Review: World Premiere Musical WILD CHILD Debuts at Laguna Playhouse

It's particularly rare for new, fully-produced large musicals to have its world premiere productions on this side of the country, let alone in Orange County, California. So when one shows up with all the accoutrements of a luxe production, it seems like a perfect reason to get excited to go into one of our Broadway-caliber local regional theaters again.

Such was the feeling during the recent opening night performance of WILD CHILD, a brand-new, refreshingly contemporary original musical that serves as the electric opener for the 2026-2027 season of the historic Laguna Playhouse—a fitting offering considering the theater itself recently underwent its own contemporary rebranding and aesthetic makeover.

Performances of this world premiere production continue at the Moulton Theatre of Laguna Playhouse through October 4, 2026 in the city of Laguna Beach, California.

Featuring book and lyrics by Dan Marshall and music by composer Julianne Wick Davis, WILD CHILD—an original concept developed by The Breathe Project and helmed here with vibrant energy by director John Simpkins—is an ambitious, sincerely earnest, and, at times, cleverly innovative new musical that easily connects beyond its youth-centric target audience, and is enhanced further by its hopeful premise, approachable execution, intriguing visuals and, most significantly, the riveting performances delivered by a uniformly likable ensemble cast that will have its audiences cheering. With nary a weak link amongst them, this show, I must say, features one of the most cohesively impressive casts I have witnessed this year.

There is something wonderfully appropriate about the century-old Laguna Playhouse opening its new season of live theater with this Modern Stage musical that is about, in many ways, what happens when we are forced to stop hiding behind the insulated things that make us comfortable and thrust us instead towards something that shakes us up a bit. This musical seemingly aims to do that and, for the most part, handily succeeds.

In an era when "connection" can mean little more than an online username, an avatar, or a glowing device held inches from our faces, this genuinely enjoyable, pop-driven, melodramatic adventure takes its young characters decisively offline and places them smack-dab in the middle of the, oh no!, great outdoors—freeing them to be, well, as free as they can possibly be in the real world, so to speak, which, in turn, helps them in their individual mental and spiritual healing.

Of course, fresh new musicals will always feel like they have room for further development, and that seems to be the case with this first full production of WILD CHILD, despite appearing, on the surface, to be a fully realized, completed show equipped with awesome sets, effective background projections, and even some dynamic choreography.

While it certainly, overall, does feel like a well-crafted, almost-there work-in-progress (the presented musical, as it stands, feels to me about 90% away from its ultimate polished form with just a few tweaks), what Laguna Playhouse has mounted on its stage is emotionally alluring, sometimes funny, and often times touching. 

WILD CHILD is a superb first draft, promising subsequent future productions could only get even better from here.

Set within a wilderness therapy program called "New Roots" headquartered in northern Utah—you know, one of those sometimes controversial camps that parents often ship their "troubled" young kids to in order to try to "straighten" them out via immersion in challenging outdoor activities—WILD CHILD is about what happens when immersion in nature—alongside other people—helps in one finding out what actually makes them tick and, well, feel alive.

As the show begins, we are first introduced to the not-so-perfect home lives of two troubled teenagers who, unbeknownst to each other, have already formed a relationship online—except they have never actually met IRL (in real life). 

Avid players of the online game "Wild Child," creative rebel Rina (the very talented Salima Gangani) and timid Darin (the intensely compelling Davide Costa) know of each other only as heroic avatars in a virtual world, a place where identities can be invented, and where consequences can conveniently be muted. 

Like most angsty teens navigating today's digital age, Rina and Darin feel unseen, unheard, and unfairly misunderstood in their own respective ways. Their online personas, however, are more confident and self assured.

But once these two are abruptly snatched from their protective bedroom bubbles and then deposited into the real world of the Utah wilderness, the comfort of donning their carefully constructed digital selves becomes considerably harder to maintain. 

Even as they try their best to navigate their real world personas unplugged, their online alter egos still manage to become their go-to muses whenever they feel stressed, encouraging and advising their most challenging mental and physical tasks in the form of imagined hallucinations. For Rina, it's her rock-goddess diva alter ego Roses (the fab, gorgeous-voiced Yana Perrault), while Darin gets encouragement from a spandex-clad, muscle-enhanced superhero named Kiton (the smolder-ific Brian Whitehill).

