The Ritual Slaughter of Gorge Mastromas, Vicky Featherstone’s first main show as Artistic Director of The Royal Court Theatre, London, literally spells its central question out in large, flashing neon letters at the back of the stage: Goodness or Cowardice? That is, are the decisions we make that are accepted as the right thing to do a result of an inherent inner goodness, or the result of being too afraid to reach higher and more ambitiously?

An interesting question which Dennis Kelly’s play spells out flamboyantly in the opening of the play but fails to explore fully: eye-catching neon is all well and good, but the ultimate result is frustration at what feels like a missed opportunity to subtly explore the play’s central premise.

The story of Gorge (pronounced George) is a familiar one: in a Faustian rise and fall, he transforms from a nervous, well-behaved school boy to the poster boy for cut-throat capitalism and then into a successful misery memoirist. There are some brilliantly funny moments along the way, particularly in the mockery of misery-lit, and the final section is nothing short of harrowing in the bleakness of the wizened, wasted life it portrays. Ultimately, however, the play paints its message in broad, unoriginal strokes: capitalism isn’t friendly, lying is a dangerous game, and what goes up must come down.

That said, there is a huge amount to recommend in The Ritual Slaughter. Featherstone’s direction is bold, particularly in the decision to open the play with a twenty-minute narrative section, with the cast seated on chairs facing the audience, telling them a story. This feels too long-winded – and indeed, the play could do with significant cutting – but it works, making full use of the talented ensemble cast and mirroring the innovative structure of Kelly’s play.

Structurally, the play is very strong, with the use of a chorus a particularly good move. It cuts through the melodrama of moments that stray a little close to cliché with a  pleasingly self-aware nod to theatricality. Constant references to time – including brilliant attention to detail in stopping all the onstage clocks when ‘time stopped’ in the first half – are interesting if under-explored, and the blurring of lines between falsehood and reality is unsettlingly well-portrayed as Gorge begins to believe his own lies about his life. There are points, however, where the direction works less well – such as the repeated motif of dressing and undressing Gorge, which feels as laboured as unoriginal – and at points the surrealism undermines moments of potential emotional impact.

The strongest point of Kelly’s play is the acting. The talented cast take on their various roles with aplomb, and despite the play’s length, the level of energy never dips. Kate O’Flynn is worthy of particular mention for her portrayal of Louisa whichtreads the line between sharp comedy and the tragedy of a damaged character with sensitivity and impeccable timing. Equally, Jonathan McGuinness as Gorge’s estranged brother Gel delivers throwaway lines with heart-breaking poignancy that is genuinely moving. And of course, Tom Brooke as the mercurial Gorge himself truly excels: his performance is powerful, versatile and almost unbelievably charismatic, his portrayal of Gorge as an old man at the end of the play  both convincing and deeply upsetting.

Kelly’s play, ultimately, feels like something of an endurance test for the audience, and it feels like a wasted opportunity to say something new about its subject matter. It is a curious piece, and it leaves you with a sense of having witnessed something almost fantastic, just missing its aim by inches. Nevertheless, for its talented cast, clever structure, Featherstone’s courageous if not always successful directorial choices, and the uncomfortable emotional impact it leaves on its audience, The Ritual Slaughter is worth seeing.

The Ritual Slaughter of Gorge Mastromas will be at The Royal Theatre, London till 19th October.