Brian Quijada (background) and Nygel D. Robinson Photo by Ben Krantz Studio

And then there is Mexodus, which opened this week in a West Coast premiere at Berkeley Rep's Peet's Theatre. With only two performers, Mexodus should feel small, but thanks to the enormous talents of the two performers (Brian Quijada and Nygel D. Robinson), a plethora of instruments and audio-visual technology, and the powerful music they create live every night, Mexodus is gargantuan in its impact. It's easily the best show I've seen all year.

When I say the music is created live every night, I mean it's more than the live performance of a written score played by an orchestra. That's generally a given in musical theatre. In Mexodus, although the structure of the music is laid out beforehand, Quijada and Robinson create a multi-layered score on the fly every night, using looping technology that allows them to record a bar or two–a bass line, a drum track, a guitar riff, a bit of beatboxing–that will then repeat, allowing the pair to add another musical phrase or rhythm, slowing stacking layer after layer on top of each other until Peet's Theatre practically explodes with sound.

Rather like the phenomenon that is Hamilton, the music in Mexodus primarily has a hip-hop feel, though it also draws from other musical traditions–Mexican boleros and African-American spirituals–to weave its story of an escaped slave on a journey on the Underground Railroad. Unlike the Underground Railroad that shuttled slaves from the American south to freedom in the north, this much lesser-known escape route led from Texas into Mexico, which banned slavery nearly four decades before the Emancipation Proclamation.

Torn from his mother's arms at the age of eight and given a new name, the enslaved Henry (Robinson) is taken to Texas to work on a cotton farm. "We work. We hurt," is the chant. After the farmer's wife falsely accuses Henry of assault, he makes the decision to leave Victoria, Texas, and make his way south to the Rio Grande. Unable to swim, he uses a bale of cotton as a makeshift raft, yet still almost drowns–but is saved by Carlos (Quijada), who puts him up in the barn on the corn farm he works for an absentee owner.

It's a tight, compact story–two men facing enormous challenges, both on the run from their demons: Henry from his enslavement, Carlos from the memories of his wartime service. It all takes place inside the barn, which is stunningly rendered by scenic designer Riw Rakkulchon. With its corrugated steel walls and I-beam rafters, stuffed with antique TV screens, keyboards, drums, and other instruments, as well as tools and loose items one might expect to find in a barn, it is somehow equally confining and liberating.

As constrained as the story is, every moment seems to remind us of the bigger issues at stake: freedom, identity, and our duties to each other as fellow humans. Combine this with music that had audience members swaying in our seats, tapping our feet, and gesturing with hands and arms as if we could not contain ourselves and simply had to be a part of the music, and you have the recipe for theatrical magic. I'm rather shocked the roof of Peet's Theatre is still intact, so hard did Quijada and Robinson work to blow it off its moorings. There was a moment late in Mexodus when the music was so layered, so rich, so rhythmic, and so incredibly moving that, when it finally ended, the applause lasted well more than a minute and had virtually all the audience on its feet.

But this small show that is somehow simultaneously enormous would be impossible without the amazing talents of Quijada and Robinson. Both are incredibly skilled multi-instrumentalists, vocalists and rappers, while also writing all the music in the show. I was stunned over and over and over again at their mastery. Robinson plays piano with an incredible energy–and then brings that same heightened skill level to his work on stand-up bass, guitar, percussion and trumpet. On top of all that, he has a gorgeous, effortlessly powerful singing voice. Likewise, Quijada has a masterful touch on guitar, but also plays keyboards and percussion and sings with a voice that is distinct from Robinson's, yet harmonizes perfectly with his scene partner. Together, they use all these skills while at the same time employing looping technology to create the tracks live each night. (They also create sound effects–such as waves or lightning or a crackling fire–using the same looping technology.)

I beg you, get yourself to Berkeley while Mexodus is running. Be prepared to be energized, entertained, educated, enlarged, and–in a most wondrous way–emancipated.

Mexodus runs through October 20, 2024, at Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Peet's Theatre, 2025 Addison Street, Berkeley CA. Shows are Tuesdays at 8:00 p.m., Wednesdays at 7:00pm, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00 p.m., with matinees Saturdays and Saturdays at 2:00 p.m. Tickets are $22.50 - $134, with discounts available for students, seniors, and groups. For tickets and information, please visit www.berkeleyrep.org, or call the box office at 510-647-2949.