The characters have names and archetypal traits derived from Yoruban gods. None of this is crucial to understanding the play, mind you, but fascinating.

Ogun Size is the strong one, with a solid business repairing cars and an unshakable work ethic. He’s the tough-love dispenser, but with a softer, easily penetrated side beneath the veneer.

Ogun’s brother Oshoosi is the wandering one, antsy for an adventure — a trip to Mexico, maybe — or just for sex. His tendencies land him in trouble; he has just been released from jail when the play opens.

Then there is Elegba, named after the trickster god, the tempter. He’s a cousin to Sportin’ Life in “Porgy and Bess,” strangely cool and beguiling, always popping up to take advantage of a situation. Elegba shared a cell and a whole lot more with Oshoosi, and he clearly wants to reclaim something of what they had — even if neither man really understands what that was.

Put these ingredients into a play bound up heavily in mythical matters, and you’d likely have quite a bore. McCraney leaves all that in the background, so that the implications can sink in later, when you find yourself still thinking about everything you’ve seen and heard (and you will).

McCraney’s language achieves a striking richness at times, as when a woman’s sadness is likened to an after-rain breeze. But the poetry is so deftly applied that it never turns arch. There’s abundant humor, too, in the text.

The people in this play, prone to throwing profanity and the N-word around, remain down-to-earth even when they speak stage directions to the audience (“Ogun exits,” etc.) — one of the playwright’s quirkier, but oddly appealing, ideas.

Using a theater-in the-round set-up and a spare, evocative scenic design by Daniel Ettinger, the Everyman production provides an almost uncomfortably intimate experience. The cast, directed with a sure eye for detail by Derek Goldman, creates a brilliant, finely meshed ensemble that moves with choreographic eloquence.

Yaegel T. Welch brings a compelling voice and layers of telling texture to the role of Ogun. Chinaza Uche likewise taps effectively into the multiple elements that make up Oshoosi. The two men do extraordinarily affecting work in the play’s most cathartic scene for the brothers, ignited by a vintage Ottis Redding record.

Powell Lawrence shines as Elegba, so sinewy and assured in movement, yet with eyes that subtly speak of the character’s vulnerability and longing.

The play sometimes loses steam, and the ending lacks weight. But, by any measure, “The Brothers Size” is a major achievement. So is this production.

Performances run through April 15.

PHOTOS BY STAN BAROUH