Peak)
Standard: S$95, S$75, S$55, S$35
Show Dates: Oct 17 to November 2, 2025
Venue: Victoria Theatre, Singapore
Running Time: approximately 2 hours and 30 minutes (with a 15-minute intermission)
Creatives: Tracie Pang (director), Timothy Kho (assistant director), David Lindsay-Abaire (book and lyrics), Jeanine Tesori (music), Joanne Ho (music director), Andy Benjamin Cai (choreographer), TJ Taylor (vocal coach), Eucien Chia (set designer), James Tan (lighting designer), Jing Ng (sound designer), Leonard Augustine Choo (costume designer), Leong Lim (hair/wig designer)
Cast:Menchu Lauchengco-Yulo, Zachary Pang, Rebekah Sangeetha Dorai, Benjamin Chow, Frances Lee, Melissa May Garcia, Angelo Martinez, Beatrice Jaymes Pung, Theo Chen
Company: Pangdemonium