In The Inexplicable Redemption of Agent G, currently at the Incubator Arts Project at St. Marks Church, playwright Qui Nguyen blends the pop culture aesthetic that has been the hallmark of his work with the Vampire Cowboys Theatre Company with metatheatrics and pungent autobiography. It's a little like James Bond and Jackie Chan meet Luigi Pirandello, which prove to be an uneasy hybrid -- albeit one that also proves to be fascinating, occasionally touching, and frequently hysterical.

Fans of the Vampire Cowboys' previous work will not be disappointed by the show's opening, a kind of Rambo-esque sequence (featuring Nguyen's deft and daffy fight choreography) set in the jungles of Vietnam (brought to life by some grand projections that fit inside huge letters that both spell out the country's name and are the focal point of Nick Francone's scenic design).

The play's tone shifts after the battle, when its hero, Hung Tran (a robust and expertly calibrated turn from Paco Tolson) brings The Playwright (played with wryness and a certain sweet nerdiness by William Jackson Harper) to the stage. Hung, an incarnation of Nguyen's cousin, a Vietnamese refugee who survived a horrific journey in the China Sea, demands that Playwright tell his story truthfully, announcing "You're here to help turn this story out correct, playwright."

What follows is part noir suspense drama: Hung's return to his homeland is spurred by a mysterious letter that he receives from San (Amy Kim Waschke), a woman who was the last person to see his parents alive, and the daughter of a man who was also on the boat that carried Hung away from Vietnam.

It's also partially post-racial meditation on ethnicity and stereotypes: there comes a moment when Molly (Bonnie Sherman) looks at her playwright boyfriend, who's being played by an African-American actor, and says "I think down deep…you're a white guy," and when The Playwright is confronted by Hung about his race, The Playwright declares "And in my heart - in my heart - I'm black."

Agent G is also just sometimes smartly turned pop culture satire. Shane Rettig's original songs parody not only Katy Perry's "California Girls," but also a Sesame Street classic, and there's a terrific motorcycle chase scene that brings to mind any number of scenes from action-adventure thrillers. Finally, Nguyen borrows from contemporary theater traditions, invoking David Henry Hwang's Yellow Face, to amusing effect, even as he comically explores his own theatrical training and experience.

It's a tribute to the fine work of director Robert Ross Parker and the talented ensemble that Nguyen's ambitious and dizzying theatrical mash-up coalesces into what feels like a true theatrical whole.