Sarah Stiles and Mark Linn-Baker Photo by Carol Rosegg

As did Molière, Hatcher spoofs hypochondria, class consciousness, legal subterfuge, and greedy medical professionals. It's a simple story: Argan (Mark Linn-Baker) mistakenly fancies himself to be deathly ill. Toinette (Sarah Stiles), his maid, is skeptical, and rolls her eyes at frequent intervals as he complains of his many maladies. She also challenges him head-on at every turn in a confrontational manner that must have shocked 17th century audiences–servants just don't do that! Béline (Emily Swallow), Argan's new wife, attends to him solicitously and professes great sympathy; in fact, she's after his fortune and has teamed up with De Bonnoi (Manuel Felciano), her lawyer and main squeeze, to rob him of it.

Meanwhile, Angelique (Emilie Kouatchou), Argan's sweet daughter from his first marriage, has fallen in love with the equally sweet but quite stupid Cléante (John Yi). Bad timing, as Argan has just affianced her to Thomas (Russell Daniels), the brainless son of Dr. Diafoirus (Arnie Burton), one of his three doctors; the other two will also emerge, and all are played by Burton. So expect lots of quick changes from him, including, thanks to Tilly Grimes's clever costume design, a moment when he plays all three at once.

Arnie Burton and Russell Daniels Photo by Carol Rosegg

But it's not really about the repartee. Much of which is vulgar: enema jokes; quips about Argan's buttocks, which get therapeutically massaged a lot. No matter: Hatcher is reveling in the rhythms and punchlines of traditional sketch comedy, and he's not afraid to chase a laugh down a blind alley. Hence the many diversions from plot, including several giggle-inducing musical moments. Cléante, pretending for plot reasons not worth going into that he's Angelique's music teacher, improvises a concert, set to the likes of "La Vie en Rose" and "I Dreamed a Dream," consisting mostly of lyrics about sheep. The meta gets hauled out, too: "Monsieur Argan, could you meet me center stage?" And sight gags, involving toilet paper and Sun Ju Kim's hilarious wigs. And a madcap chase, another excuse for Burton to rapidly change costumes.

The material isn't all rich, but the playing of it is. Start with Linn-Baker, who both overplays and underplays, and is a seasoned practitioner of both. Stiles is a vigorous, sarcastic foil. Yi displays a comely form, an appealing smile, and a winning cluelessness. Swallow does haughty and calculating like no one's business. Kouatchou, mostly playing straight woman, can nail a punchline when she gets the chance. Daniels, a portly and goggle-eyed Thomas, is especially funny–James Coco with a lobotomy. Burton, we already know from The 39 Steps and The Mystery of Irma Vep, excels at multiple roles, and comes up with three distinct personalities for his trio of doctors: Paul Lynde-prissy for Diafoirus, Darth Vader-like for Fleurant, and unctuously Teutonic for Purgon, sort of Kenneth Mars in The Producers. One feels sorry for Felciano, who isn't onstage long enough to score as many points as his castmates, but he does get to model another hilarious wig. All the actors, and this is crucial, have crack timing; even lines that aren't that funny pay off.

Beowulf Boritt's functional set includes some attractive Renaissance filigrees, and Grimes's costumes boast some cheerful anachronisms–slacks for Toinette, a denim jacket for Cléante–that accentuate the ludicrousness. Nina Field and Greg Pliska's sound design, refreshingly, doesn't sound miked at all. Jesse Berger directs his actors to face front a lot, sometimes playing more to the audience than to each other. But that's what Burnett and Caesar and the rest often did, and it feels appropriate.

The press release for The Imaginary Invalid begins, "We thought you could use a good laugh these days," and, uh, yeah. Molière's satirical targets are well worn, and Hatcher, to my ear, is mainly colloquializing him, peppering the dialogue with "okay"s and "kind of"s, while tossing in some silliness of his own. Don't expect high comedy or pointed observations about health care. But you may have nearly as good a time as the folks onstage appear to be having, and that seems to be plenty.