In his provocative 2012 tragicomedy “Disgraced,” which opened at The Actors’ Group on Friday, playwright Ayad Akhtar makes the political personal, delving deep — with surgical wit — into how Americans of different color and culture perceive and treat one another in our fraught, post-9/11 era.

“Disgraced” won the 2013 Pulitzer Prize for drama and seems even more relevant today.

Set in a luxury Manhattan apartment filled with books and art, the action opens as Amir (Troy M. Apostol), an American-born corporate lawyer of Pakistani descent, poses for a portrait by his reedy blond wife Emily (Courtney Coston), who aims to update Diego Velazquez’ 1650 painting of Juan de Pareja, a dark-skinned Moor.

As they flirt, they fence: Asked by Amir why she’d compare him to a Spaniard’s slave, Emily says that Pareja was also a fellow artist, portrayed by Velazquez with respect in a nobleman’s white collar.

The high-strung, choleric Amir — a role Apostol commandeers with charm and swagger — looks fit to burst out of his own tailored white shirt, not to mention his ill-fitting identity. He has rejected the Islam of his immigrant parents and has two goals: to become the first non-Jewish partner in his law firm and to bring success to his wife, an unknown artist. We see him turn down a Labor Day invitation from a partner and mentor, having arranged a stay with his office pal Jory (Victoria Brown-Wilson) and her husband Isaac (Max Holtz), who is a curator for the Whitney Museum.

Amir’s beloved nephew (Noah Faumuina) visits to ask that Amir help with the legal defense of the imam at a local mosque. Amir is leery because “the man’s basically an alleged terrorist,” and he doesn’t want to be seen as pro-Muslim. Yet although he has changed his own last name to seem more Indian than Pakistani, he is appalled to learn that his nephew, Husain, now goes by Abe to fit in better.

“It’s different,” Abe tells Amir. “You were born here.”

Later, we learn that, against his better judgment, Amir did go to the imam’s hearing.

Meantime, we are treated to a funny, passive-aggressive dinner party scene among the two couples that recalls Edward Albee’s classic “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” Jests become barbs and a menacing tension grows between these members of New York’s liberal, self-styled intelligentsia, whose tribalism emerges in outbursts of racial, sexual and religious hate. (The play contains ethnic and sexist insults and other language that’s inappropriate for children.)

Amir, drunk and goaded by the much-taller Isaac, assumes a stereotypical persona out of Americans’ worst Muslim nightmares. In a great line, he calls the writers Martin Amis and Christopher Hitchens sanctimonious, Islamofascist, British bullies who haven’t read the Quran. We even begin to suspect idealistic Emily of manipulation and cultural appropriation. Not for nothing is Woody Allen’s “Annie Hall” referred to in the play.

Or are we just getting paranoid?

“Disgraced,” which may seem didactic at first, ultimately outsmarts audience members who think they know where it’s going. And we find we care about its flawed, contradictory — that is, human — characters. As Ron Heller states in his director’s note, he sought to achieve the playwright’s intent to make us face and question our own prejudices.

A standout: With deadpan delivery, the excellent Brown-Wilson, as the African-American lawyer Jory, zings her one-liners. For the rest of the cast, delivery could be brisker. And in a production that runs 90 minutes without intermission, swifter scene changes would help.

Still, these are quibbles. Everyone at TAG should be commended for staging a smart and unforgettable production of “Disgraced,” a brilliant and tremendously moving play for our complex times.