Whether you’re a fanatic of the original iconic 80’s film, an enthusiast for musicals (like myself), or both in tandem, the touring production of The Karate Kid, currently housed at Edinburgh’s Festival Theatre until 27 June, delivers a memorable take on its source material.
Following Daniel LaRusso as he attempts to carve out a place for himself in a new school in California, and a testing romance, what unfolds is a tale of perseverance and belonging, underpinned by an exploration of grief and selfhood.
Though my knowledge of karate is narrow, this bore no consequence on either my understanding or enjoyment of the musical. Helpful terms were delineated in the programme, and the show’s focus on the necessity for a feeling over technical skills in karate meant it remained accessible throughout.
The ensemble scenes in the Cobra Kai Karate Dojo were a real highlight — these moments worked so effectively because the production explored the opposing philosophies of karate through both music and staging: Mr Miyagi’s (played by Adrian Pang) practice is rooted in balance, discipline and internal control, with the dulcet flutes and strings underscoring a sense of harmony with oneself, less about violence or competition and more a meditative way of moving through the world. Cobra Kai Dojo, under John’s jurisdiction (played by Matt Mills) is driven by hostility with brash, unrelenting drums and electric guitars emphasising this offensive approach. That contrast is reinforced visually with the lighting, set and costume design all speaking this same language: Miyagi’s world and ensemble often had lighter tones and is softly lit, while Cobra Kai’s red and black costumes, sharper edges, and flashes of harsh lighting created a more confrontational atmosphere. When these two worlds finally amalgamated in the competition, it was visually striking – I just wished it went on for longer!
Unfortunately, the musical’s main let down was the characterisation of Daniel LaRusso, played by Gino Ochello. From the outset, his physicality in the karate sequences was unconvincing— he was slightly haphazard throughout the movement. Given that balance is made such a central tenet of karate in the show (there is, after all, a song literally titled ‘Balance’), it made the musical’s whole foundation feel less credible. It would have been highly effective if that lack of control had been intentional early on, gradually tightening into sharpness and precision as his character ‘becomes’ the Karate Kid. Instead, there was little sense of progression, so when he reached those major turning points, they felt strangely anticlimactic. The production asked us to believe Daniel has mastered skills that, physically at least, never seemed to materialise on stage.
Ochello’s portrayal also leaned a little too heavily into the awkward, stumbling-yet-sweet teenager archetype, tipping at times into caricature. As no one else in the production acted quite so emphatically, it felt misplaced and therefore difficult to wholly connect with the musical’s protagonist.
Otherwise, it’s a production that balances its strengths well: moments of humour land cleanly against more sombre undertones, and Adrian Pang’s Mr Miyagi is an undeniable audience favourite – his warmth and blunt no-nonsense attitude translated seamlessly from screen to stage.
Taken as a whole, The Karate Kid is an engaging, visually assured production, strongest when its ensemble work and contrasting worlds are in full flight – and, for the most part, it knows exactly when to wax on and when to wax off.
Image by Manuel Harlan.