In their actual human existences offline, however, Rina and Darin feel troubled.

Rina, an aspiring musician who is failing all her classes (except choir), often finds herself in a constant shouting match with her disappointed mother, who, more than anything, wants Rina to focus on her studies more rather than her dreams, perhaps in order to catch up with the achievements of her much more successful older sister who's away studying at an Ivy League institution. Exasperated, Rina's mother decides that the camp is her last resort for curbing her daughter's rebellious tendencies.

Darin, on the other hand, is a shy but endearingly awkward young man who, we soon learn, is sheepishly (yet somewhat more willingly) returning for another summer at the camp. His mother hopes that more time in nature would help alleviate the anxiety Darin continues to suffer from, likely caused by their family's tragic personal trauma that has kept him hiding in his room to retreat to his role-playing game.

WILD CHILD wastes little time (literally) throwing its main characters into their uncomfortable new reality of roughing it in the Utah landscape. 

Rina and Darin arrive at the wilderness program carrying considerably more emotional baggage than camping gear, joining a group of other "troubled" young people who have also been forcibly sent to the camp by their parents, hoping it would magically "fix" them. Collectively, each camper's individual struggles gradually become part of the larger story. 

Led by a pair of cheerful, seemingly over-caffeinated, hike-happy camp counselors Collins (Chad Doreck) and Whitney (Jennifer Noble), Rina and Darin are joined by chatty Lynds (Amanda Angeles), an outspoken activist; Phoenix (Gabby Dahlen), whose parents won't acknowledge their transition; sarcastic Tom (hilarious scene-stealer Jacob "Kov" Zelonky), fresh out of drug rehab; and preppy rich kid Fitz (Mathew Fedorek) who really, really wants to leave camp to resume his life of luxury.

Separated from their phones, Wi-Fi, familiar routines, and—for Rina and Darin in particular—carefully curated online identities, the teens are forced to interact with one another in ways that cannot be filtered, edited, blocked, or simply logged off, while also enduring ten-mile-a-day hikes, composing hand-written daily journal entries, lighting fires, and setting up their own tents.

What initially feels like an unwanted punishment slowly becomes something more layered and complex—and potentially transformative. 

And, more importantly, as time passes, Rina and Darin discover that the friendship they unknowingly began in a virtual world might actually have a chance to become something genuine—even impactful—here in the real world despite having completely divergent temperaments. 

One by one, each teen surprises themselves with cathartic discoveries and new personal summits as they grapple with the very demons that have caused their parents to send them to the camp in the first place. Along the journey, WILD CHILD explores grief, addiction, identity, belonging, and the sometimes painful process of learning how to trust other people. Its central metaphor is hardly subtle, but there is an undeniable theatrical appeal in watching characters who are accustomed to living life through screens suddenly finding themselves surrounded by nothing but trees, mountains, rivers, wolf howls, and, yes, other human beings.

While the musical doesn't fully address the controversial side of other outdoor therapy camps that have had negative and even dangerous results in their wake, WILD CHILD's particular narrative commits to the more positive iteration of such camps, rather than the ones that have been detrimental to healing for even the most unruliest of kids (there is a brief of acknowledgment of the scary, harsh method that brought Rina to the camp, but that intro gets swept under a rock). The goal here seems focused on painting the methodology that places utmost care on youth mental health with a gentler, less violent approach—which is shown to have positive results and helps endear the musical's premise to audiences who are skeptical that such treatment works. 

The result is a musical that can be funny, energetic, occasionally heartbreaking, and—perhaps most importantly—genuinely interested in asking why so many young people today are struggling to figure out who they are when there is no device around to tell them who they should be. 

What makes WILD CHILD particularly intriguing as a new musical is the way it attempts to bridge two seemingly opposing worlds. Its subject matter and the various personalities presented are distinctly of-the-moment, yet the emotional journey its characters endure is as old-fashioned as musical theater itself: people who feel isolated are discovering one another while being forced to be "trapped" together in an unfamiliar environment, where they can confront their wounds and gradually learn that being openly vulnerable and sincerely honest can be its own kind of strength. 

On the whole, there's plenty to love and admire about this ambitious new musical.

Simpkins' direction understands that WILD CHILD cannot simply be played as a serious two-act after-school special or as a piece of propaganda espousing the merits of wilderness therapy camps as the only effective solution for taming young people's behavior. Thus, the musical incorporates movement, humor, messiness, fantasy, and, yes, a little bit of theatrical wildness to get its message of hopeful positivity across. 

