It sucks to be Joseph (Santino Fontana). He’s the poster-child for misfortune. At age 29, he has lost both parents and bears the responsibility of caring for his elderly uncle and teenage brother. His father’s very recent, maybe accidental death was the result of a teenage prank gone wrong — now the suspect’s future is largely in Joseph’s hands. Joseph also deals with the bigotry that comes with being gay and Lebanese in a not so open-minded town in Pennsylvania. On top of that, he is searching for medical answers to a number of health problems likely indicating something quite serious. In Stephen Karam’s new play, Sons of the Prophet, Joseph and his hardships are center stage; through humor and love we see him face it all, despite most odds stacked against him.

Fontana is quickly becoming a Broadway golden boy after a handful of tremendous performances (Brighton Beach Memoirs ,The Importance of Being Earnest) and a collection of accolades. Though Sons of the Prophet is an ensemble show, it is very much Joseph’s story. Fontana is perfectly suited in this role, giving Joseph a charming resilience that makes it clear why everyone relies on him. He’s never whiny, but inescapably tragic. The rest of the cast is equally appropriate with wonderful, nuanced performances all around. Particularly engaging are Joanna Gleason as Joseph’s widowed boss Gloria, and Chris Perfetti as Joseph’s younger (and also gay…what are the odds?) brother Charles.

Joseph is not alone in his suffering. Many characters in Sons of the Prophet are dealing with their own grief. Like we’re slowly ripping off a Band-Aid, everyone’s collective wounds are exposed as the play goes on. But there is some consolation in this, knowing that everyone can take comfort in the solidarity of their pain, and triumph regardless. Through Karam’s very funny script, Joseph and those close to him grow stronger as they persevere. The thread of compassion, knowing that there’s always someone who hurts worse than you, looms through the play.

A well-crafted script and smooth direction by Peter DuBois make Sons of the Prophet easy to watch, however the subject matter can be uncomfortable to digest. Joseph’s story is really, really sad, and though he never wears his despair, you can’t help but sympathize with his plight. The story might be about overcoming adversity and finding compassion for others, but that doesn’t make it any less depressing. Though it’s certainly a comedic play, Joseph’s life doesn’t seem like a laughing matter (except at the sheer absurdity that so much suffering should befall one upstanding human being). Sons of the Prophet is a successful production in many ways, but be prepared to unleash much of your own empathy.

(Sons of the Prophet plays at the Laura Pels Theatre in the Harold and Miriam Steinberg Center for Theatre, 111 West 46th Street, through December 23, 2011. Performances are Tuesdays at 7:30PM; Wednesdays at 2PM and 7:30PM; Thursdays and Fridays at 7:30PM; Saturdays at 2PM and 7:30PM; and Sundays at 2PM. Tickets are $71-$81 and can be purchased at roundabouttheatre.org. If you are under 35, get cheaper tickets at hiptix.com. For more show information visit roundabouttheatre.org.)

Photo shows Santino Fontana and Joanna Gleason in SONS OF THE PROPHET. Photo by Joan Marcus.

No one isn’t a Hemingway fan — at the very least it’s hard to be critical of The Sun Also Rises unless we’re talking serious literary criticism (which we’re not, so back off English majors). Elevator Repair Service has found its “thing” in presenting classic literature on stage and theatricalizing the shit out of it in the process. They started a few years ago with The Sound and the Fury, then found stellar success with last year’s Gatz (an all day event that included a complete reading of The Great Gatsby), and they now tackle Hemingway required reading. The Select is an adapted version of The Sun Also Rises, and the production clocks in around 3 hours. While that’s still a commitment, it hardly feels like one. The Select is so much fun you wish the party would go all night.

For those of you who slept through high school English class: the 1926 novel takes place in Paris and chronicles American Jake Barnes (the adorable Mike Iveson) as he and his chums fight for the love of Lady Brett Ashley (the even more adorable Lucy Taylor). Between lots of drinking, lots of fraternizing, lots of flirting, a trip to Spain and a bull fight, Jake and Brett try to maybe make a relationship work despite the inevitability that it’s probably not going to happen. She’s got a thing for other guys, and well, seemingly all other guys have a thing for her.

