Last weekend I saw two plays that explore religious and philosophical themes against a backdrop of war. The first is a new American play now on Broadway (through July 3), Rajiv Joseph's Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo. It was a Pulitzer Prize finalist this year (although, strangely, not a Tony nominee for Best Play), and the Broadway production has generated some buzz around its star, Robin Williams. He plays the tiger (no kidding). Bengal Tiger is set in Iraq in 2003, but its take on the war is not political. The war is a source of interior and exterior conflict, a disruption of the normal order of things, for everyone from the tiger -- transplanted from his natural habitat, and now under bombardment in the zoo and guarded by two U.S. marines -- to the American soldiers to the Iraqis themselves. The play is violent and suspenseful, but also comical and at times philosophical. It is haunted by ghosts, who increase in number as the plot moves forward, and who find themselves in a kind of purgatorial state, where their knowledge of the world and their own actions increases and leaves them with uncomfortable questions about God and morality. Even the tiger finds himself wondering whether God is punishing him for past cruelties -- for his very tiger-ness. Having passed into some sort of afterlife, he is forced to consider the possibility that "Heaven" and "Hell" are not, as he (and, he says, all tigers) presumed, "just metaphorical constructs that represent hungry and not hungry." If there's an afterlife, does that mean there must be a God? But if there's a God -- where is He?

Williams's performance is disciplined and serious -- his comic timing and energy are perfect for the role, but he never undermines the play with ad-libbing or steals the spotlight from his less famous fellow actors. It's an ensemble work with a number of terrific performances. The play itself is more ambitious than great, and it runs a little long. But it is thought-provoking, and it will stay with you. One particularly memorable (and difficult to watch) scene follows a dimwitted and traumatized marine on a night raid into the home of an Iraqi couple. The homeowners are frantic and angry, the soldier is frightened and twitchy, and the translator regrets playing any part in this confusion. That scene -- well written, and with strong direction from Moises Kaufman -- plunges the audience into the disorienting moral chaos of war, and the philosophizing that follows is built on that foundation. Anyone who buys a ticket just to see Robin Williams is getting much more than they bargained for.

The second play I saw last weekend was Freud's Last Session by Mark St. Germain, which is playing Off-Broadway (and has been extended a few times already). It imagines a meeting between Sigmund Freud and C. S. Lewis that may or may not have occurred in 1939, on the eve of Britain's entrance into World War II. Freud, having fled Austria, is settled uncomfortably in London -- and dying, painfully, of oral cancer. Lewis is a young Oxford professor who visits at Freud's request, and the two discuss Lewis's attitude toward religion. Freud is curious to know how someone of Lewis's evident intelligence can be foolish enough to believe in God (and a Christian God at that). And so the two men spar about morality, theodicy, providence. It's really more of a dramatic lecture than a play, but the writing is skilled enough to hold the audience's attention -- and air-raid sirens outside the office where the two men meet serve to rachet up the tension whenever it begins to flag. What makes Freud's Last Session successful is its evenhandedness. Neither man is set up to embarrass the other. Fans of either will be pleased by their champion's performance -- Lewis devotees will recognize a number of arguments from works like Mere Christianity. But they will be challenged, as well, by the opposing view. It's an intellectually stimulating evening, thanks especially to a skillful production and two solid performances from Martin Rayner (as Freud) and Mark H. Dold (as Lewis). All told, there's a surprising amount of brain-food on the boards in New York this summer.