Robin Soans’s sometimes bracing play is based on the testimony of people involved in a youth club in Burnley, a Lancashire town traditionally associated with mining and textiles but since the summer of 2001 better known as a hotbed of racial tensions.

Harvesting a variety of views (albeit not those of the political Right), Soans reaches beyond Burnley’s media image to create a more complex picture of its discontents, and the town is used to represent some of the larger problems of contemporary Britain.

We watch an ethnically mixed group of teenagers rehearsing a theatre project, overseen by pregnant director Bella and redoubtable social worker Trish. The young people’s anger and anxieties are never far from the surface, and the rhetorical gestures of politicians and community workers exacerbate their sarcasm and resentment.

It’s boredom more than race hate that fuels local aggression, they suggest. A few clichés about race and religion are borne out but there are also compelling individual stories waiting to be heard.

The girls speak movingly of sexual abuse and the unexpected intricacies of arranged marriages, the boys of racial insults and the prickly allure of violence.

The material is sensitive, and there are moments of arresting power. There’s also some ebullient comedy. Yet the rawness of the piece is close to being shambolic, and the cast’s interactions with the audience are gawky.

Max Stafford-Clark’s production certainly has zest. There is pert ensemble work, and there are strong performances from Celia Imrie as Trish and Stephanie Street as her assistant Aneesa. In smaller roles, Lisa Kerr and Muzz Khan have charisma.

Nevertheless, it’s a disjointed effort — and overlong. The two halves seem to be two different plays: the first has considerable sparkle and charm but the second feels a little too much
like a lecture.

Until 5 December. Information:
020 7452 3000.