All of this unfolds in The Select with the expected joie de vivre of 1920s Paris. And for the purposes of playmaking, that becomes a lesson in creativity. Tables and chairs transform into all sorts of objects as the actors play out visceral moments from representations. The action is slick throughout the play, seemingly choreographed to the nanosecond. With two dance numbers — which are really dance parties turned production numbers since they involve the entire cast — the energy soars and the actors are able to transmit a joy that’s completely contagious.

A large contributor to the show’s uncanny realism, given its otherwise symbolic approach, is in its sound design, created by Matt Tierney (the actor who plays Robert Cohn) and Ben Williams (the actor who plays Bill Gorton). The soundboard sits on stage (I think there are two boards, actually), and the cues are executed by various actors from the stage. This is never distracting, and it took me a long time to realize they were even there, though they are revealed toward the end of the evening (a deserving nod). The sound itself is visceral, full, and relevant – it accentuates the production perfectly.

However, John Collins’ direction is the most remarkable component of the collaboration. The attention to movement, reverence for the characters, and methodological approach to the narrative come together for a production that epitomizes inventive storytelling. As Founder and Artistic Director of ERS, it’s clear that Collins is driving the bus. His storytelling approach is unique and nuanced, yet it’s hard to imagine this show being executed any other way. And I don’t mean to discount the production’s group efforts — the talented and committed artists behind The Select are entirely in sync.

Not just for the literary-savvy, The Select is a celebration of storytelling. By merging the page with the stage, ERS presents an event that embraces Hemingway’s work in tandem with the creative world of theatre. This makes for a remarkably fun audience experience.

(The Select plays at New York Theatre Workshop, 79 East 4th Street, through October 23, 2011. Performances are Tuesdays at 7PM; Wednesdays at 12PM and 7PM; Thursdays through Saturdays at 7PM; and Sundays at 1PM and 7PM. Tickets are $70 and are available at ticketcentral.com. For more information visit elevator.org or nytw.org.)

If you’ve got a night and are into unconventional theatre, Hotel/Motel should be at the top of your to-do list. This self-described “intimate experience of epic proportion” is that and more. Presented by The Amoralists, Hotel/Motel contains two full-length plays: Pink Knees on Pale Skin by The Amoralists’s own Derek Ahonen, and Animals and Plants by cult favorite Adam Rapp. The stories are totally different, but both take place in a hotel (or, a motel) -– hence, why they’re presented together.

To make the experience even more engaging, Hotel/Motel is staged at The Gershwin Hotel. Although it doesn’t take place in an actual hotel room, the playing space is set to look like one, and it’s just slightly larger. Each performance offers about 20 seats around the perimeter of the room. So you are close to the action…really, really close to the action. Here’s the good thing: these are not self-aware plays. There’s never an intention to mess with audience members or teeter between fiction and reality, and the first play never even breaks the fourth wall. Even though you’re right there with the characters, there’s really no discomfort or self-consciousness.

Sarah Lemp counsels James Kautz in Derek Ahonen's PINK KNEES ON PALE SKIN.

The plays are similar in tone: both offer insight into troubled characters coming to terms with their bad behavior. Both are very funny, very quirky, and very disturbing. Both inject a sense of anticipation for trouble to come.

Pink Knees on Pale Skin tells the story of Dr. Sarah (Sarah Lemp), a sex therapist who counsels patients by planning orgies intended to save marriages and overcome sexual issues. This particular night has the Wyatt Family (James Kautz and Vanessa Vache) meeting with the Williams Family (Byron Anthony and Anna Stromberg) in a fancy hotel. Dr. Sarah and her assistant/husband Leroy (Jordan Tisdale) orchestrate a series of exercises to get to know the couples and help them work through their issues (infidelity and resentment for the Wyatts, and the inability to achieve female orgasm for the Williams’). Things go awry when Dr. Sarah becomes the most troubled one in the room –- she’s great at her job, but it can’t make up for her own inner issues.

Highly sexual, Pink Knees offers a voyeuristic glimpse into these characters lives at what’s likely to be one of their most awkward experiences. Their unease and Sarah’s manipulation of their emotions make for great comedic moments. The cast embraces every opportunity to give the audience a laugh and let the humor seep through the story. The ending changes vibe, however, as the focus shifts from the patients to the doctor. A surprise visit sheds light on Sarah’s issues, but the reasons for her subsequent (and past) behavior is never really explained. I would have enjoyed some motivational clarification, especially since the play becomes nearly somber at this point.

