Stan Egi — a favorite in the local stand-up comedy scene — directs an accomplished cast in an excellent production of Philip Kan Gotanda's "Fish Head Soup" at the University of Hawai'i's Lab Theatre this weekend.

Gotanda's study of racism and personal defeat is an edgy, quirky story projected through a distorted lens that turns reality a bit sideways for a critical examination. The result is simultaneously funny, terribly sad, and hopeful.

The central character is Mat Iwasaki (Chris Doi), son to a Japanese-American family that has never recovered from the impact of their internment during World War II.

The father (Dann Seki) has mentally checked out, existing in a twilight zone where he fishes for his drowned son. The mother (Jodi Yamada) is the part-time mistress to a Caucasian businessman who enjoys dressing her in traditional kimonos. Second son Victor (Daniel Nishida) has a menial job in a Japanese-owned hotel where he is ridiculed for his inability to speak Japanese.

But when Mat returns to his family, disclosing that he had only faked his death, it is some time before they — and the audience — come to accept that he is not a ghost.

"Fish Head Soup" becomes a parable on the cost of not fitting in.

Mat rejected his Asian heritage by pretending to be something else — Italian, Hispanic, even dead. But he reconnected with his roots on a visit to Japan and returns home to borrow money to finance a movie. He needs his father well enough to sign a mortgage on the family home.

Director Egi, himself a seasoned actor who has appeared in films such as "Boys on the Side" and innumerable TV series, fine tunes his cast so that their performances add extra interest to the offbeat story line. His key is to emphasize the characters' physicality.

The opening sequence tells us much about them even before they speak. Victor guides his shuffling father into the house, removes his coat, and eases him into an armchair. The mother strides through the room, self-centered and uncaring.

Suddenly, the old man climbs onto the cushions, pantomiming a fishing cast that he will often repeat. Victor soothes him with a Japanese song. It's a compelling moment that pulls an audience into the drama. Who are these people? Why are they like this? What happens next? Provoking those questions is the essence of good storytelling.

Doi turns in a broad, wide-ranging portrayal of Mat. He swaggers through the living room, flops atop the table like a beached fish and — with Victor — dances, fights and hugs.

Nishida's performance as Victor is equally powerful, but charged with internal conflict that balances Mat's extroversion. He's an emotional wreck, wanting to make everything better, but locked into pointless tasks and beset by multiple demands.

Seki's facial expressions and posture communicate volumes and Yamada's body language changes drastically between scenes with her family and those with her unseen lover.

Ulu Mills' set also subtly communicates. She fronts a traditional living room with a fragmented stage apron that projects broken pieces and short ramps into the audience. There is a waterfall and koi pond and a stylized automobile set back into the wall of the lighting booth.

The action is attracted to an old legend that the blood of a 100-year-old carp has profound curative power. Ultimately, the fish-head soup of the title may heal this family and offer a message of hope to all who are disenfranchised.