Seeing Kim’s Convenience on stage for the first time, as I just did, carries a sense of occasion.
Since its debut at the Toronto Fringe in 2011, Ins Choi’s play has become a full-blown cultural phenomenon: first as a celebrated Soulpepper production, then as a beloved CBC television series, and now – after productions in New York City and the UK – as an internationally acclaimed Canadian theatre stalwart. Following this Toronto run, the production is scheduled for a North American tour, beginning with a scheduled run at San Francisco’s American Conservatory in the fall. This outstanding 2025 revival at Soulpepper, under the assured direction of original director Weyni Mengesha, honours the play’s legacy while reaffirming its humour and social relevance.
Kim’s Convenience is a story about family, cultural identity, and change. Mr Kim or “Appa” is a proud Korean immigrant who has run his Regent Park convenience store for decades. As he stares down the forces of neighbourhood gentrification, he hopes to pass the business on to daughter Janet, an independent-minded photographer with different ambitions. Meanwhile, his estranged son Jung remains a painful absence: the result of a longstanding father-son conflict. Through laugh-out-loud and heartfelt moments, the play explores the intergenerational tensions between immigrant parents and their Canadian-born children, offering a multi-layered portrait of cultural legacy, community, and belonging.
This production’s success lies as much in the tight story—told in a brisk, compact 80 minutes—as in its stellar ensemble, who bring fresh energy to these well-loved characters. Especially meaningful is the casting of Choi as Appa. The character has been inextricably connected to Paul Sun-Hyung Lee, who originated the role and played it on both stage and screen. Playwright Choi inhabits the role with a hilarious and deeply felt performance. In his wire-rimmed glasses, greying hair and familiar puffy vest, he embodies Appa’s gruff exterior and unyielding pride, which see him dispensing over-the-top and comically accented pronouncements on people and business. At the same time, Choi quietly nails the genuine warmth and deep vulnerability lying beneath Appa’s bravado. His slight shoulder slump and every sigh and sideways glance carry the burden of a man who has sacrificed and struggled for his family. Choi played son Jung in the earliest iterations of the show: his transition into the role of the father mirrors the play’s generational themes in a way that feels entirely apt.
Kelly Seo’s Janet provides a sharp, nuanced counterpoint to Appa. Perceptive and self-possessed, she navigates her father’s expectations with an escalating mix of exasperation, anger and love. Her conflict with Appa is the primary engine the play runs on. Brandon McKnight brings charm and versatility to multiple roles as store customers and a local businessman. And he is especially engaging as Alex, Jung’s childhood friend and a police officer smitten with Janet. His scenes with Seo crackle with chemistry. Meanwhile, Esther Chung’s Umma, the quietly steadfast mother, is beautifully understated. She serves as the emotional bridge between her husband and their estranged son Jung (played by Ryan Jinn). Her first scene with Jung is one of the most moving moments in the play. Jinn’s performance is also deeply affecting; he conveys Jung’s inner turmoil and desire for reconciliation with a heartbreaking honesty that feels raw and real.
Of course, Kim’s Convenience succeeds not only as a character-driven family comedy but also as a commentary on cultural identity and intergenerational struggles. Through the character of Mr Kim, the play explores how immigrants balance their cultural roots with the realities of their new home. His vigilant pride in his Korean heritage is brilliantly realized – in the Korean flags and drinks that dot the store, in his comic distaste for Japanese cars and culture, and in his hopes for his family.
The play centers the sacrifices made by immigrants like Appa and Umma to secure a better future for their children – and the expectations and resistance that accrue like interest on these well-intentioned investments. Janet’s desire to pursue photography, rather than take over the store, underscores the challenge of preserving tradition while embracing new opportunities. And the strained relationship between Mr Kim and his estranged son Jung – one of the play’s most compelling emotional threads – may once have come to an explosive flashpoint. But it represents a much deeper tension between tradition and independence, which the production captures with poignancy and with nuance. The store is ultimately a symbol of Appa’s life’s work, his success, and his value to his family and community. “What is my story?”, he insists to his children. “This store is my story.” Kim’s Convenience is about each of the family members finding their story – and finding ways for those stories to co-exist.
The use of Korean dialogue between Mr Kim and his wife adds to the play’s cultural authenticity, reinforcing their shared experience as immigrants, their reliance on one another and their linguistic connection to the country they left behind. The play also subtly comments on how language is used to marginalize. Mr Kim was a successful and popular teacher in Korea, but his lack of English precluded him from continuing to teach in Canada.
And the play does not shy away from exploring racial bias and internalized prejudice. One of the most memorable scenes (which was adapted for the television series) involves Appa instructing Janet on how to spot shoplifters. While his stereotypes elicit laughs, they reveal underlying biases that reflect a complex mix of lived experience and problematic assumptions. The scene is at once hilarious and unsettling, reminding audiences of the complexity of perceptions and the ways they shape interactions.
The play’s setting of a small, family-run store in Regent Park grounds the play in the realities of Toronto’s evolving (and frequently name-checked) neighbourhoods, and establishes a deep sense of place. Wen-Ling Liao’s lighting and Nicole Eun-Ju Bell’s projection designs accomplish noteworthy visual storytelling here. Joanna Yu’s meticulous set design – fully stocked with the drinks, the candy, the chips and the lottery tickets you find in your local convenience store – puts us right inside the store. But we’re constantly reminded that, despite its seeming solidity, the threat of relentless urban gentrification looms – even for a long-standing community hub like Kim’s Convenience.
Under Mengesha’s skilled direction, the production balances laugh-out-loud comedy, emotional depth and biting social commentary. The humour remains sharp, the family dynamics rich, and the themes as timely as ever. Mengesha, who first directed Kim’s Convenience at Soulpepper in 2012, understands the play’s rhythms, and ensures that every moment feels earned in 2025.
For those who have followed Kim’s Convenience from stage to screen and back again, this production is a welcome return to its roots. And for newcomers, it offers a warm and moving introduction to a story that has rightly resonated with so many. The play is an homage to immigrant families, as Choi states in his program notes, but it is also a loving tribute toToronto, which is shaped by its immigrant communities, its small businesses, and its diverse neighbourhoods, and to Soulpepper, situated in its heart.
This story still feels fresh and necessary. And its unmistakable comfort lands like a warm hug – and we can never have too many of those. For those returning to Kim’s Convenience, I know what has brought you back.
Kim’s Convenience is on stage at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts until March 9, 2025. Reserve tickets on soulpepper.com.
© Arpita Ghosal, Sesaya Arts Magazine, 2025