Animals and Plants shows two drug traffickers in a motel room in the mountains in North Carolina, waiting for their supply to arrive to they can head home to New York. Dantly (William Apps) and Burris (Matthew Pilieci) have been friends and partners for a decade, and their relationship is endearing. But Dantly has been experiencing some changes recently; it appears he’s losing his grip on reality (storing inanimate objects down his pants is just the tip of the iceburg). Burris encourages Cassandra (Katie Broad) –- a head shop employee the pair met earlier -– to visit Dantly, which she does. But the small town has its own secrets, and Cassandra’s homicidal ex-husband takes residence in that very motel. Dantly probably doesn’t have long to live. And he probably can’t trust anyone either.

To enjoy Adam Rapp’s work is to indulge in the fantastical world he’s created -– a world that might not always make sense. True to his style, Animals and Plants is weird and sometimes undefined. Although this play was written years ago, Rapp was excited about The Amoralists’s interest in a re-staging, and he directed this production. The world that is created is highly theatrical (falling snow, taxidermy, gore and blood) – although this would be thrilling in any theatre, it’s remarkably well executed in such a tiny space. If you can look past the thick metaphorical weirdness that permeates Animals and Plants and just appreciate Rapp’s imagination and storytelling aptitude, it’s a thrilling ride. And the performances are spot-on.

Hotel/Motel, at 3 hours and 45 minutes, is a theatrical commitment. But it delivers entertainment through selfless plays that really feel they’re for the audience’s sake, rather than site-specific vanity projects (as conceptual productions can sometimes be). These plays could easily be presented individually, but there’s something pleasantly intimate about this double bill. And high production values contribute to The Amoralists’s professional moxie.

(Hotel/Motel plays at The Gershwin Hotel, 7 East 27th Street, through August 29, 2011. Performances are Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays at 7PM; Saturdays at 2PM and 7PM, and Sundays at 2PM. Tickets are $60 and are available at smarttix.com.  For more show info visit theamoralists.com.)

Pardon the vagueness, it’s just really difficult to explain this show.  Even after experiencing it I’m not sure I’ve digested it entirely.  Suffice to say, it is hands on, fully sensory, and completely active. The McKittrick Hotel on 27th Street, between 10th and 11 Avenues, has been transformed into a creepy playground, the set for which Sleep No More attempts to tell a fragmented version of Macbeth. As an audience member, you don a mask that renders you anonymous, you separate from your party, and you explore the hotel. You are encouraged to touch things, follow the actors who run through the halls and perform intermittent word-less, dance-heavy scenes, and piece together the clues gathered from your journey. It’s grand, it’s lavish, it’s dark, and it’s full of intrigue.

I fully encourage intrepid patrons of the arts to check it out (at an admittedly steep $70 per ticket it’s actually worth the price), but I do so with a few words of advice.

1. Wear comfortable shoes and clothing. This experience requires much movement from the audience and you don’t want to be held back by a pair of too-tight heels.

2. Contacts are better than glasses. With a mask smushing your face for the duration of the performance, glasses just get in the way and actually challenge your vision.

3. It’s hopefully handicap accessible, but you lose much of the experience if you’re not able to run up and down flights of stairs and turn on a dime. The more mobile you are, the better your experience will likely be.

4. Not for the claustrophobic. Or for those afraid of the dark.

5. When you enter the hotel, you get a playing card; if yours is on the lower end of the deck (Aces are low) don’t get a drink when you first get to the bar. There isn’t enough time to drink it.

6. There is an end to the show, so don’t duck out early. You’ll know when it’s the end…just follow the action.

7. Don’t be afraid to really explore and don’t worry about sticking with a group. An individual experience will probably be more meaningful.

8. After the show ends, you wind up back at the bar. Plan to stick around and have a drink – the entertainment is wonderful!

Want more New York theatre reviews, including one for Sleep No More?  Visit Theatre Is Easy at theasy.com.

From the minute the lights go down and the school bell rings, Nilaja Sun enthralls her audience. Sun’s flexible face, specificity of voices, and detailed characterizations motor through the quick 60+ minutes that make up No Child. This award-winning solo show is back in New York after a successful 2006 run and a subsequent (inter)national tour. And it’s no wonder the show has been so highly acclaimed: Sun is freaking brilliant.

