Music is everywhere in Mexico City, with infectious beats and beautiful rhythms floating from doorways and street corners. It’s not hard to see how such a vibrant place gave birth to Comala, Comala, the new show by Pulpo Arts set to become the first-ever original Mexican musical to play at the Fringe. Based on Pedro Páramo, Juan Rulfo’s classic 20th-century Mexican novel, Comala, Comala tells the tale of Juan Preciado’s journey to the town of Comala in search of his father. While there, he meets the town’s inhabitants, both living and dead, and learns all their stories.

The idea for the show was born following Pulpo Arts’ co-founder Alonso Teruel’s work on a concert version of Dave Malloy’s Moby Dick musical. ‘During that process, my Pulpo partner, Alex Bracho, and I started wondering why there was only a handful of original Mexican musical-theatre pieces, and how Mexico had yet to find a unique sound for its musicals. We thought we could follow in the steps of the Moby Dick project and draw inspiration from the most iconic Mexican novel: Pedro Páramo.’

After going through five different writing teams, Comala, Comala finally found its voice with composer Pablo Chemor and playwright Conchi León. On the surface, Pedro Páramo may not be an obvious choice for a mezcal-fuelled musical adaptation (and yes, audience members can look forward to an agave-based shot at the end of the show), but Chemor believes that the book is inherently musical. ‘It plays a lot with the imagery of sound, and with some of the songs we just used the words exactly the way they are in the book; we let them have their own tune.’

Chemor’s contribution to Comala, Comala shouldn’t be underestimated, however, with around seven folk genres being incorporated into the score, including pirekua and son huasteco. According to Teruel, as a result of this genre mixing, ‘the show feels universal without feeling kitschy, and although it’s informed by the musical theatre of yesteryear, it isn’t that sound.’

The story’s musicality has certainly been brought to this adaptation’s forefront with its innovative staging and set design. The small stage is cluttered with large wooden drums made by the indigenous Rarámuri people. Teruel recalls the show’s first reading and how a lack of tables meant they had to use these drums, which at the time were on display in the venue. ‘They then organically became this storytelling device that we now use as a unity piece. Mexico itself, as it were, started informing us on how these stories would want to be told.’ 

Perhaps even more unusual is the donkey jawbone prominently displayed atop one of these drums. Known as a quijada, this has long been used as a folk instrument in various parts of Latin America. ‘Originally, one of the musicians had one and he started bringing it to rehearsals,’ says Chemor. ‘When we started playing around with the text to see what we were going to do with it and there was this part of a dead animal sitting on a table, it was inevitable that we would use it. We’re talking about a town where we don’t know whether everyone’s dead.’

Though faithful in its adaptation, Comala, Comala also has a lot to say about the Mexico of today. ‘The big thing was how do we continue to honour our Mexican traditions, which are really this book, while reconciling that with our interest in cultural patriarchy and the emancipation of women within this country?’ Teruel explains. ‘And that is where Conchi came in. She writes very beautifully about the relationships between Mexicans and family and patriarchy and religion from a perspective that seems a lot more respectful to the current times.’ From the music to its set design and story, Comala, Comala is firmly rooted in Mexican culture, but Teruel is confident that the musical is accessible to all.

‘It works on so many levels. If you turn off the subtitles, it’s just a beautiful piece of music that you can sit and witness, and that works. If you know Mexican culture, then you’ll enjoy it on a different level. If you know the novel, you enjoy it on that level. If you know the genre of magical realism, you’ll enjoy it on another level. It’s 70 minutes that can’t go wrong.’

For Chemor, it’s the surrealism of the story that makes Comala, Comala so universal. ‘When you read the book, you get lost in the timeline and that’s very obviously on purpose because the main character is also lost in this quest. My hope is that the audience in Edinburgh has a similar experience, being lost in a beautiful way in this world of sound and imagery.’

Comala, Comala, Zoo Southside, 2–25 August, 5.15pm.