Second wives, first sons, unopened wills, great expectations: the staples of a classic English social comedy are all deliciously present.
Yet this particular Estate, green and pleasant though it sounds, lies far from these shores. It's in Lagos, Nigeria, where, just like here, nothing is certain except death, taxes and family feuds.
Oladipo Agboluaje throws us immediately, grippingly into the maelstrom that is the Adeyemi family in funeral-preparation mode. Chief Adeyemi is dead and Helen, whom we tantalisingly learn is his second wife and former house girl, is set on a media splash. Yinka and Soji, grown-up sons from the first marriage, brood about their inheritance. Sola thinks about her half-brother with affection that goes beyond sisterly. The restive servants talk of unions. Oh, and the electricity supply looks less than promising.
It's spirited, humorous, involving stuff, as Agboluaje deftly propels the warring family through death's public formalities to its noholdsbarred private reckoning. Even though there is a clever hint of The Cherry Orchard about the decisive property deal, the writing tails off towards the end. This is a pity, as it abandons these compelling characters to a somewhat underwhelming conclusion.
Production company Tiata Fahodzi sent both designer and costume consultant to Nigeria for research so the attractive split-level living- room set is filled with authentic colour. Portraits of the Chief 's first and second families square up over a photo of the man himself - all obscured when Helen (Ellen Thomas) and her magnificent headgear pass by.
Thomas is tremendous as the posturing Technicolor widow determined to cling to her hardwon social status. Pastor Pakimi, who swiftly secures for himself the position of Helen's new best friend, is played with snake-in-the-grass suavity by the director, Femi Elufowoju Jr. The Estate's doors are only open for another 10 days, so make haste. Just don't come with a relative.
Until 17 June (0870 429 6883).
The Estate
