Cuckoo Edible Magic

Cuckoo Edible Magic

Reed Flores

San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Company (SFBATCO)

It is Tumaiguini, the first month of the CHamoru year; and as the moon shifts to a new phase, something has ripped a hole in the universe, permitting a dark force to enter the world.  Across the San Francisco Bay Area, imported rice cookers, elderly Tai Chi women, and dark shadowy figures on BART are on the attack.  Word is spreading that “Something is here … Nothing will be the same.”  As fiery comets crisscross the skies, the only hope for survival turns out to be in the hands of Ren and Mai, two video-gaming Zoomers who are more than a bit high from some yummy edibles.  Such is the set up for Reed Flores’ Cuckoo Edible Magic, now in its world premiere by San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Company (SFBATCO) in a production the pre-announcer warns is “the craziest, stupidest, funniest show you’ve ever seen.”

Each of those adjectives certainly applies time and again to much of this wild and wooly outing in the intimate Magic Theatre setting; but this first play by Reed Flores in its premiere staging still has a number of moments where dialogue moves too slowly, where events portrayed are confusing, and where editing of the two-hour production (plus intermission) could perhaps tighten the action and up the pace to be a one-act, ninety-or-so minute winner.  That said, there is much to celebrate in Reed’s wacky yet heartfelt script; and certainly laughter rang often from the audience in the Sunday matinee performance of opening weekend.

Mai (Nicole Apostol Bruno) and Ren (Dom Refuerzo) have post-edible munchies and are searching Mai’s kitchenette for salvation.  A can of spam calls for some rice accompaniment.  Mai — to Ren’s disbelief and horror — normally only eats instant rice, having never opened the huge bag of Three Ladies Jasmine Rice given by Mai’s mother two years prior.  

When they also discover that Mai’s never-used rice cooker is on the blink, Ren heads to the corner market to buy a new one, only to find the stock is empty.  That is, except for a display, top-of-the-line Korean model that sales for $574.99 — one that to Ren’s surprise and horror starts talking, demanding Ren take the cooker named Cuckoo home with him.  

Just as Mai arrives to see what is keeping Ren, Cuckoo breaks away from the display screaming “Let Cuckoo take care of you  … Cuckoo loves you.”  Throwing ramen and sauce bottles at the now-raging cooker, the two BFFs are just getting a glimpse of what is to come during their next few hours.

As Mai and Ren run from the attacking cooker, they meet a strange, gender-bending person in gaudy gown and a flower-bedecked head band who introduces themself as “Unkol if ya nasty, Auntie after sunset” (or just Unk for short, played with pizzazz by Rudy Guerrero).  Noting the strange blue sky above them, Unk informs them  “I think you have been chosen to save the world … Long story short, you need to prepare for battle.”  Handing Ren a pair of nunchucks, Unk assures them, “You two dumbasses could save the world.”

It turns out that Mai’s neglect of real rice has more than a little pissed off the Three Ladies pictured on the large bag stored away in the kitchen.  In this moment when dark forces are roaming the strangely-hued SF skies, the Three Ladies are out to seek revenge and to destroy all instant rice everywhere.  

And thus Ren and Mai must prepare for battles around the Bay as they gather help from friends and family members.  Kung fu chops and kicks as well weapons like a sandal, video game controller, katana sword, and blow torch become their defenses as Villainous Forces off the label of a rice bag meet them in battle throughout the East Bay. 

Along with the cartoonish plot line of fighting invading Rice Ladies, Reed Flores’ script balloons to include multiple issues both Ren and Mai have with their parents   along with the unresolved grief of one lost parent, a sister who is still mothering her younger siblings now an adult, struggles to express and have accepted queer identity, and a possible flirtation and romance between a gender-bending twosome.  While some of these inclusions add emotional elements that pull at our heartstrings, the plot line becomes overly crowded in the midst of surreal, often bizarre incursions by suddenly aggressive Tai Chi women in a park or by Three Ladies on a rampage in a Ranch 99 market trying to destroy all instant rice (elders and Ladies played with spunk and spark by Gwynnevere Cristobal, Julie Kuwabara, and Amanda Le Nguyen).

Starting on their world-saving journey alone, Ren and Mai are one-by-one joined by Mai’s motherly but also bold sister, Sam (Lisa Hu); Ren’s criticizing but loving mother, Lin (Paula Vercudia); the corner market’s Worker who says little but has their eyes on Ren (Mickey Skinner); and nice and nasty Unk (one of several roles Rudy Gurerrero plays, including both Gen Zs’ fathers).  Particularly outstanding among this total cast of nine is Paula Vercudia’s poignant and funny portrayal of Mia’s mom, Lin, who has a come-to-the-altar conversation with her queer daughter where confrontation, confession, and acceptance combine for a powerful mini-aside in the play.

Director Michelle Talgarow has her hands full attempting to keep the sprawling series of actions and scenes and the many ins-and-outs of characters to hang together and to keep moving.  Success is mixed, with scene changes conducted by the always present and watching ensemble members being particularly challenging.  

James Ard’s sound design fills the air with everything from explosive booms to sounds of BART whooshing by in speedy treks.  Madeline Berger humorously outfits a sack of rice come to life; an Unk/Auntie in flowing, flowery wear; and Millennials in their signature wear.  Projections designed by Tyler Miller constantly flow across the back walls to designate settings, celestial phenomena, and cartoonish action; unfortunately the central, two-door set design of Mikiko Uesegi and the layout of the Magic make it difficult often to see some of the projections.

For all its purposeful lunacy and playfulness, San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Company (SFBATCO) production of Reed Flores’ Cuckoo Edible Magic has a very clear, very timely message: Bad things are happening in our world from unwanted invaders (maybe one with Orange Hair and one who is the richest man on earth).  The play leaves us with the clear suggestion that the best means to defend ourselves and fight back is to form coalitions with friends and family, healing old wounds while solidifying new relationships.  Not a bad prescription from a play that is announced as crazy, stupid, and funny.

Rating: 3 E

Cuckoo Edible Magic through March 8, 2025, continues in a two-hour (plus intermission) world premiere production by San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Company (SFBATCO) at the Magic Theatre, 2 Marina Blvd., San Francisco.  Tickets are for both in-person and camera-recorded performances are available at https://www.sfbatco.org/.

Photo Credits: Alexa “LexMex” Treviño/SFBATCO