‘Iya-Ile’ is a fire-cracker of a show from Oladipo Agboluaje, with enough rich characters, big ideas and theatrical gusto to fill a festival. Agboluaje only gives himself two hours and makes the occasional stumble in his frantic attempt to capture Lagos life on-stage. These slips are understandable – this is a fiendishly ambitious play – and are kept in check with some tight and witty directing (Femi Elofowojue Jr) and designer Ultz’s sumptuous, lifelike set.

Agboluaje plunges us head-first into Lagos life under military rule in 1989: it is a world in which thuggish police break into dance, the dialogue is bloody hard to make out and almost everybody sings. He refuses to patronise his audience with an easy way into this foreign world and chooses to let life loose on-stage rather than merely represent it. The result is a show that might confuse at moments, but is also engaging, tangible and real.

Every character bursts into life fully formed and fizzing with energy. Although the play is set in an affluent Nigerian Chief’s household, Agboluaje makes sure both servant and master share the spotlight. This democratic characterisation ensures Iya-Ile is both deeply textured and neatly symbolic. Agboluaje recognises what the militant Nigerian government cannot; that the poor are the rich in waiting and those with bit-parts today could, with a slight shift in power, become key players tomorrow.

But although this rich medley of characters is testament to Agboluaje’s sophisticated talent, they also risk undermining his play. There isn’t enough time to do them justice and the play starts to sink beneath a gluttony of riches. Agboulaje has a great gift for voices, but he needs to learn to tune them out in the play’s quieter moments.

If only Agboluaje had stuck closer to his feuding Chief and wife. These two are the emotional and symbolic centre of Iya-Ile, with the constant fluxes in domestic power neatly reflecting Nigeria’s struggle for civil rule. But despite laying some excellent groundwork, Agboluaje forgets to follow up. This could have been a blinding play – one in which the political and personal merge seamlessly – but Agboluaje gets increasingly distracted by his cluster of colourful characters. It makes for an exceptionally effervescent piece, but one whose key ideas have been slightly lost in the whirlwind.

Till 14 June 2009