Though it was written in 1664, Tartuffe's message is eternal: Every age must separate religious hypocrisy from true piety, real virtue from pretense, sincerity from posturing. Satire helps point the way. Now playing at the Pearl Theater, Tartuffe is a hilarious send-up of faux leaders and those who blindly worship them. It should be required viewing for every member of Congress.
Moliere made a career out of poking fun at Parisian society, from sycophantic courtiers to the ruthless bourgeoisie. But he's at his best skewering the "pious" Tartuffe (Bradford Cover) and Orgon, his wealthy, blockheaded patron (TJ Edwards). Orgon is desperate for affirmation; Tartuffe, who poses as a spiritual vagabond, bewitches the older man. Suddenly, Orgon is doting on the former beggar, who is happy to stuff himself at Orgon's expense. Finding sin where none exists,Tartuffe is a religious bigot who masquerade as a defender of family values. In reality, he craves money and power. And, like all hypocrites, he secretly lusts after vice.
Though Tartuffe's oily wiles are obvious to Orgon's wife (Rachel Botchan), daughter (Carrie McCrossen) and son (Sean McNall), he turns a deaf ear. He's so smitten by Tartuffe, he offers his daughter's hand, though she is engaged to another. Despite the eloquence and urbanity of his brother-in-law (Dominic Cuskern), Orgon won't alter her fate.
What's a desperate family to do? Go devious - and they do, with delicious results. The Pearl, a jewel box of a theater in the East Village, has masterfully restaged this French farce, thanks to winning sets and costumes and a crackerjack ensemble, including a spot-on Botchan and Cuskern. Edwards' Orgon is believable, while Cover's Tartuffe is broad enough to underscore the crudity of ersatz saints. Tartuffe is a period piece apposite in every era.
Similarly, Hair is an important snapshot of 1967-68, an anthem of social revolution. When the original show was staged, it stunned Broadway audiences. Billed as an "American tribal love-rock musical," Hair, now playing at the Hirschfeld Theater, was a revelation. The country was mired in Vietnam; and sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll was a youthful battle cry. Now, mired in another unpopular war, but sobered by the AIDS epidemic, Hair speaks anew of hope and possibility, however messy and angst-ridden, amid political turmoil.
Hair, at heart, is a theatrical happening. (While the musical is prescient about the environment, it's blind to feminism.) The plot line is thin and the second act, too long. Shaving 15 minutes would tighten the story considerably. Still, the music is fantastic, especially classics like "Aquarius" and "Good Morning Starshine." So is the fevered optimism of the cast, headed by Berger (Will Swenson), Sheila (Caissie Levy) and Claude (Gavin Creel), who long for change. They are collectively and individually terrific.
The trio exemplifies the passion, anger, uncertainly and fragility of youth, and Hair celebrates their quest for freedom and understanding. Even their kookier friends, the spacey, pregnant Jeanie (Kacie Sheik) and winsome Woof (Bryce Ryness) hit the right note. Megan Lawrence as Claude's exasperated mother, and Andrew Kober, as both Claude's stern father and the free-thinking "Margaret Mead," are fun to watch.
This high-voltage revival is entertaining, a chance to return, even briefly, to the dawning of the "Age of Aquarius."