When Mark Twain wrote “The Prince and the Pauper” in the early 1880s, he set the story of mistaken identity and class consciousness more than three centuries earlier, in Tudor England. “Kid Prince and Pablo,” a new adaptation by Chicago’s own Quijada brothers, modernizes the setting and adds a hip-hop score while retaining the novel’s fablelike quality. Although some of the social themes don’t land perfectly, it’s still one of the most refreshingly original musicals I’ve seen lately.
Adapted by Brian Quijada with music by Marvin Quijada, the show debuted at the Kennedy Center in 2019 and now makes its Midwest premiere at Lifeline Theatre under the direction of Raquel Torre. Both of the Quijadas are multi-hyphenate artists who have written and starred in Jeff Award-winning productions at Teatro Vista in recent years: Brian’s “Somewhere Over the Border” in 2022 and Marvin’s “The Dream King” in 2023.
Their version of Twain transports the tale to an unnamed industrialized city, all steel beams and corrugated metal in Harrison Ornelas’ set design. In the opening number, three underground rappers (Bryan Nicholas Carter, Terrence Mayfield Jr. and Shaina Toledo) give a brief history lesson, punctuated by neon lights that cycle through the colors of the rainbow (lighting design by Brenden Marble). The narrators explain that they live in a monarchy established by a ruling class called “the Promised,” who colonized an already occupied territory and invited immigrants from far and wide to come build their land of opportunity.
But once the cities and railroads were built, the Promised found it inconvenient to share their country with such a melting pot of citizens, so they consolidated power by restricting access to education, employment and health care. The people rebelled, and the rulers violently crushed the protests and banned rap, hip-hop and “any music that does not conform to the national culture.”
Here’s where Pablo (Jesús Barajas) comes in. A young Spanish-speaking immigrant who recently joined his mother in the capital city, Pablo loves to read books and play the drums — or, rather, a bucket that stands in for a drum. With exaggerated facial expressions and an eager-to-please demeanor, Pablo comes across as a stock character at first, but as the show finds its rhythm, Barajas’ stylized acting fits right in with the folktale vibe.
We also meet Pablo’s counterpart in the palace: Prince Maximilian, who prefers to go by his secret rapper name, Kid Prince (Joshua Zambrano). In a spontaneous encounter between the two young men, Kid Prince is thrilled to discover that Pablo is a drummer and insists on performing some original raps to his beats. Zambrano’s Kid Prince is a comedic highlight from the start, clutching a small notebook as he overconfidently reads out some middling rhymes about his daily pampering regimen. In a costume designed by Jazmin Aurora Medina, his whole look is a mix of royal trimmings and street clothes that screams rich boy who wants to cosplay as a normie.
Soon, Pablo gives him that chance. When he realizes that they bear a physical resemblance, Kid Prince makes Pablo swap clothes with him and leaves the palace to taste the thrills of the underground music scene, setting up a classic scenario of mistaken identities. Newly dressed in finery, Pablo struggles to navigate royal customs, English slang and palace intrigue, much to the alarm of the prince’s righthand man (Mayfield). Meanwhile, Kid Prince hilariously gets schooled in his first attempt at a rap battle.
The Quijadas take the themes of inequality and class struggle further than Twain did, escalating the action to a new revolution by the people. As Kid Prince gets caught up in the social unrest, his eyes are opened to his own privilege and the conditions in which his subjects live. Pablo complicates this narrative of transformation by cautioning the prince that a few days spent walking in his shoes doesn’t change the facts of their respective positions. So far, so good, but I found the ending unsatisfying. The parallels between the show’s fictional country and the U.S. seem pretty clear throughout, but ultimately, Kid Prince and Pablo still live in a monarchy. Despite the prince’s change of heart, the finale doesn’t quite work out that contradiction.
Still, there is much to recommend about this show: it has a cool visual aesthetic, rapid-fire lyrics that pack a punch and a cast that pulls off a mix of situational humor and physical comedy. It’s worth noting that Lifeline intends the production for audiences ages 13 and up, unlike Twain’s book, which he wrote for young readers. So, don’t be put off if you associate “The Prince and the Pauper” with your school days; this revolution is for the grownups, too.
Emily McClanathan is a freelance critic.
Review: “Kid Prince and Pablo” (3 stars)
When: Through Feb. 16
Where: Lifeline Theatre, 6912 N. Glenwood Ave.
Running time: 2 hours
Tickets: $18-$48 at 773-761-4477 or lifelinetheatre.com