Road-tripping musical focuses on immigration plight

`Miss You Like Hell' plays through Feb. 26 at two San Jose theaters

The perilous nature of getting behind the wheel and driving to the corner store as an undocumented person is frightening; driving across the country in an unreliable vehicle under the same circumstances is a different level of terror.

It's not like Beatriz has much of a choice. An immigration hearing awaits on the other side of the country, but potential reconciliation with her estranged daughter Olivia certainly makes everything worth the effort. Picking up Olivia in Philadelphia before heading to California means a shot at citizenship, but probably more importantly, a chance at motherly redemption.

City Lights Theater Company and Teatro Vision's joint production of Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Quiara Alegría Hudes and composer Erin McKeown's “Miss You Like Hell” has a succulent grit to its arc. Many delightful, individual moments are embraced in this immigrant story that fuses the lore of American road-trippin' with lessons of family and friendship, showcasing keen, yet a few too many uneven, strokes from director Rodrigo Garcia.

Many colorful characters and locales await Beatriz (Jessica Osegueda) and Olivia (Alycia Adame) as they embark on what could be a life-altering ride to new beginnings in their relationship. Beatriz has been missing in action most of Olivia's young life, and the two characters are presented with unflinching honesty in Hudes' crafty libretto. Beatriz's four-year absence in Olivia's sphere during some of her most formative years means that critical revelations of puberty were left for Olivia alone to interpret, forcing the navigation of multiple horrors. Even with Olivia's reticence towards her mother, Beatriz sees the open road as an opportunity for a restart with the hope of moving on from the traumas that have impacted each in disparate ways.

The show's first act, with a pacing that often falls slack, needs sharper execution. Still, there is plenty of quality to cling to, with good set design and projection work.

The deficiencies in Act 1 are mostly alleviated in a second act which pays off many of the set-ups with aplomb. What strengthens the show as well are the complications develop in the mother-daughter relationship.

All of the major moments flow through the characters of Beatriz and Olivia, voiced with a thoughtful exuberance from both Osegueda, who came forward from the ensemble as a replacement just weeks prior to opening, and Adame, who came into the production cold around the same time. There are certainly painstaking discoveries that take place between their two characters, despite a few pointed interactions where both actors are a bit too impervious to each other.

Both actors provide superb vocalizations in separate moments. Whether it is Osegueda's wistful supplication of Beatriz's “Over My Shoulder,” or Adame's shredding of the title song as the narrative begins to conclude, a strong sense of their musicianship and characterizations imbue the story.

Other characters and performances contribute mightily to the world of uneven roads, mighty mountains and refreshing geysers we encounter. The gentle soul of Manuel is handled with sincerity by Ricardo Cortes, his sunny disposition flowing through the story as he sings his heart out about tamales, a food that carries a history and mysticism while doubling as a magical elixir. What tamales mean to him and the spirit of his wife both nourish and devastate the soul. Listening to his response as to how his wife passed is a tear-jerking gut-punch in the most joyous of ways.

Kennedy Dawson as Pearl (alternating the role with Naomi Evans) is a resounding presence as she shares her passion for “Yellowstone” with rhythmic delight. Both Mo (Joel Butler) and Higgins (Ken Boswell) bring a sweet sentimentality, a loving couple striving to get married in all 50 states. The entire company is certainly given a heavy lift from music director Samuel Cisneros and his wicked five-piece band.

The finality features a scintillating set of tableaus, despite the awkward transition it takes to get there. Walls are often a devastating divider that can turn a simple yard into a vast expanse of sadness. Yet love has the power to disintegrate the cruelest of structures.

And when the heart takes the wheel, memories and hope can last forever.

David John Chávez is chair of the American Theatre Critics Association and served as a juror for the 2022 Pulitzer Prize for Drama. Twitter/Mastodon: @ davidjchavez.