By my tally, this is the fifth new play from Roy Williams in the past year. This latest piece, with its faintly undercooked quality, suggests that Williams may be taking on too much.
Here, he offers a series of intersecting narratives. The unifying factor is the decaying tower block that gives the play its title and houses many of the characters. Two brothers are at loggerheads: Frank, about to go to jail for drug dealing, and Stephen, a thriving lawyer seeking to buy the building outright. Their mother, Jean, is haunted by the parental failings of herself and her faithless ex-husband. Inter-generational problems are fuelled by Frank's difficulty in communicating with his gay son, Adam, whose own best friend, Sean, is trying to cope with a crackhead dad.
Williams's main argument is clear: many immigrant families are confronted by cyclical misfortune, but the young can, by an effort of will, overcome their genetic inheritance. He writes strong scenes; the best show how Adam and Sean's sexual confusion is compounded by the mockery of a teenage girl. But there are too many loose ends, and Williams is vague about social and economic detail.
Paulette Randall's vigorous production makes atmospheric use of a Bernard Herrmann-style score, and the play's choppiness is overcome through ebullient acting. Claire Benedict, as the guilt-wracked Jean, and Geoff Aymer, doubling as her feckless ex and a bumbling long-time admirer, are outstanding. Mark Monero has real presence as the jail-bound Frank, and there is good work from Curtis Cole and Tendayi Jembere as the mixed-up kids. In the end, however, it is a play of vivacious episodes, in which Angel House itself never acquires a distinctive, determining character.
· Until February 9. Box office: 01473 295 900. Then touring.
