'Kimberly Akimbo' is Defining Musical of the 2020s (So Far)

(Photo: Joan Marcus)

by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder

I saw a TikTok recently asking “What is the defining musical of the 2020’s"? I had to think about it.

Every era has that one show that captures the moment. The ‘60s had Hair. The ‘70s gave us A Chorus Line. The ‘90s had Rent. The 2010s? That’s Hamilton, hands down. These weren’t just big hits—they were cultural checkpoints. They spoke to where we were as a society, even if you didn’t love musicals (or thought you didn’t), you still knew they mattered.

So what about now?

Let’s get the obvious out of the way. We’ve had some great shows since 2020—critically loved, Tony-winning, some with fanbases that could probably form their own governments—but not many that have truly cut through and stuck. Not many that feel like they’ll still be part of the conversation in 10 or 20 years.

But when I think about a show that genuinely captures this weird, weary, hopeful, chaotic moment we’re living in—I keep landing on Kimberly Akimbo.

Yes, that show. The one about a teenage girl with a rapid-aging disease, a shady aunt, a group of awkward classmates, and a stolen mailbox. It’s odd and specific and quietly devastating. It’s also maybe the most honest and heartfelt musical of the last five years.

Kimberly Akimbo doesn’t try to go viral. It doesn’t yell. It’s not chasing a moment—it’s just being heartbreakingly real about what it means to be a person. And that, honestly, might be exactly what this decade needs.

We’ve all been through a lot. Pandemic. Grief. Uncertainty. A general sense that time is short and nothing is guaranteed. And here comes this little show with a big heart saying: Live now. Say the thing. Love who you love. Don’t wait for perfect. It hits you not because it’s flashy, but because it’s true.

Jeanine Tesori’s score is rich and strange in the best way—it soars when it needs to, but it never overreaches. David Lindsay-Abaire’s book is hilarious and unsentimental and somehow still makes you cry. It’s a show that earns every single moment, and it does so without ever trying too hard. That feels rare.

But the themes? That’s where it really lands. This is a musical about time—how little we get, how fast it moves, how badly we want to believe there’s more of it. And after the last few years, who hasn’t been thinking about that? Kimberly’s condition forces her to face mortality in a way most teens don’t have to—but all of us, no matter our age, have been carrying that weight lately. Whether it’s health stuff, climate anxiety, or just trying to stay connected in a world that keeps shifting, the idea of “someday” feels less and less reliable.

So a show that says, “Stop waiting—go live,” kind of hits different right now.

And what I love most is that it’s not a big, sweeping declaration of purpose. It’s messy. It’s specific. It’s about weird kids trying to pull off a scam and falling in love and doing a science project while their lives are quietly unraveling. There’s no neat ending. But there’s hope. Not the Instagram kind—the kind that sneaks up on you after you’ve laughed at something dark and then teared up during a harmony. That’s Kimberly Akimbo. It’s strange, and gentle, and a little miraculous.

Broadway moves fast. But right now, Kimberly Akimbo feels like the show that actually gets us. Not in some broad, brand-friendly way—but in a weird, vulnerable, deeply human way.

Will it be the defining musical of the decade? Too early to call. But if the 2020s are about surviving, recalibrating, and finding joy in the middle of the mess, then Kimberly might just be our girl.

She’s stronger than she looks.