No Child looks at a rough high school in the Bronx, and the students and faculty who comprise the community. Sun plays nearly a dozen of these characters, including herself; she is at the school as a teaching artist under a grant to facilitate the production of a play with a particularly challenging sophomore class. With all hope and good faith, Sun optimistically embarks on the task, only to learn it won’t be nearly as easy to engage her students as she previously thought.

From the class’s timid first-time teacher, to the students themselves, to the assertive principal, to the elderly janitor who serves as the story’s narrator, Sun assumes a wide smattering of personalities, and transitions between them instantaneously. The ease with which she embodies the characters and lets the story unfold is remarkable. And her energy never waivers. In reality, Sun is an adult African American woman, but in No Child she puts on these other individuals with such truthfulness that her own characteristics become invisible. And these transformations occur from physicality and voice alone as there are no costume changes or props to speak of.

Aside from a wonderful performance worth the price of admission alone, No Child also offers a meaningful story that sheds light on America’s education system and its many, many issues, especially present in a low-income community. In a particularly funny and poignant moment, Sun -– as herself -– admits that as a teaching artist there’s some advantage to a placement in a rich community where the only problems she’d face would be soccer moms, bulimia, and questions about how she washes her hair. No Child’s narrative isn’t entirely unique or surprising -– in stories like this, the overwhelmed yet inspirational educator always triumphs and inevitably young lives are changed. But No Child’s harsh inspection of the nation’s academic pitfalls is certainly something worth exploration and exposure. Sun hits hard at the heart of the issue and champions for both arts education and the need for more educational attention in our poorest communities.

Director Hal Brooks gives Sun room to glide from one persona to the next, while clearly distinguishing the individuals. It is to his credit that the plot is consistently clear and the story constantly engaging. Moving, funny and wholly entertaining, No Child is a show worth catching on this return engagement, particularly if you haven’t seen it previously.

(No Child plays through July 31, 2011 at the Barrow Street Theatre, 27 Barrow Street at 7th Avenue South. Performances from June 28th through the end of the run are Tuesdays through Saturdays at 7:30PM and Sundays at 2:30PM. Tickets are $40 and are available at smarttix.com or by calling 212.868.4444. Student tickets are $15 and are available at the box office the day of the performance. For more show info visit barrowstreettheatre.com.)

Babies: they’re little, they’re cute, and they compromise otherwise healthy adult relationships. They also can define a family. In Daniel Goldfarb’s polished dramedy, Cradle and All, one little screaming bundle represents the conflict at hand for two Brooklyn couples.

Claire and Luke seemingly have it all in their schmancy Brooklyn Heights digs. They are good looking, well dressed, and professionally successful (more or less). In their mid to late 30s and together five years, they are unmarried and don’t appear to have plans of settling down into a traditional domestic situation. This would be fine, except that Claire desperately wants a baby. Across the hall, Annie and Nate negotiate parenthood, as the proud and burned out parents of an 11-month old. Their life has taken a drastic turn to poopy diapers and plastic teething toys, although music posters on the walls echo of their past, hipper life. Annie and Nate’s disheveled existence is the antithesis to Claire and Luke. The couples are well acquainted with each other, and throughout Cradle and All, grass-is-always-greener references are made to a very different lifestyle.

Although Cradle and All incorporates four characters, it only uses two actors — Maria Dizzia and Greg Keller — who each play two roles. Act I reveals an awkward evening between Claire and Luke in their apartment, and Act II takes place across the hall with Annie and Nate as they struggle to sleep train their screaming baby. This narrative device works exceptionally well because even though the couples seem to live opposite lives, the tensions can, in fact, be very similar. Each decision — to marry and have kids, or to focus on your career and independence — comes with its own relevant issues.

Dizzia and Keller are tremendous in their roles, which adds to the delight of double casting. During intermission, as the set morphs into the neighbors’ apartment, Dizzia and Keller undergo their own transformation, emerging stripped of Claire and Luke’s fashionable, groomed, power-demeanor. In Act II, their sweatpants and messy hair project utter exhaustion. The difference is so drastic (visually as well as within the actors’ character work) that during the curtain call, I fully expected Claire and Luke to come out and bow.

