The terms iconoclast and multihyphenate can get thrown around pretty liberally, but no one in contemporary theater has proven more prolifically deserving of both than Taylor Mac.

Over the past decade, the playwright, performance artist, actor, director, singer/songwriter, and drag icon — who uses “judy” as a pronoun — has earned praise for efforts ranging from a Pulitzer Prize finalist, “A 24-Decade History of Popular Music,” a 24-hour concert tracing American songs from between 1776 and 2016, to the Tony Award-nominated “Gary, A Sequel to Titus Andronicus,” a black comedy following the servants charged with cleaning up the carnage in Shakespeare’s bloodiest play.

Taylor Mac’s latest outing, “Prosperous Fools,” is a two-act play fixed on a target that would seem ripe for satire: cultural philanthropy, and in particular the hypocrisy and shallowness of many uberwealthy patrons of the arts. Unfortunately, the playwright’s distinctive blend of irreverence and whimsy isn’t as finely tuned as it has been for some other projects, and the results can seem self-indulgent and silly.

Based very loosely on Moliere’s “Le Bourgeois Gentillehome,” “Fools” unfolds as a not-for-profit dance company is preparing a gala to honor a billionaire contributor and a celebrity humanitarian. Taylor Mac plays the artist who has crafted the dance piece, a character drawn with self-effacing humor — to ensure us that rich philistines aren’t the only subjects of parody here.

Having maintained the “artistic integrity of obscurity” for years, the artist is now, with a ballet about Prometheus, hoping to bring virtue where it’s most needed. “Haven’t I dreamt, all these years, of nibbling my way out of the margins and into the court so that I could critique the court?” the artist asks, but then admits to worrying that “the critique is so subversive the audience doesn’t know it’s subversive.”

Certainly, the billionaire being feted — referred to in the script as “$#@%$,” which is pronounced like the clamorous buzzer used to indicate an incorrect response on a game show — wouldn’t have a clue he’s being mocked, or who Prometheus is for that matter. Turning up in a baseball cap, sneakers, and a T-shirt reading, “Time for my nap,” he’s the picture of a brogliarch, combining Elon Musk’s sartorial style with a crude flamboyance that nods to our current president.

One of the most excruciating moments in “Fools” finds $#@%$ — given eager gruffness by Jason O’Connell — cajoling the dance company’s tightly wound artistic director, whom he calls Philanthropoid, into snorting, squealing, and rolling around on all fours in a tortured simulation of a pig. Like some of the rambling monologues in the play, this business goes on longer than it should; later, after gobbling tranquilizers, Philanthropoid, played by an initially elegant and enduringly game Jennifer Regan, has a boisterous breakdown.

There are more inspired bits of bawdy physical comedy, deftly managed by director Darko Tresnjak and choreographer Austin McCormick. But the script’s wit generally isn’t sharp enough to sustain its frantic energy, so that many of the talented players — among them a winsome Kaliswa Brewster, cast as the artist’s hyper-idealistic intern — are reduced to shrill overstatement.

One notable exception is Sierra Boggess, whose silvery soprano and warm presence have been featured in numerous Broadway musicals. Playing the celebrity humanitarian, an Angelina Jolie-like figure who sweeps across the stage dripping jewels, often with a starving child in tow, Ms. Boggess brings grace and expert comic timing to some of the play’s funnier passages, among them a dissection of the true feelings of beggars.

“Prosperous Fools” concludes with an amusing, poignant epilogue, in which Taylor Mac sums up its message, addressing the audience directly. While not exactly pithy, the speech is pointed and eloquent; one wishes the writer and star would have applied just a bit more of that discipline to the play at large.