There is a decidedly youthful exuberance to the material that feels entirely intentional, sure, but beneath the upbeat, hopeful surface is a story about smart, creative kids who are deeply hurting and the adults who are trying, sometimes imperfectly, to help them. And for a new original musical that has no tether to pre-existing source material or famous I.P., that combination of big emotional ambitions and an accessible contemporary sound gives WILD CHILD a welcome sense of immediacy.

Visually, the production's creative team is tasked with perhaps the show's most obvious theatrical challenge: how do you make a wilderness therapy program feel expansive and alive inside the relatively confined footprint of Laguna Playhouse's stage? 

That's where scenic designer Michael Schweikardt—in conjunction with lighting/projection designers Nathan Scheuer and Cat Wilson—come in. Together, these theatrical wizards give the production a dynamic visual language that can move between the artificiality of the digital world and the more organic environment of the outdoors with lovely backdrops that move, expand, and dazzle. 

That contrast is essential. The characters begin in a world where everything can be manipulated, customized and controlled; the wilderness, by comparison, is untamed, ever-changing, and, well, sometimes refuses to cooperate (don't let the parallels hit you on the head). But that wilderness can also inspire awe: a starry sky, a lightning storm, an endless vista of mountains and trees. We are mesmerized just as much as the campers are.

Costume Designer Alex Jaeger further helps establish the setting, the tone, and, eventually, the passage to time via the cast's contemporary outfits. While their clothing choices at the start of the show feel like layers of protective armor, their eventual adoption of the camp's bright colors—in the form of "New Roots" branded shirts stylized to each individual character's comfort level—symbolize each teen's emotional evolution.

Meanwhile, choreographer Trent Soyster cleverly conceives innovative, high-energy movements for the cast that not only convey hiking and marching through the wilderness as not just ways to go from point A to point B, but he bathes these motions as unifying dance routines that look natural and, yes, fun to watch. The production even strategically places a couple of hidden treadmills (disguised as hills) on stage to simulate uphill hiking without having to force the cast to walk off into the wings, keeping them in constant view as they depict forward motion—and the passage of time. Admittedly, that whole bit made me smile.

Sound-wise, musical director Noah Landis and opening night conductor Ryan O' Connell help establish that energy, allowing the production's pop-rock vocabulary to feel like a natural extension of these characters rather than an imposed contemporary gloss. The score is at its strongest when the songs function as emotional windows into characters who are not necessarily capable of articulating what they are feeling in ordinary conversation. When that happens, WILD CHILD reminds us why musical theater remains such a potent form for stories about adolescence: sometimes the only way to express an emotion that is too complicated to say aloud is to, well, sing it.

The show's original music is enjoyable overall, with even some surprisingly memorable earworms sprinkled into its songbook. Admittedly, I found that I wasn't alone repeating the catchy lyrics "Fake It 'Til You Make It" repeatedly during intermission, despite only hearing it for the first time. Wick Davis' pop-rock score gives the production an appropriately contemporary pulse, while Marshall's book and lyrics continually return to the show's central question of what it means to actually show up—for yourself and for others around you. 

Whitney's song "Three Pages" (beautifully sung by Noble) in the second act even got me right in the feels. While I wish Darin got his own standalone introductory song in the beginning just as Rina does, the show's soundtrack does provide every supporting character to have their own individual showcase song, adding their voice to the show's overall theme.

But more than anything, WILD CHILD benefits enormously from the fact that this is an ensemble-driven piece, and the cast brought together for Laguna Playhouse's world premiere production truly makes the material—both spoken and sung—shine. I cannot stress enough how talented this bunch are as triple-threat musical theater performers.

The fiery Gangani and the sensitively nuanced Costa, as personality opposites Rina and Darin, anchor the story with such palpably vulnerable, thoughtful performances that effortlessly sell both sides of their characters' journeys: first, the guarded, angsty teenagers we meet initially and, later, the more emotionally open young people gradually revealed underneath. Even just fifteen minutes into the musical, you as an audience member want to protect Costa's sweetly timid Darin at all costs from the monsters of the world, and to give Gangani's Rina a fitting stage to showcase her unbridled artistic ferocity. 