Goldfarb’s sincere script and Sam Buntrock’s playful direction allude to the comfort that gets built within long-term relationships; when awkward conversations occur and partners don’t see eye to eye, this comfort can be deeply shaken. This is what occurs between both couples in Cradle and All. When a resolution seems questionable, the result is heartbreaking. Dizzia and Keller are perfectly cast as conflicted better halves; they communicate a vulnerability that seems all too relatable.

MTC’s production values shine through this production, with a gorgeous set by Neil Patel that transforms into two contemporary apartments with very different inhabitants (and also allows for cookies to be baked from scratch). Mattie Ullrich’s costumes are wholly appropriate, with Claire and Luke looking stunning and Annie and Nate looking, well, like the parents of an 11-month old. Light and sound design, by Ken Billington and Jill BC DuBoff respectively, further unify the professional production.

Cradle and All might give equal stage time to two different lifestyles, but it makes some unconscious statements about which is preferred. One act ends optimistically, the other not so much. Although these characters encounter turbulant times, the importance of family rings true. The Act II team presumably wins the happiness game, at least for now.

(Cradle and All plays at Manhattan Theatre Club’s NY City Center Stage, 151 West 55th Street, through June 19, 2011.  Performances are Tuesdays at 7PM, Wednesdays at 2PM and 8PM, Thursdays and Fridays at 8PM, Saturdays at 2PM and 8PM, and Sundays at 2PM. Tickets are $80. Student tickets are available for $25 at the box office beginning at noon, day of performance.  For tickets and more information, visit manhattantheatreclub.com.)

For more NY theatre reviews and info, visit Theatre Is Easy at theasy.com.

A partial list of nominees is below, along with my pics for the winners (you know, for those office Tony pools). You can watch the show live on Sunday, June 12th beginning at 6PM. Click on the links to read full reviews written by myself and my colleagues at Theasy.com.

BEST PLAY
Good People
Jerusalem
The Motherf**ker With the Hat
War Horse

I’m banking on Good People. David Lindsay-Abaire’s script is so poignant and so socially relevant, while at the same time genuinely funny and entertaining. Intellectual engagement and humor rarely go together this well.

BEST MUSICAL
The Book of Mormon
Catch Me if You Can
The Scottsboro Boys
Sister Act

The Book of Mormon will likely win this, because not only has it been critically lauded by nearly every voice in arts journalism, but it announced a national tour, which means producers have decided that it is commercially viable outside of New York City. Financial success doesn’t always indicate Tony gold, but with a title like “Best Musical,” you’re going to want the show to run for a long, long time. And, you know, Tony voters are comprised of producers. That said, The Book of Mormon is fabulous and completely deserving of the highest Tony prize…although there will always be a soft spot in my heart for The Scottsboro Boys.

BEST REVIVAL OF A PLAY
Arcadia
The Importance of Being Earnest
The Merchant of Venice
The Normal Heart

I’m going with The Normal Heart, although The Merchant of Venice could grab this one. I admittedly haven’t seen either (the former just opened and I haven’t had a chance to see it, and the latter was consistently sold our during its limited engagement last fall). But the response has been very positive for Larry Kramer’s The Normal Heart, one of the first plays that tackled AIDS.

BEST REVIVAL OF A MUSICAL
Anything Goes
How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying

The Tony could go to either one of these shows, both of which have been well-received since opening in early 2011. If I had to pick, I’d go with How to Succeed, but just because it’s a little flashier and maybe more fun. But both will likely have long Broadway lives. The best part of this category is that there are only two contenders. A season with more original musicals than revivals?! That’s something to celebrate.

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE IN A PLAY
Brian Bedford (The Importance of Being Earnest)
Bobby Cannavale (The Motherf**ker with the Hat)
Joe Mantello (The Normal Heart)
Al Pacino (The Merchant of Venice)
Mark Rylance (Jerusalem)

Rylance will take this one, though in a different year it could be any of them. This is stiff competition.

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE IN A PLAY
Nina Arianda (Born Yesterday)
Frances McDormand (Good People)
Lily Rabe (The Merchant of Venice)
Vanessa Redgrave (Driving Miss Daisy)
Hannah Yelland (Brief Encounter)

My vote goes to Lily Rabe, but Frances McDormand could also win. According to Born Yesterday’s reviews Nina Arianda should win, but she’s relatively new to the Broadway world and will likely have plenty of other opportunities for statue-owning down the road.

