Lauren Molina, Shawn Pfautsch, and Monica West Photo by Alessandro Mello/Berkeley Rep

For from the moment Prince Tamino (Billy Rude) is chased by a gorgeously articulated dragon to the final scene where Sarastro, the Sun King (Fernando Watts) and the Queen of the Night (Emily Rohm) bless the unions of Tamino and Pamina (Marlene Fernandez) and Papageno (Shawn Pfautsch) and Papagena (Lauren Molina), a smile left my face only when I exploded in laughter or gasped in wonder at what Zimmerman and her creative team had wrought.

The first thing you may notice upon entering the Roda Theatre is the jewel box set designed by Todd Rosenthal. It contains a proscenium within the existing proscenium (with a silhouette–presumably of Mozart–at its peak), three levels of boxes, and a gorgeous red curtain, creating the sense that we have entered a theater within a theater in a sort of meta commentary on the art.

After that, your eye may be drawn to the orchestra "pit," where five musicians sit, costumed alike, and each sporting a black felt hat that looks like the love child of a fez and a cloche, one of which had a hunter's cap in its ancestry, partly explaining the tiny curved flap covering each player's temple. Electric "candles" simulate flickering flames that light their music stands, further establishing the 18th century feel of Zimmerman's vision.

From the moment the action begins, the story rockets along. After Tamino faints with fear, he is rescued by the Three Ladies (Lauren Molina, Monica West [until November 12, when Ann Delaney assumes the role], and Tina Muñoz Pandya), who fawn over his unconscious body with a mixture of admiration and lust. When he wakes, the Ladies are gone, but Papageno (half bird catcher, half bird) is there, and claims it was he who slew the dragon. The Ladies return, and after rebuking Papageno for his deceit (and taking his beak so he cannot lie further) they show Tamino a portrait of Pamina. As happens in these sorts of tales, Tamino falls instantly in love. So when the Queen of the Night tasks him with the quest to rescue her daughter, Pamina, from the (according to her) evil Sarastro, he readily accepts. Thus begins his transformation from coward who faints in the face of danger, to a man of courage who will be worthy of Pamina's love. To help in the quest, the Ladies give Tamino a magic flute, and Papageno a magic bell.

Tamino and Papageno set off together, but are separated. Wandering on his own, Papageno runs into Pamina, who has escaped Sarastro's castle. Delighted by the news that a prince is coming to save her, the two sing a lovely duet on the joys of marital love. ("Every night I roost alone," Papageno moans of his lack of a lovebird of his own.) Soon enough, Sarastro's henchman, Monostatos (Russell Mernagh), leads them back to the castle, where Tamino has found his way. Sarastro reveals that he is not evil, but benevolent, and desires Tamino and Pamina to be wed–but only after undergoing trials to prove their love.

All this–and much more–is told in an environment that is nothing short of a visual feast. There's the gorgeous set of tri-sided panels that rotate between images of clouds that recall the work of Maxfield Parish, but in tones of grey and white, a patterned backdrop suggesting the king's chamber, and silhouettes of trees to create a sylvan setting. Trees, created in a lovely, homespun sort of way, track in and out as required. Lighting (by T. J. Gerckens) is lovely throughout, but is perhaps most magical when it uplights the Queen of the Night, filling her voluminous pleated skirts with blood-red illumination. And that's not to mention the stunning costumes (by Ana Kuzmanic) and wigs (by Charles G. Lapointe). This amazing production always gives you something beautiful and creative and charming to appreciate.

Though the voices might not pass muster at The Met or La Scala, they are each lovely in their own way. Pfautsch's Papageno is bold and strong, yet manages to be at the same time delicate and tender. But it's his over the top comic skills that struck me the hardest, with his simple-minded–but bubbly–demeanor putting me in mind of Will Ferrell as Buddy in the film Elf, while still being something perfectly unique. Rohm acquits herself well, especially in her signature aria, but perhaps the loveliest voice of the evening belongs to Marlene Fernandez, breaking hearts throughout the theater as Pamina sings of her sorrow at the apparent (but false) loss of Tamino's love. "Tamino, tell me why?"

Though the staging and costumes suggest an 18th century setting, there are some contemporary references scattered throughout the libretto. Despite their modernity, they all seem to meld perfectly with the action and the story. Two instances stand out: first, when the Three Ladies ogle the unconscious Tamino and one sings that he must spend a "lot of time at the gym"; and later when Monostatos is seeking revenge and says, "we're storming the Capitol ... er, castle." (when the Berkeley audience roared its approval, Monostatos turned to the audience and said "What?" Long pause. "I wasn't there." More laughter.).

If you don't get yourself to Berkeley before this closes on December 8, you will have missed out on one of the most beautiful, imaginative, brilliant productions to grace a Bay Area stage this year. The Matchbox Magic Flute has–fittingly–supplanted Berkeley Rep's production of Mexodus as my favorite show of 2024. I'm begging you, don't miss this.

The Matchbox Magic Flute runs through December 8, 2024, at Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Roda Theatre, 2015 Addison Street, Berkeley CA. Shows are Tuesdays and Wednesdays at 7:00pm; Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00pm. Matinees are Saturdays and Sundays at 2:00pm. There are additional matinees on November 21 at 1:00pm and November 24 at 2:00pm. There is no show on November 13 or December 4. Tickets range from $25-$139. For tickets and information, please visit www.berkeleyrep.org or call the box office at 510-647-2949.