It's also wonderful to see Costa's evolution as an actor here, after first seeing his talents begin to blossom as Jack in Musical Theatre West's production of INTO THE WOODS last year. I also distinctly remember experiencing Gangani in, of all things, a stage show at Disney's California Adventure during one of my recent visits this year, noting to my friends… "gosh, who is she? She sounds amazing!" as she sang and danced amongst a sea of rowdy children, costumed characters, and buckets of bubbles floating down from the ceiling.

Gangani and Costa are well-supported by Angeles, Dahlen, Fedorek, and Zelonky, who each give distinctive, purpose-driven characterizations (with vocal chops to match) to their individual teen characters, while Doreck and Noble's portraits as the camp's counselors exude believable care and welcome wisdom. Elsewhere, Whitehill's Kiton is appropriately dashing and heroic, while Perrault's sexy badass Roses is divaliciously commanding with every appearance, confirming exactly why Rina sees her as the warrior queen to emulate. Together, this harmonious ensemble create the feeling of a genuine group of misfits rather than merely a collection of supporting characters, and they certainly bring the kind of youthful theatrical energy that this material demands.

Heck, as an audience member, I truly, genuinely wanted all these young'ins to succeed and feel better about themselves (yes, even that one "villain" in the cast we all waited to get a comeuppance).

And, yet, alongside all of its laudable aspects, WILD CHILD is not without its growing pains—and perhaps that is the most honest way to approach a world premiere production. The show has room to be even better, and its current structure seems open to make those alterations possible and seamless. My only true gripe with the show is how it begins, where its premise took longer to take off and hook me in than I wanted.

The musical's themes are instantly recognizable, but there are some fleeting moments when the storytelling seems almost too eager to make sure we understand its message,  occasionally leaning toward stating what it might be more powerful to simply dramatize. Part of me also wanted to get to know more of some of the supporting characters who are individually interesting, particularly when the story shifts attention away from Rina and Darin. 

But what does shine through is the musical's fascinating contradiction at the heart of its wilderness-therapy setting. WILD CHILD tricks us into initially assuming that being in nature is the show's catalyst for healing. But the real emotional breakthroughs ultimately rise up through the human relationships this found family forms within its ranks. The gorgeous mountains themselves don't magically fix anybody. It is the uncomfortable business of listening, trusting, forgiving, and being vulnerable with another person that does the heavy lifting. That distinction is important—and this musical allows that to emerge organically rather than turning toward a more conventional inspirational payoff. 

Still, the most appealing quality of WILD CHILD is its fundamental generosity of spirit. This is not a cynical musical, griping about the trouble with "kids these days," nor does it simply wag a Karen-esque finger at technology, scolding everyone to put down their impersonal devices. Instead, it recognizes that the digital world is both a refuge and a trap. For someone who feels invisible in real life, an avatar can provide a place to belong. For someone afraid of being rejected or ostracized, an anonymous or invented online identity can feel safer than revealing one's authentic self. The problem isn't necessarily that Rina and Darrin have found connection online, it is that they have begun to believe that online connection is the only kind of connection that matters.

That makes the musical's ultimate message surprisingly simple, and perhaps all the more resonant: sometimes we have to lose the things that help us hide before we can discover the people who are willing to see us. 

WILD CHILD may still have some refining to do as it finds its ultimate final form, but there is something genuinely exciting about seeing a brand-new musical wrestle with such immediate questions in front of a live audience. Laguna Playhouse and the creatives behind this show's development deserve kudos for giving this original work a stage and allowing it to develop in real time. And if WILD CHILD occasionally feels like a work still discovering itself, perhaps that is fitting—its characters are doing exactly the same thing!

Ultimately, WILD CHILD is at its best when it simply embraces its machinations as a musical about a group of young people who desperately want to be understood and accepted exactly as they are. Beneath the pop-rock score, the wilderness adventure, the intriguing melodrama, and its very of-the-moment premise is an extraordinarily timeless theatrical motif that is comfortably familiar: we all want somewhere to belong. We all want someone to see us. And sometimes, finding that person requires us to step outside the carefully constructed worlds we've built for ourselves and venture outside. 

Follow this reviewer on Bluesky / Twitter-X / Threads / Instagram: @cre8iveMLQ.

Photos by Joan Marcus, courtesy of Laguna Playhouse.

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