Turn off the safeties, remove every security protocol, and brace yourself. “Peg!” speedruns her 30th birthday bucket list with the kind of enthusiasm that feels powered by a Minnesotan nuclear reactor. You will be dragged, kicking and screaming, along for the ride. The fun is mandatory.
Kylie Westerbeck bursts into the theater at full throttle and somehow never lets off the gas. Calling the performance “high energy” is like calling a tornado a light breeze. Between audience games, flash mobs, slam poetry, cooking competitions, and whatever delightful nonsense comes next, the show somehow keeps escalating without ever flying off the rails.
That is especially impressive considering how much freedom the audience is given. That level of participation is always a gamble, but Westerbeck handles every wildcard with remarkable confidence, adapting on the fly and making each interaction feel intentional. The show’s local references only reinforce the feeling that this version exists for this audience alone.
It would be easy for all that delightful absurdity to become exhausting or feel random. Beneath the whipped cream, yelling, and wonderfully unhinged clowning is a show with genuine heart. It never feels haphazard, even when it absolutely feels out of control. Every outrageous detour earns its place. The chaos is merely a misdirection for the precision underneath.
A show that begins as a rabid birthday party hoodwinks the audience into walking away inspired. It becomes something that sticks with you long after the glitter settles. That transformation is the real magic trick. As the laughter fades and the sunflower butter is finally washed down, Peg’s encouragement lingers.
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