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE IN A MUSICAL
Norbert Leo Butz (Catch Me If You Can)
Josh Gad (The Book of Mormon)
Joshua Henry (The Scottsboro Boys)
Andrew Rannells (The Book of Mormon)
Tony Sheldon (Priscilla Queen of the Desert)

Josh Gad will likely take this one, because he’s largely responsible for what make The Book of Mormon work on stage. His comic chops bring the show to life, and although his counterpart Andrew Rannells is also crazy talented, he’s often the straight man to Gad’s unpredictable Elder Cunningham.

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE IN A MUSICAL
Sutton Foster (Anything Goes)
Beth Leavel (Baby It’s You!)
Patina Miller (Sister Act)
Donna Murphy (The People in the Picture)

Yeahhhhh, I got nothing on this category. Sorry, you’re on your own.

“The Motherf**ker With the Hat” is a ballsy title for a ballsy play (at least of the commercial Broadway variety). Written by Stephen Adly Guirgis (Jesus Hopped the A Train, Our Lady of 121st Street), this witty and twisted domestic drama of sorts offers big laughs while chronicling the lives of some substance abusing New Yorkers. The script is finely executed, balancing bawdy language, one-liners and snarky humor with a certain sweetness surrounding leading man Jackie (Bobby Cannavale), an ex-con with a heart who really wants to do right. Cannavale’s portrayal of this well-intentioned recovering alcoholic conveys sympathy, despite some poor life choices. And this makes for genuinely entertaining storytelling.

Jackie is trying to clean up his life. He gets a job, takes his 12-step program seriously, and dreams of settling down with his girlfriend Veronica (Elizabeth Rodriguez). That is, until he discovers an anonymous hat on her table and vengeful fantasies begin to take over his otherwise noble ambitions. As Jackie attempts to “be nice,” a motto promoted by his new employer, he finds out that its sentiment is subjective. Seeking the help of his sponsor Ralph (Chris Rock), Ralph’s girlfriend Victoria (Annabella Sciorra) and his cousin Julio (Yul Vásquez), Jackie tries to grapple with his disintegrating relationship and his future, while maybe staying sober along the way.

Bobby Cannavale, Yul Vasquez and Chris Rock in The Motherf**ker With the Hat. Photo by Joan Marcus

Guirgis’s script is brilliantly constructed, with irreverent humor (“Leave the gun, take the empanadas”) and incongruity (Ralph is a nutritional beverage salesman). Although it’s heavy on expletives and talks of violence, it’s also rather silly and strangely understandable. Through screaming, fist-fights and threats, a sentimentality arises; Guirgis’s use of humor encourages a mighty engaging unfolding of this otherwise dire plot.

The production itself serves as a successful vehicle for the story, although it never let me fully escape into its world and this detracted from my overall experience; I was consistently aware I was watching a play. I would love to see The Motherf**ker with the Hat in a smaller, more intimate space, without the unavoidable Broadway gloss a gilded theatre mists over its stage.

The performances are all adequate as well, with the five person cast working their collective butts off to keep the energy consistently heightened. Cannavale is the consummate Jackie: sincere and well-intentioned, yet unavoidably ill-fated. Everyone else commits fully, conveying hypocritical humor and receiving lots of well-earned laughs, but they feel a little like caricatures, as opposed to Jackie’s fully fleshed-out, tortured soul. To be fair, I could have seen an off night – a technical error stopped the show, and the cast seemed to be grappling with laryngitis. However, as much as I could indulge in the words themselves, I never lost myself in the action happening on stage.

The Motherf**ker With the Hat is a highly comedic frolic into the dysfunctional reality of some potentially well-meaning though largely self-destructive individuals. Guirgis’s writing and Cannavale’s performance are worth the price of admission alone, and the rest of the cast each shine in pitch-perfect moments. But sit close, if you can, because the spectacle is in the story, not the production.

