One man’s quest for “the real” in the realm where rock music meets theater becomes a greatly entertaining journey for an audience in “Passing Strange,” which had its world premiere at the Berkeley Repertory Theatre last week.

The title comes from Shakespeare’s “Othello,” from the scene in which the ill-fated Moor describes how he won Desdemona: “When I did speak of some distressful stroke, That my youth suffer’d, My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore, in faith, ‘twas strange, ‘twas passing strange.”

The author of this work, however, is Stew, a gifted singer-songwriter who performs with his band, the Negro Problem. (Three of the four members performing in “Passing Strange” are white; hmm, there’s the problem).

In an interview with Berkeley Rep’s dramaturg, Stew said that he’d only been to a handful of plays in his life, but having read a bit about “the vibe at (Shakespeare’s) Old Globe … it seems like those worlds were far more rock ‘n’ roll than the stuffed shirt vibe that scares most people away from the theater … people standing around consuming alcohol, watching men onstage dressed up as women. And the joint was in a sketchy neighborhood? Wait a minute, I recognize that dive! I’ve been playing there all my life.”

What Stew has created, working in collaboration with Director Annie Dorsen, has been called “the cutting edge of musical theater,” by Oskar Eustis at the Public Theater, but is, as well, evocative of roots of theater as well. Stew, wearing his black suit and fedora, is on stage with his guitar and his four-piece band through out the performance, playing the role of narrator, minstrel, storyteller — the ancient bard in 21st-century setting.

His lyrics are rich and complex, humorous and ironic, adding a fascinating layer to the story that unfolds, as the musicians perform, four of them semi-submerged on the stage throughout the show. At times the six members of the cast pick up the song, creating a dynamic interplay of the elements.

The hero of “Passing Strange” is identified only as Youth, portrayed engaging enthusiasm by Daniel Breaker. He first appears on stage as every sleeping teenager, rolled up in a ball while his mother (Elsa Davis) tries to rouse her “pillowhead.” Her goal is to get him to go to church, although she herself is skeptical about what she calls, “the Baptist fashion show.” Davis’ intelligent character forms the Youth’s “gravity” — something he doesn’t realize, of course, until he loses her.

It’s at church that Youth experiences a kind of epiphany and discovers God in music; and in the church choir loft, he finds heaven in the form of Edwina, played by de’Adre Aziza. She, like the other cast member, turns up in an intriguing variety of roles. She’s a member of the Baptist fashion show and Venus in the choir loft, as well the adventure awaiting Youth when he sets out from Los Angeles to find the real, leaving his middle-class African-American background where “the equality you’ve been struggling for is nothing more than the opportunity to be as boring a white folks.”

He goes to Amsterdam (where “there’s hashish on the menu!”) and to Berlin, where he falls in with the revolutionary art crowd. There, to give himself intellectual credibility beyond the lightweight reputation of Americans, and to get laid by the gorgeous artist Desi (Rebecca Naomi Jones) he follows, he creates a ghetto past, which works much as Othello’s “passing strange” tales for Desdemona.

Jones also shifts chameleon-like between the roles of a punk rocker in Los Angeles, a free spirit in Amsterdam, a revolutionary who goes home for Christmas in Berlin and a church-going true believer back in Los Angeles.

The third member of the cast playing multiple roles is Chad Goodridge, who first appears as Franklin, the son of the Baptist minister and the leader of the choir, with a secret but largely unrealized life. “Slaves had options,” he tells Youth, “escape, revolt, death. Cowards ain’t got nothin’.”

Goodridge reappears when Youth lands in Amsterdam, but his most over-the-top character is Venus, a member of the bizarro Berlin commune. He struts about in his black leather overall, proclaiming, “What’s inside is just a lie, there’s only surface. There is no truth inside; there’s only blood and guts.”

The work is performed against a backdrop hidden by a curtain until Youth lands in Amsterdam, when the curtain falls to reveal a fantastic, giant network of neon lights — a motherboard on steroids — that flashes in different colors.

The absorbing characters, the rich musical dialogue, and the underlying humor that never lets the piece take itself too seriously all combine for an evening that’s strange — passing strange but marvelous.

After being developed on stage at Sundance, “Passing Strange” is at Berkeley Rep. until Dec. 3, before it heads to New York. Catch it if you can.

“Passing Strange,” Berkeley Repertory Theatre, 2025 Addison St., Berkeley. For tickets and information call (510) 647-2949 or visit www.berkeleyrep.org.