Terence Rattigan’s Man and Boy was written in the 1960s and is set in the 1930s, but it would unfortunately resonate in any decade. This portrait of a desperate business tycoon was inspired by an obscure, real-life figure. But modern audiences may be forgiven for thinking of a certain recently notorious Ponzi schemer while watching it.

The Roundabout Theatre Company is presenting a cannily timed revival of this largely forgotten work—a flop in its original 1963 London and Broadway productions—that offers a juicy star turn for Frank Langella.

The 73-year-old delivers a mesmerizing performance as Gregor Antonescu, a Romanian financier whose fraudulent empire is on the verge of collapsing.  Pursued by both the media and the authorities, he takes refuge in the basement Greenwich Village apartment of his long-estranged son Vasily (Adam Driver), who has taken the new name of Basil Anthony.  

There he intends to engage in a last-ditch effort to revive his fortunes by facilitating a merger with another company headed by Mark Herries (Zach Grenier) a closeted gay CEO who Gregor dismissively labels a “fairy.”

At first, Gregor--assisted by his loyal aide-de-camp Sven (Michael Siberry)--uses his charm and fast-talk duplicity to brush aside the arguments of Herries’ accountant (Brian Hutchison) that the numbers don’t add up. But he reserves his most shameless tactic until the end of the evening, when he dangles his attractive, bohemian son as sexual bait to entice his rival into signing off on the deal.

This is one of the more provocative if outlandish aspects of the play, which doesn’t fully succeed as either a family drama about the troubled relationship between father and son or as an indictment of ruthless capitalism. But it hardly matters, as the playwright’s gift for witty, cutting dialogue is well in evidence--it’s delivered by a first-rate ensemble under the finely tuned direction of Maria Aitken.

First and foremost, of course, is Langella, who conveys his character’s cunning, amorality and larger-than-life personality with sublimity. He relies, of course, on his forceful physical presence and booming, stentorian voice. But he also delivers a performance of masterful comic timing and physicality that is endlessly entertaining. Watch, for instance, the subtly mincing manner he suddenly adopts when trying to convince his business rival that he is secretly gay.

Equally fine is Siberry, as the loyal lieutenant who carefully looks out for his own interests every step of the way; Grenier, as the savvy businessman who succumbs to his baser instincts; and Driver, sympathetic as the son who eventually rallies to his father’s aide in spite of his own socialist leanings.

As is typical of Roundabout productions, the production elements are impeccable, particularly Derek McLane’s beautifully detailed set and Kevin Adams’ expressive lighting.

American Airlines Theatre, 227 W. 42nd St. 212-719-1300. www.roundabouttheatre.org.