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Early on in Christopher Hampton's The Philanthropist, a 197X comedy that spin's Moliere's The Misanthrope 180 degrees, Philip (Matthew Broderick), an affable and unflappable professor of philology at Oxford, admits that he generally can find some good in any book he reads and that generally he can like a play no matter how terrible it might be. Such equanimity might come in handy for New York theatergoers attending David Grindley's lackluster revival of this bittersweet comedy that opened last night at the Roundabout.

Hampton's play begins with a bang – quite literally – as a get-together that Philip and his best friend and fellow professor Don (imbued with a certain clear-sightedness and amiable appeal by Steven Weber) have with a high-strung aspiring playwright student (Tate Ellington) turns sour because the young man thinks that all of Philip's kind, but empty, compliments are backhanded barbs. Philip will continue to be misunderstood as "Philanthropist" – which like the student's play is something of a conversation piece – moves forward.

When his exuberant and slightly catty fiancé Celia (a muted Anna Madeley) and he host a small get-together for friends and Braham (brought to life in a gloriously over-the-top turn from Jonathan Cake), a famous novelist whom Celia met at another event, Philip manages to insult Braham by commenting on the way in which he appropriates phrases used by other people and Braham's frequent use of the word "actually." After the party has ended and Philip's refused to pick up on Celia's desire to spend the night, Philip gives in to sexual advances by Araminta (Jennifer Mudge) to avoid, as theatergoers later learn, hurting her feelings.

Hampton's play attempts to incorporate some of the topicality of Moliere's piece. There's talk about a blood-bath in the Houses of Parliament and of a student's destruction of his dormitory room after when he comes to believe that there's no real hope for the world. These events- incredibly sad and disturbing – are mere anecdotes for the characters, all of whom, on one level or another, are representative of the seven deadly sins, either individual ones or various combinations. (In case audiences fail to recognize this, anagrams – creating new words and phrases from scrambling letters is a favorite pastime of Philip's – of the various evils are projected across the top of Tim Shortall's handsome, but overly abstract, rendering of Philip's living room.)

"Philanthropist" is by no means a rollicking comedy, but in Grindley's laborious production, clever turns of phrase and cutting bon mots barely elicit wry smiles. The abstraction of the scenic design – which never grounds the action firmly – may have something to do with a distance that theatergoers feel from the action and its humor. Similarly, the bombast of liturgical music that punctuates scenes jars.

Equally troubling is Broderick's performance – which seems like an Anglicized version of likeable wimps he's previously played. It never sparks to life so that audiences can find simultaneous bemusement in the predicament that Philip's genuine decency and goodwill causes and empathy for the pain it ultimately induces.

The production does spring to life while Cake, wearing a gloriously showy purple striped leisure suit (just one of the terrific period ensembles from costume designer Tobin Ost) is center stage. The actor revels in Braham's obnoxious and egotistical rants against the French and his broad, and ludicrous, pronouncements about his writing. There's also a certain joy to be found the bitchy scene that Celia and Araminta share after Celia's learned of Philip's infidelity.

Celia attempts to use this fling to break-off the engagement (one that strikes both the characters' friends and audiences as a complete mismatch), but ultimately, she must tell him the truth about her own feelings about the relationship. It's harsh stuff that, theoretically, should induce winces. Similarly, Hampton's clever ending should flicker with a bit of comedic hope. Unfortunately, neither of this revival quite becomes so deeply felt or richly conceived as to engender such emotions. It's the sort of show that ultimately does not provoke ill-will, but one may find oneself having to bring a little charity to The Philanthropist.

----- Andy Propst

The Philanthropist plays at the American Airline theatre (227 West 42nd Street). Performances are Tuesday through Saturday at 8pm with Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday matinees at 2pm. Tickets are $66.50 - $111.50 and can be purchased by calling 212-719-1300 or online at www.RoundaboutTheatre.org.