In John Leguizamo’s new play set in 1998, “The Other Americans,” the accomplished performer and writer for the stage and screen plays Nelson Castro, a 59-year-old Colombian-American man who has moved his family from what he calls “ghetto-ass Jackson Heights,” the Queens neighborhood of his birth, to the then more gentrified Forest Hills.

The aspirational nature of this move, and Nelson’s aspirational nature in general, are perhaps best captured by his decision to install a large, above-ground plastic pool on the new property. When his daughter’s fiancé teases him that “it’s not a real pool,” Nelson becomes defensive, noting that his other grown child, a son, has “always wanted a pool” since serving as captain on his school’s swim team.

“Americans” unfolds as this son, a 20-year-old named Nick, is arriving home after a period of initially unspecified trouble, and Mr. Leguizamo’s use of the pool as foreshadowing is about as subtle as a heart attack, as is much of what transpires in this well-meaning and gamely executed but ultimately clunky work.  

While best known as an actor, Mr. Leguizamo, who first gained attention as a standup comedian, has crafted acclaimed solo shows, among them “Freak” and “Latin History for Morons.” With this two-act, multi-character piece, he has something more ambitious in mind: a study, as the Public Theater’s artistic director, Oskar Eustis, puts it in a program note, of “the specific ways that the American dream can turn toxic in a Latin family.”

Mr. Eustis adds: “As Odets and Miller discovered for the American Jewish family, as Wilson revealed for the African American family, sharing in the American dream also means sharing in the poison that can lie buried in that dream.”

Most obviously, “Americans” nods to “Death of a Salesman” — in which the central family wasn’t identified as Jewish, of course, but that’s a subject for a separate and longer article. Yet it’s surely not leveling too great an insult to point out that Mr. Leguizamo’s writing lacks the depth and grace that typically characterized Arthur Miller’s, or Clifford Odets or August Wilson’s, for that matter.

That’s not to say that “Americans,” which had its premiere last year at Washington, D.C.’s Arena Stage, is entirely an exercise in hubris. Mr. Leguizamo has drawn his characters, native Americans who share a Latin heritage, with humor and compassion, and director Ruben Santiago-Hudson — another multifaceted veteran of theater, film, and television — has appointed actors who mine these qualities artfully.

Mr. Leguizamo’s Nelson in particular is plainly inspired by personal experience: The actor/writer was born in Colombia and emigrated to Queens with his parents during early childhood. A laundromat owner, Nelson has all the earmarks of a burned-out hustler; like Willie Loman in “Salesman,” he dreams and talks big while struggling professionally — though in Nelson’s case, it’s not clear that he had much game even in his prime.

We learn that Nelson’s dad divided a string of laundromats between Nelson and his younger half-sister, Norma, who has thrived as he has struggled. Norma is played by a striking, witty Rosa Evangelina Arredondo, dressed by costume designer Kara Harmon in impeccably chic outfits that distinguish her character from the other strivers we meet.

When Nelson complains to Norma that “Dad gave you the better venues,” her response is swift and telling: “You bankrupted yours, all on your own. With all your schemes and ideas … installing cafes, offering mani-pedis.” Where Norma has assimilated smoothly, in other words, Nelson’s efforts have carried the stink of desperation — of trying too hard.

Norma’s not the only one bothered by that smell, or by the carelessness and haplessness that have also seemed to characterize Nelson’s endeavors. The most interesting and fully realized characters in “Americans” are two other women: Nelson’s wife, Patti, born at Spanish Harlem and of Puerto Rican extraction, and their daughter and Nick’s older sister, Toni.

Patti, brought to robust and ultimately heartbreaking life in a standout turn by Luna Lauren Velez, hardly stands by her man the way that Linda Loman did; she spars with her husband as fiercely as she loves him. And without giving too much away, it can be said that in Mr. Leguizamo’s modern take on the toll of intertwined cultural and family tensions, even a loving couple’s bond can become vulnerable.

Rebecca Jimenez brings a lovely mix of warmth and wryness to Toni as the young woman tries to reason with both her father and her more fragile kid brother. The latter role, that of Nick, is played by Trey Santiago-Hudson, the director’s son, a lanky, likeable young actor whose easy emotional transparency proves vital both to the performance and the production. 

Notwithstanding these assets, “Americans” is hobbled by a script that approaches the very real challenges facing Latin Americans — a topic that feels even more raw and relevant than it did when the show had its premiere less than a year ago — in a manner that can seem contrived and simplistic.

You’ll nonetheless likely enjoy getting to spend some time with the Castros, and ultimately you’ll ache for them, because at a time when the concept of “other” is too often used to separate and dismiss, “The Other Americans,” for all its shortcomings, invites empathy and reflection.