Review: Mexodus, a Hip-Hop Musical About an Enslaved Person's Journey South to Freedom

Most Americans are (for now) familiar with the Underground Railroad, a secret network that helped spirit enslaved people to freedom in the North in the decades before emancipation. But there was a less traveled route south, to Mexico, that gets almost no attention. Brian Quijada and Nygel D. Robinson seek to change that with their two-man musical Mexodus, now running off-Broadway with Audible Theater. It is a welcome addition to the popular conception of the Underground Railroad, which has all too often been presented through the prism of a Yankee savior complex.

This made-for-school-matinees tour de force sees Robinson step into the role of Henry, a man who was born in Kentucky and literally sold down the river to the new slave state of Texas. That’s where we meet him in 1851, toiling in the cotton fields. A life-or-death conflict with the master sends Henry fleeing across Rio Grande, where slavery has been abolished.

Wanted, injured, and alone, he finds refuge on a farm run by Carlos (Quijada), a retired army medic still haunted by his actions (or lack thereof) during the Mexican-American War. Will he turn Henry in and claim the reward money or will he stick it to the gringos who stole a big chunk of his country by nursing Henry back to health and helping him disappear into Mexico?

You can probably guess the answer, but suspense is not what drives Mexodus, which transforms into a charming buddy comedy thanks to the irresistible chemistry between its two performers. Robinson feels like a time-traveler, a recognizably modern Black American transported to the antebellum south and all its horrors. Quijada exudes the stoicism of a lone wolf with a dark past, his macho snarl flashing a gold tooth in an exhilarating norteño burlesque routine. We can picture every frame of the Amazon Prime miniseries in our heads thanks to their evocative performances.

But the truly impressive element is their use of looped audio to build every number, with the performers playing several instruments and singing live into microphones. Those musical phrases are recorded and played back, allowing Quijada and Robinson to build each song layer by layer, creating little symphonies that incorporate elements of rap, ranchera, R&B, and spirituals like “Wade in the Water.” Quijada did something similar in his solo show Where Did We Sit on the Bus?, but Mexodus takes it to a whole new level.

Audio wizard Mikhail Fiksel designed the sound and looping architecture that allows them to pull it off on Riw Rakkulchon’s busy set, which suggests a cross between a recording studio and a safe house. As a number gets going, it is enhanced by Mextly Couzin’s stealthy concert lighting and Johnny Moreno’s cinematic projections. These are some of the most thrilling and complicated production numbers off-Broadway, but they make it look easy under the steady direction of David Mendizábal, who also designed the costumes. I particularly appreciated Quijada’s red track suit with charro embroidery, wedding the worlds of rodeo and hip-hop.

This historical fiction rap musical will undoubtedly remind audiences of Hamilton, especially some of the rapid-fire Spanglish lyrics like:

No se me Olvida lo que tenia, en otra vida lo tenia todo
Por culpa mia se fueron al Cielo, y me volvi loco.
Y ahora tengo chance to not run away,
I have to stay, make up for all the things I lost along the way,
Lost to the United States, I’m in a state descontrolado,
Con este hombre del otro lado.
I’ll lead the way, and he’ll follow.

Quijada’s diction is clear, and his flow assured. But whole stanzas like the one quoted above completely flew over my head in performance, a problem I’m not sure any sound designer could remedy. Like Hamilton, Mexodus is a show that requires repeat listens of the cast recording to get everything they’re saying. So it’s lucky that Mexodus is being produced by an audiobook company. Plans are already in place to release a recording of the show in June.

It’s destined to become a favorite of high school history teachers looking to motivate their students, especially during what appears to be a general assault on historical literacy, with politically motivated mythologies arising in the absence of historical fact.

A final song highlights this problem, however unintentionally. In an inspirational call to action, they rap about a time “Further back than protesting border politics / Back when Marsha P. and Sylvia threw the first brick” (they did no such thing), “Back when Cesar Chavez joined to have the civil wrongs righted” (Chavez was foremost a labor organizer whose views on undocumented immigrants were complex and dynamic), “when the Black Panthers and the Young Lords united” (an alliance not without friction). History is always more complicated than the fairytale contemporary activists weave.

Perhaps musical theater, a form that flattens nuance and embraces big emotion, is not the best way to fully illuminate this obscure corner of North American history. For those interested, Alice L. Baumgartner’s South to Freedom offers a more comprehensive view. But if you’re looking for a new musical that will send you into the streets humming, Mexodus is your ticket.