NEW YORK

'You all know the Bible is made of testaments old and new," sings Andrew Rannells as Elder Price in "The Book of Mormon." "You've been told it's just those two parts, or only one if you're a Jew. But what if I were to tell you there's a fresh third part out there which was found by a hip new prophet who had a little ... Donny Osmond flair?"

Sure enough, Joseph Smith, founder of Mormonism, appears in a beatific, Osmond-esque light. The song, "All American Prophet," provides one of many humorous moments in the musical comedy that is the toast of Broadway.

For sheer electricity, few things beat the experience of seeing a hot show like "Book," which in June won nine Tonys, including best musical. Created by "South Park" provocateurs Matt Stone and Trey Parker with Robert Lopez of "Avenue Q" fame, the smart, profane and acerbically funny musical has been drawing droves of high-wattage stage and screen stars to the Eugene O'Neill Theater.

At the Friday evening performance I attended, two-time Tony-winner Bernadette Peters laughed heartily at the show's blistering irreverence, her flame-colored curls bouncing on her shoulder. And Sean Penn, the social activist and two-time Academy Award winner, smiled often in his seat immediately in front of me. ("It's one of the best things I've seen in a long time," he said at intermission, a notable endorsement since Penn publicly upbraided Stone and Parker a few years ago for saying that it's OK not to vote.)

The "Book" creative team has delivered a comedy that is simultaneously thrilling and problematic. The musical tells of a group of white American Mormons who go to Uganda to convert Africans. The missionaries are met by smiling natives, nearly all of whom, we are told, have AIDS and some of whom believe that having sex with infants will help cure their illness.

Still, it's easy to see why the show has taken off with critics and ticket buyers. "Book" has a captivating cast, led by Rannells, Josh Gad as Elder Cunningham and Nikki James, who won a Tony for her portrayal of village innocent Nabulungi. They imbue their characters with reverence and wit in a show that is flawlessly executed.

Staged by Parker and Casey Nicholaw, "Book" is a tour-de-force musical whose double-entendres make it incredibly sexy ("Baptize Me" is a song about sex as much as it is about a religious rite).

Much of the pre-opening chatter surrounding "Book" was about whether it would draw picketers, as "The Scottsboro Boys" did in fall 2010. In early February, the New York Post ran a story under the headline "Expect calls to ban 'Book.'" No protests have materialized; "Book" continues to have fun with the religion's tenets. The song "I Believe," (performed on the Tonys telecast) is probably the show's best-known number: "I believe that in 1978 God changed his mind about black people. ... I am a Mormon, and a Mormon just believes."

Lost in all of the hubbub and expected controversy is the production's stereotypical portrayal of Africans. It's done with an end-of-show take-back, no doubt, but for two hours before that, it reinforces archetypes of barbarous simpletons. And the argument that the show is an equal-opportunity offender is specious because everyone does not have access to the same levels of power. That said, I found myself both offended and entertained by "Book."

From sarcastic to sweet

The same Tony voters who gave the best musical prize to the in-your-face "Book" awarded best play to "War Horse," a sweet, earnest and sentimental drama. The play, a transfer from England, won Tonys in all five categories in which it was nominated, including for co-directors Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris.

Adapted by Nick Stafford from Michael Morpurgo's 1982 young-adult book and soon to be a Steven Spielberg film -- his version comes out in late December -- the World War I-set human and puppet drama is about a young man's search for his Joey, a horse sold into the cavalry. The play stars Twin Cities-bred Seth Numrich, who gives a sensitive, nuanced performance even if his character, Albert, is not terribly interesting.

The human characters in "War Horse" play a secondary role to -- and are not nearly as interesting as -- the huge puppet horses, created by the Handspring Puppet Company that regularly plays at Walker Art Center. One scene bears this out, when Joey gets caught in barbed-wire in a no-man's land. The shooting and killing stop for a while and the humans become humane again.

Star puppet horse Joey, like a rival horse in the drama, is manipulated by a trio of humans moving as one. They imbue the puppets with such sensitive life and emotion, you can't help but root for their survival, even as humans die onstage in explosions and by gunshot.

A "War Horse" tour has been announced, including stops at the Orpheum in Minneapolis. That proscenium arch venue might not be a natural match for the show, which takes place in the Vivian Beaumont on a Guthrie Theater-style thrust stage with a turntable. Still, it will be interesting to see how the creative team adapts the puppets and the show for the road.

This "Horse" has a tender-hearted kick.