Touted as the male answer to Trey Anthony’s megahit ’Da Kink in My Hair, her brother Darren’s first play promises a tough, truthful and edgy depiction of the inner workings of young African-Canadian men. But while Secrets of a Black Boy touches on a few serious issues (gun violence, physical abuse, racial profiling by police, gentrification), it doesn’t have much new to say about them.

It’s entertaining, to be sure. With a DJ spinning hip-hop and funk beats, five young black men talk candidly about women, sex, music, black stereotypes and their past and future while occasionally busting out the dance moves. Secrets gets lots of knowing laughs and applause from its target audience of young urban peeps who want to hear these characters tell it like it is. Still, you can’t help feeling there’s more to tell.

Set in Regent Park, the play brings these friends together in a beloved neighbourhood rec centre for one last time before it’s torn down to make way for condos. Their dominoes game is largely a transition device between private, revealing monologues to the audience by the characters, led by Sheldon (spoken-word artist Al St. Louis), a 32-year-old father who’s thinking of becoming a cop. There’s Sean (Shomari Downer), who discusses his preference for white women; Jerome (Darren Anthony), who has a dark secret about himself and his ex-girlfriend; and Jakes (Eli Goree), who’s acting as the best man at a childhood friend’s wedding that same day. Oddly enough, one of the script’s more powerfully written monologues (and many attempted comic moments) goes to its most annoying character: Biscuit (Samson Brown), a hyper teen in a Blue Jays cap with a grating high-pitched voice who aims for nothing in his future but money and chicks.

St. Louis (who has appeared in the Kink TV series) confidently carries the play as the group’s unofficial leader and straight man, while Anthony stands out nicely with his character’s guilt-racked monologue. Secrets is at its strongest and most sincere during these soliloquy bits; interactions between the characters come off less so, with dialogue that rings closer to high-school sitcom than Boyz N the Hood.

Secrets of a Black Boy hits good notes at times. Too bad it doesn’t go deeper, and misses the opportunity to be the taboo-busting slice of gritty realism it wants to be.