- May 21, 2026
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Ann Morrison is an elfin, tireless, ageless Sarasota-based actor, producer and playwright. If you live here, you already know that. For decades, her best-known role was that of the original Mary Flynn in the ill-starred 1981 production of Stephen Sondheim’s “Merrily We Roll Along.” The rare Broadway flop in Sondheim’s storied career later became the subject of a 2016 documentary, “Best Worst Thing That Could Have Happened.” To outsiders, Morrison’s career suddenly skyrocketed but she's been a fixture of local theater for years.
After playing Herod in Josh Rhodes’ production of “Jesus Christ Superstar” at Sarasota's Asolo Repertory Theatre in 2025, she landed the lead in the Broadway touring production of “Kimberly Akimbo.” In the heartbreaking yet funny tale, Morrison played a teenage girl with a premature aging disease. The whirlwind 10-month national road show went to 45 theaters across the country. It’s been a wild ride. Now Morrison’s back in town. She shares the twists and turns of life on the road.
By not trying! I’ve lived my whole life by not being a pursuer. I still don’t have an agent. I just like to go where doors open. The “Kimberly Akimbo” casting office kept calling me. “Would you like to audition as Victoria Clark’s understudy on Broadway?” My answer was “No.” They called again while I was getting ready to play Herod in “Jesus Christ Superstar” at the Asolo. This time, my answer was “yes.” (Producer) David Stone said he’d pushed for me after seeing the documentary about “Merrily We Roll Along.”
Kimberly’s been on this planet for 16 years, but her body ages four to five times faster than normal. Unlike most teens, she has impulse control — and she’s upbeat. But intellectually, Kim knows her time is short. That doesn’t hit her emotionally until she hears other teens discussing their futures. That’s when she realizes she doesn’t have one.
The most important thing about her is she’s never a victim. She stays optimistic, even despite her condition and her wildly dysfunctional family.
It’s fun. It’s original. It’s got so many great oddball characters. As dysfunctional as they are, you fall in love with them. It's a beautiful, beautiful show and funny, funny, funny.
David Lindsey-Abaire’s genius is how. He’s amazingly good at looking at human behavior and finding love and compassion. He adapted the musical from his play — and I think it’s better than the original.
By staying fully present. Every night I was a different Annie, with a different audience, in a different show. Once I realized that, I listened more closely to the other actors and followed my instinctive shifts in the moment.
Just being myself. I really am a 16-year-old trapped in a 70-year-old body, so I wasn’t really acting. I just showed up.

The alone time. The “creative quietude.” Many people won’t relate. … But being alone tapped me into different forms of creativity — a sacred creativity. I was connected to the universe in some strange, holy way. I felt a sense of wonder — the way you feel when you’re a kid.
Mother Nature! We spent 10 straight weeks in winter weather. I couldn’t walk barefoot outside because there was snow everywhere. Since I’ve got Florida blood, I was cold all the time.
Well, I studied. Constantly. I designed my own curriculum — quantum physics, spirituality, metaphysics, and even how to grow trees. I watched short films on and studied the acting, editing and cinematography. And I also stayed creatively engaged. I rewrote an art song and brainstormed a new show. I used the time to make myself better.
I did at first. Walking is big for me, but in the winter that didn't happen. I just stayed active in the hotel the best possible way.
Both. If the next theater was a short drive, we took the bus. If it was one or two states away, we flew.
We had a 10-month contract. I came home for about three weeks in September and two weeks at Christmas. The rest of the time, I was on tour.
Sometimes. My companion Blake (Walton), and I sometimes talked three times a day. He was without me for 10 months. We’d compare notes and put our heads together remotely. He kept our SaraSolo company alive and continued teaching. He also discovered new things like weight training. We had similar paths of exploration.
On stage, I stretched my acting muscles — and my actual muscles. Back at my hotel, my meditations became deeper. After each show, I’d go back to my room and put my thoughts down on paper. I germinated a lot of good stuff.
I traveled with 42 people — cast, musicians, crew, company managers, understudies, everybody. We all genuinely adored each other. That’s rare. If something went wrong, everybody just laughed. A prop disappeared, the food for a dinner scene wasn’t there, somebody missed a cue — we’d improvise and just keep going.
No, no, no. They struggled to keep up with me. From their point of view, my energy level would exhaust kindergarteners. They even gave me an award: “Ann Morrison: Legendary Old Broad.”

Yep. Kimberly ice skates, so I skate. Don’t tell my osteoporosis doctor. She'd have a heart attack. I hadn’t been on skates since I was 17.
Nah. We all rehearsed on a synthetic surface developed for professional skaters. After that, we skated on real ice wearing helmets and knee pads.Thankfully, everybody else does the flips and spins. Kimberly only skates down a single line and then turns around.
No, I wouldn’t. (laughs) I can’t come back, because I never went away. I’ve always been working — just not in New York City. The illusion is that if you’re not acting in New York, you’re on hiatus. That’s bull. There’s great theater everywhere. Just do it. Just go for it. Create your own work. Follow your passion — even if it doesn’t lead to Broadway.
Keep going, Kid. Everything you do leads to the next thing. Don’t judge it; experience it. Life is short, so just enjoy the ride. Annie’s going to turn out fine.