(The Motherf**ker With the Hat plays at the Schoenfeld Theatre, 236 West 45th Street, in a limited engagement through June 26, 2011. Performances are Tuesdays at 7PM, Wednesdays at 2PM and 7PM, Thursdays and Fridays at 8PM, Saturdays at 2PM and 8PM and Sundays at 3PM. Tickets are $66.50-$131.50 and are available at telecharge.com. For more show info visit themfwiththehat.com.)

Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo is an engrossing new play by prolific young playwright Rajiv Joseph (in his Broadway debut). Although the production has just opened in New York, it comes to the East coast highly regarded after two successful runs in Los Angeles in 2009-2010 and a Pulitzer Prize nomination. Right away you expect some serious substance, and Bengal Tiger eagerly delivers.

Quirky and playful yet wholly mournful and philosophical, Bengal Tiger offers its audience a spectrum of emotion. Set in Baghdad in 2003, it follows the journey (read: demise) of Kev (Brad Fleischer) and Tom (Glenn Davis), two American soldiers serving in the war. As the play begins, they are stationed at the zoo, but after a hungry tiger has his way with Tom’s hand, Kev is given new duties as Tom is sent home to recover. The trauma of this incident sets of a chain of events that shake Kev and Tom to the core, as if war itself wasn’t disturbing enough. As they try to reclaim their senses of self, images of the past haunt their grasp of reality.

Robin Williams and Glenn Davis in Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo. Photo by Richard Perry for the New York Times.

At the same time, two Iraqis posit their own fates: army translator Musa (Arian Moayed) searches for new purpose in his war-torn country, while the Tiger (Robin Williams) desperately seeks the meaning of life from a God who has given him little to work with. Lamenting his violent urges, he says “What could I do? I’m a tiger.” It’s hard to fault him for his jungle cat nature. In a sense, both of these Iraqis (well, the Tiger being a recent transplant) are captive in their own helplessness. But the same can be said for the American soldiers, who can’t escape their violent experiences either.

Bengal Tiger is a theoretical study of purpose, and employs a pseudo-reality, a sort of dream world, to engage its characters with their inner battles. Guilt and a sense of desolation consume each of these four creatures in some way, and the ghosts of their pasts appear often to show that they can’t truly escape their consciences. At the same time though, can one be truly responsible for an action that was unavoidable, or at least unprompted? Kev, Tom and Musa bemoan their situations through their actions; the Tiger does so in direct address to the audience. And this is one angsty Tiger searching for atonement.

The sentimentality with which this story unfolds provides a sympathetic understanding of the plights on stage. It sucks to be everyone. Can you be inherently bad, even though you want so desperately to be good? At what point do you stop fighting the unavoidable? Joseph’s play is layered with philosophical quandaries and metaphorical suggestions. It is not a passive experience, but rather provides some consequential questions to consider long after leaving the theatre. He is quite successful in this endeavor, particularly through the use of humor. This play is a drama to be sure, but it’s also highly entertaining.

Bengal Tiger is also incredibly successful because its cast is so astute in its portrayal of these individuals. Williams is expectedly outstanding, embracing all comic moments in his existential crisis. Fleischer and Davis are compelling as troubled soldiers torn between a jumbled sense of right and wrong (their performances evoke memories of the movie Hurt Locker). Moayed is self-assured and strong-willed, regardless of his circumstances, which seem tragically predictable. Hrach Titizian plays the ghost of Uday Hussain, Saddam’s son, as an ideal villain. And Necar Zadegan and Sheila Vand, as the female characters, provide an important wholeness to the scope of those affected by a collapsing nation.

Director Moisés Kaufman maintains a tense and uneasy tone throughout the play. There is often a gun on stage, and the volatile nature of 2003 Iraq is clearly communicated to an audience on the edge of their seats. Kaufmann also astutely balances the humor with the weight of the struggle. Visually, Bengal Tiger is stunning. The lights, by David Lander, are nearly their own character, guiding the audience’s perception of reality. This kind-of-real, kind-of-surreal world is effectively projected by the entire design team.

For a Broadway experience that leaves you with something to think about long after the curtain falls, Bengal Tiger is a wonderful choice. It’s totally engaging, deep and ultimately satisfying. It also offers a captivating look at faith without honing in on specific religious ideals – everyone in this play is different, yet very, very similar. Bengal Tiger is moving theatre, if you’re open to it.

(Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo plays at the Richard Rodgers Theatre, 226 West 46^th Street through July 3, 2011. Performances are Tuesdays at 7PM, Wednesdays at 2PM and 8PM, Thursdays and Fridays at 8PM, Saturdays at 2PM and 8PM, and Sundays at 3PM. Tickets are $75-$135 and are available at ticketmaster.com. Use discount code 2BENBOX for 30% off tickets through April 10^th only. For more show info visit bengaltigeronbroadway.com.)

For more New York theatre reviews and info, visit theasy.com.

I am a sucker for musical theatre and all the joyously cheesy emotions it can generate.  I am a bigger sucker for musical comedy that can elicit sincere sentimentality while making me giggle.  Now, when a funny and endearing musical comedy’s foundation is actually a sophisticated underbelly that propels an intellectual agenda capable of enlightening its audience without pandering…well, I am simply smitten.  And this is how I feel about The Book of Mormon.

I want to hug Trey Parker, Matt Stone and Robert Lopez, and director Casey Nicholaw, for breathing much-needed life into Broadway, which has been consistently humdrum as of late. Jaded theatergoers will feel invigorated at this lively, original musical with loads of heart.  Anyone with an affinity for the type of humor utilized on South Park will delight in this inappropriate language and the totally incongruous spectacle that surrounds it. I hesitate to oversell, but I think I’m too late.

Photo by Sara Krulwich / NY Times

The reason The Book of Mormon succeeds is because of its duality: it’s crass, it’s bawdy, it’s politically incorrect in the most outlandish of ways, it’s polarizing – and yet its message is so universally sincere and important that it almost feels like it could come from the Dalai Lama himself…probably phrased differently.

The Book of Mormon isn’t really a forum to degrade Mormonism, although it does mock the hell out this new-ish “American” religion. Rather, it uses Mormonism as the lens through which we can look at all religion, and the widespread ridiculousness that comes with whatever you happen to believe in. But it’s not an Atheists-only event, because the takeaway isn’t anti-religion at all.  After all, religion can have positive effects on those who need moral guidance. Take, for example, the poverty-stricken Ugandans who are the subjects of Mormon intervention in this show.

Elder Price (Josh Gad) and Elder Cunningham (Andrew Rannells), two eager teenagers embarking on their first mission, are placed in a God-less, savage Ugandan village where genital mutilation, AIDS, and general fear of warlord violence permeate an average day. Totally out of their element, the pious twosome discovers that they can effect positive change, even if it’s through unorthodox methods.

A totally conventional musical, The Book of Mormon offers stage magic, cheesy songs and production numbers, evoking the spirit of the mid-20^th century American musical, as opposed to the contemporary, rock-influenced presentations that have been big in the past 15 years.  And this indulgent spectacle is the perfect forum for the story, which, true to its creators’ aesthetic, is chock full of dirty words and references. I doubt these expletives are often strung together in locker rooms, let alone on Broadway stages. And they’ve certainly never been more amusing. The innocence of the main characters in contrast with the script itself offers a glorious dichotomy. It’s very adult humor that made me feel as if I was a fifth-grader again. To find that unabashed innocence in one’s self is pretty cool too.

I realize I’m gushing, and that’s probably not fair because I’m sure The Book of Mormon is not without its theatrical faults. However, the message and the delivery automatically take precedence. The delightfully energetic cast is pitch-perfect in their sincerity, and the songs themselves are totally catchy. The book is incredibly well-crafted: every scene and every song propel the plot and nothing is superfluous. Parker, Stone and Lopez display an obvious competency. They’re not just messing around here.

I suppose The Book of Mormon is not for those who are easily offended, or those who are devoutly religious and refuse to question their belief system. But everyone else should quickly see the brilliance in this subversive, self-aggrandizing, completely sincere spectacle. Parker, Stone and Lopez have an agenda, and it’s welcomed at the O’Neill Theatre.

The Book of Mormon plays at the O’Neill Theatre, 230 West 49th Street. As of March 28th, performances will be Tuesdays through Thursdays at 7PM, Fridays at 8PM, Saturdays at 2PM and 8PM, and Sundays at 2PM and 7PM.  For the full schedule visit bookofmormonbroadway.com. Tickets are $59-$137 and can be purchased at the show’s website. Show time is 2 hours 30 minutes with one intermission.