Plays often encounter the plague of eventual obscurity when they create a predictable leading archetype: a character deserving of critique, not transcending a plane of stereotypical.

In “Fences,” August Wilson’s 1985 odyssey-like exploration of Black masculinity, this is anything but a concern in the show’s intricate protagonist, though temporarily antagonistic, Troy Maxson.

The April 4 performance of “Fences” at The Pennsylvania Playhouse, Bethlehem, was seen for this review.

Troy, a former baseball player itching to go professional in a constrictive time, is introduced as a man battling against insurmountable odds.

His black skin, eerily reflecting contemporary social issues, serves as a metaphorical fence, one of the many through the production, confining him to a life of blue-collar captivity.

With a pessimistic outfit, worn in stride as a victim of circumstance and sometimes his own choices, Willie Wo embodies this complex character: An everyman grappling with systemic and racial prejudice.

Wo portrays Maxson as a self-indulgent man’s man and his antithesis, effortlessly navigating Wilson’s script in a way that evokes empathy.

Loving him feels instinctual when rooting for the underdog, the Black man in a white world, to succeed. While true, Wo also reminds us of the inherent darkness in Maxson’s character in showing the underbelly of, at times, toxic masculinity and the complications of proposed manhood.

The beauty of this two-act tragedy of a man’s unraveling lies in the character’s structural duality. This complexity is only possible with an actor as versatile as Willie Wo.

From the exaggerated monologues dancing between drama and irreverent comedy, craving tears and applause simultaneously, this is a man deliberate in his approach.

Deliberate body language of a man deeply immersed in the source material results in an authenticity that is hard to ask for. The essence of the play relies on removing oneself from sensationalism and flirting with the authentic self.

Leading as the show’s reliable narrator, if there even is one, Wo is supported by an ensemble that almost personifies the so-called “fence.”

Each character around Troy mirrors a facet of himself: his wife represents stability, his best friend embodies everything that is positive masculinity, and his sons, and his eventual daughter, serve as reminders of what could have been.

While not a one-man show, “Fences” exudes an energy that reinforces the idea of secondary characters as extensions of an inner dialogue. They are almost ghostly.

Although the actors share the stage with him, there is an implicit suggestion that we are witnessing a cautionary tale told in reverse. We, as the audience, are not merely spectators of Troy’s unfulfilled dreams; we are invited to be a part of it instead.

In what could be defined as immersive, we construct a fence of our own as opportunistic onlookers, perhaps ironically, ensuring that no one escapes its confines.

To evoke such a profound sense of meaning, the cast must be on equal footing. This balance of high-level performance leads to a euphoric state of true escapism, allowing us to become Troy himself, Rose herself, and begin to see ourselves in these archetypes.

Under the nurturing guidance of director Adam Newborn, each performer has unflinching realness, readiness and mutual strength.

Tackling a dense play like “Fences,” with its nuanced script and provocative themes, is no small feat. Yet, audiences are left with a collective of Black and Afro-Latino caretakers, infinitely gifted artists, who demonstrate the enduring power of August Wilson’s musings for the modern eye.

To achieve a sensation where one could derive meaning like this, the cast of actors has to be on even footing. Doing so leads to a certain euphoria of true escapism in which we can become Troy, we can become Rose, we can start to see ourselves in the archetypes.

Each person onstage acts with an emphasis on realness, readiness and mutual sturdiness. Tackling a dense play like “Fences,” given its tactful script and exploitative topics, is no easy calling.

Devin T. Dobson, as Troy’s mild-mannered and sensible friend, rests in a natural posture that inspires envy. He floats through the script with the ease of J. Cole on a “Forest Hills Drive” track. The chemistry between him and Wo feels like the warmth of a childhood friend who you always want to reconnect with.

Similarly, Juanita Renay waves through the dialogue with an air of lightness and direct studiedness when necessary. Renay’s interpretation of Rose, arguably the show’s heartbeat, screams power, self-assuredness and occasionally will elicit a “You tell ‘em” moment.

Watching Renay take on various roles as a Lehigh Valley mainstay has been a delightful pleasure; she is a director’s dream canvas.

TyRonn Brewington, Jaciel Córdoba, Marquett Ferell, and the charming newcomer who is Jalianna M. Miller complete the Pennsylvania Playhouse cast of “Fences.” Memorable in their own right, as experts of their respective crafts, they are all unanimously responsible for solidifying a play adaptation worthy of unresting ovation.

There is no Troy Maxson without the family around him, and without his family, there is no fence ever built.

“Fences,” 7:30 p.m. April 11, 12; 3 p.m. April 13. Pennsylvania Playhouse, 390 Illicks Mill Road, Bethlehem. Tickets: 610-865-6665, http:www.paplayhouse.org