Fences

Every frame of Fences conveys a heartfelt affection for its source material.

That’s probably because this adaptation of the award-winning play by the late August Wilson, directed by Denzel Washington, features most of the same cast that starred in the Tony-winning stage version a few years back.

It’s an evocative and powerful glimpse into the volatile dynamics of a working-class family during the 1950s that touches on some raw emotions in its darker moments, and to its credit, isn’t always easy to watch as a result.

Like all of Wilson’s work, it takes place in Pittsburgh, where Troy (Washington) is a sanitation worker who spends much of his spare time drinking with his neighbor (Stephen McKinley Henderson) and reminiscing about his bygone days as a baseball star.

Although he adores his wife, Rose (Viola Davis), he holds some hostility toward the country’s racial inequalities and toward members of his own family, including his two sons (Russell Hornsby and Jovan Adepo) — from different relationships — and his mentally challenged brother (Mykelti Williamson).

Troy’s stubbornness earns the occasional strong rebuke from Rose, who uses common sense to balance her husband’s short-sighted temperament. “The world is changing and you can’t even see it,” she warns him.

The screenplay retains as much of the original dialogue as possible. And it zings coming from this ensemble cast. Washington doesn’t do much visually to free the material from its stagebound roots — most of the action takes place around a single location — although he does capture the gritty texture of a blue-collar neighborhood.

His performance brings depth to a motor-mouthed character who projects swagger to mask insecurities and regrets, and tends to be condescending to cover his own misgivings. Davis is terrific, and so is Adepo, a relative newcomer who wasn’t part of the cast on stage.

Plus, although the characters are distinct in terms of race and socioeconomic background, there’s a universal resonance to Troy’s rants about everything from baseball to civil rights to jobs and family. Yet there are specific issues beneath the surface.

Along the way, there’s a lot of talk and not much action. The pace is deliberate, perhaps excessively at times. However, while it might ultimately be a better fit on stage, this bittersweet chronicle offers some simply but profound lessons about being a man. Unlike Troy, we just need to stop talking and start listening.

Rated PG-13, 138 minutes.