Every art form must, at some point, consecrate a practitioner to the level of supreme deity. Consumer electronics did it to Steve Jobs, high fashion did it to Princess Diana, and a powerful triumvirate of theater, gay men, and popular music joined to launch Barbra Streisand into iconic fame. Adoration of the diva has blossomed into an art form of its own in the one-man comedy Buyer & Cellar, visiting the Curran Theater for an off-Broadway tour. The high priest of this self-conscious inquiry into celebrity worship is the puckish Michael Urie, whose constantly thrumming body and comedic dexterity make the absence of the real Barbra acceptable. The fictional premise of the play, that Urie has been hired by Babs as the single employee of her underground home shopping mall, is hardly stranger than the truth: Streisand really does have a vintage subterranean mini-mall of her own design. Jonathan Tollins’ hit is so entertaining that you may not even notice it exploring the depths of materialism, nostalgia, and our collective need for refuge, whether in song, story, or a multimillion dollar personal storage unit.