Jomar Tagatac Photo by Mark Kitaoka

Aspiring playwright Jay has just lost his job at American Theatre, his girlfriend of eight years recently walked out on him, and his notebooks are full of empty pages as his writing slump is now feeling permanent. That was not the greeting he wanted but probably the one he expected. After all, Mary Beth and his deceased father, Ronaldo, immigrated to the U.S. as a young couple from their beloved Philippines in order to make a good life for not-yet-born him. And here he is at 40 asking to move back home with his pockets and life totally empty.

This is Jeffrey Lo's set-up for one of the funniest, yet most heart-felt shows I have seen in a long time. Hillbarn Theatre & Conservatory is presenting the world premiere of Lo's latest play, Writing Fragments Home, in a production that is very much a love letter to his own mother, a Filipino-American nurse, and to immigrant parents of all nationalities who arrive on these shores hoping for the best lives possible for their current or yet-to-be-born children. With a stellar cast of five under the direction of Reed Flores, who pumps both imaginative jocularity and emotion into scenes soliciting loud laughter and eventually silent tears from the audience, this is a production that is definitely a must-see.

To ensure her son does not take up permanent residence, Mary Beth plops a couple of blankets on the living room couch, telling Jay his old room is off limits. As the first week passes, it does not appear to us or to her that he has done much more than sleep in his pajama bottoms with beanie on his head–except to make a mess, leading to one of their many and ongoing blow-ups. To witness Jomar Tagatac's Jay, one can only think of an overgrown teen who is in a seemingly permanent funk full of pout and poor-me. To watch Jen Cuevas' Mary Beth, one is just waiting for the next exasperated and irritated outburst of "I told you so" or "Clean up your mess." Both provide the audience much fodder for laughter–especially those of us who are parents (or children) and can imagine ourselves and our reactions to the same situation.

Jomar Tagatac and Jen Cuevas are fabulous in their roles. There is a tension between the two that is clearly not new-born; there are buttons each knows how to push to set the other one off, and there is a love that is evident in its depth, even when the spoken words or their shouted volume seem to indicate otherwise.

Jay is haunted by dreams that at times are like recurring nightmares–memories of the scene when his ex, Jasmine, walked out on him, or of the series of "thank you, but no's" that he heard from director after director about his submitted drafts of play after play. As he dreams, the people in his dreams suddenly appear to us (but not to him), with Jasmine, for example, hovering over the tossing and turning Jay while she tells him over and again, "You aren't the person I fell in love with ...You were someone with ambition ... the man I fell in love with was a dreamer." Or in later dreams, two rather pompous theatre directors exchange their "sorry, no's," explaining "our audiences" / "our funders" ... "are not ready for you."

But even as these dreams seem to zap his energy and motivation to move ahead, Jay finally picks up his pencil and writes a few words into a notebook. And as he does, his words become real life. "Outside the auditorium, Mitch appears–... his right arm in the air." Ta-da, unseen by Jay, a guy walks in the front door and raises his right arm obediently but with a curious, puzzled look on his face that seems to imply "Really?."

"After a moment, Sage enters ... [her] left arm is up in the air." And a young woman immediately appears from behind the living room's gold drapes, raises her left arm, and looks at Jay waiting more instructions. As Jay writes, words come from their mouths, only often to be taken back and re-said as Jay shakes his head frustrated and erases what was just written/said.

"Yo" (guy).

"What? Yo? (Jay, erasing)

"What up girl!" (Guy)

"Gross" (Jay, rubbing out as fast as he can).

"Hi" (guy)

"No" (Jay, pencil going scratch, scratch).

And so it goes as the audience can hardly contain themselves, especially as now there are also body, mouth, and eye movements that the two would-be lovers do and re-do at the pencil's command that are usually in reality more comic than romantic.

Jamiel St. Rose and Brigitte Losey are brilliantly hilarious in every respect as Actor and Actress, respectively. What becomes particularly uproarious is when Jay sees them for the first time; but even funnier, he is not able to do so until after Mary Beth walks in and wonders, "Who are your friends?" After a torrent of "Oh my God's" from the near-terrified Jay, the presence of his written creations becomes a bit old hat for both son and mother as we continue to laugh at the absurdity, especially when Actor walks in dressed exactly as Jay in a scene he writes too close to home or when Mary Beth decides what Jay is writing is too ridiculous and starts to act as a director, giving Actor instructions to make the scene more realistic.

However, Jay's writing still continues to be very real. His frustration grows even as his mother tries to convince him she wants him to succeed as a playwright (and no longer as a nurse) and offers more and more encouragement (usually through suggestions he does not want to hear). But Jeffrey Lo is not done with these two yet, and what follows is a story that is not just funny, but one that is intriguing, educating, and heartwarming about what it means to be an immigrant–especially an Asian immigrant–in the United States.

Into memories of both mother and son enters the fifth, very poignant character of the play, Ronaldo, the long-deceased, beloved husband and esteemed father. Jepoy Ramos emotes a calmness, an understanding, and unconditional love as he appears in his son's memories and daydreams while in Mary Beth's memory, he is delightfully once again a young man full of eager anticipation and adoration for a young bride as the two head to America. The more their memories of husband and father come back into their consciences and into their conversation, the more a resolution of both their tense relationship and of Jay's writing block approaches reality.

The comfy '70s look of a home that clearly has not changed much since Jay left for college is the period-perfect creation of Christopher Fitzer (scene) and Stephanie Dittbern (properties), quick to remind many of us in the audience what it is like to return to our parents' home to visit. Pamila Gray's lighting design wonderfully clarifies in slowly swirling shadows of changing colors when reality has turned to dreams. The sloppiness of Jay, the exacting neatness of Mary Beth, and the multiple and often quick character shifts of Actor and Actress are all visually clear through the costumes designed by Nolan Miranda.

A written review cannot actually do justice to Jeffrey Lo's imaginative mix of reality and dream/memory which must be seen to be fully appreciated. Hillbarn Theatre & Conservatory's world premiere of Lo's Writing Fragments Home should be on the to-do list of anyone and everyone who loves a good laugh and a little cry in a way that can only happen in live theatre.

Writing Fragments Home runs through May 4, 2025, at Hillbarn Theatre & Conservatory, 1285 East Hillsdale Blvd., Foster City CA. For tickets and information, please visit www.hillbarntheatre.org or call 650-349-6411.