You know what they say: "Keep your friends close and your family closer." No, wait—that's keep your enemies closer. Oh, well—what's the difference?

Not much for the three relatives of The Boys, Kris Elgstrand's intriguing but ultimately disappointing play, receiving its world premiere production at Azuka.

Adult brothers Des (Mike Dees) and Donny (Pete Pryor) have returned to a drab family home for their father's funeral. Des is gentle, responsible and perhaps simpleminded—he's also prone to disabling headaches and (when somebody mentions his limitations) dark moods. Donny is a hotheaded screwup with a chip on his shoulder. The boys' mother died long ago (all Des wants from the estate is a porcelain figurine that reminds him of her) but Margaret, their stepmother (Mary Martello), remains. Together, the three must sort out not only the estate, but their charged relationships.

The Boys presents the classic critic's half-full/half-empty conundrum. Half-full: Here are three wonderful Philadelphia actors working together as a coherent ensemble (credit also to director Kevin Glaccum, who leads with an unobtrusive but steady guiding hand). The look of the production is just right, with its threadbare living room full of telling touches (mud-colored Barcalounger, plastic lace tablecloth). Playwright Elgstrand provides some moments that are funny, sad and (best of all) both. There's a promising playwright's voice in here.

But (half-empty now): Elgstrand lets his voice become swamped in imitation of others, especially the staccato profanity of David Mamet (you'll lose track of the number of "fucks" in the first 30 seconds), and the familial creepiness of Sam Shepard, whose True West may be Elgstrand's model for The Boys.

Lots of writers borrow from Shepard, but few get it right. That's the case with Elgstrand. What True West has in abundance—surprise twists, nuances and the sense of genuine danger—is missing here. The Boys hits a jittery, nervous-energy high from the start, and then has no place to go. For nearly 90 minutes, we visit and revisit the same problems. Some new variables are introduced along the way, but ultimately they become mired in the same repetitive actions. It's a particular problem for Pete Pryor as Donny—any five minutes of his performance are marvelous, but he does so much of it we become bored. Tension doesn't build in The Boys—it dissipates, before what should be a very effective ending.

Still, there's enough here to make The Boys worth seeing, particularly in the performances. Mary Martello is especially fine—in a character that could become cliched, she is consistently compelling, unexpected and above all, human.

THE BOYS Through Feb. 19, Azuka Theatre, Second Stage at the Adrienne, 2030 Sansom St., 215-733-0255, www.azukatheatre.org