"The Book of Liz' is a subversive comedy for all-even the Squeamish"

Hedy Weiss, theatre critic
Chicago Sun-Times
Published May 13, 2003

If the U.S.State Department were to ask me to list the theatrical productions it should send abroad to give a true picture of American life and thought, l'd quickly append "The Book of Liz," now in its Chicago premiere by Roadworks Productions.

Sure, this latest lunatic satire by the Talent Family (that irrepressible and irreverent brother-and-sister act of Amy and David Sedaris) is vaguely subversive. But

in order to fully comprehend its humor, international audiences would have to tearn some

crucial things about American democracy and culture (both high and very, very low). And a canny teacher could use the comedy as the basis for introducing a study of everything from Christian fundamentalism and classic American authors (see Cotton Mather, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Mark Twain and Arthur Mil!er's "The Crucible"), to marketing (see the Planters Peanut logo, theme restaurants, Alcoholics Anonymous' 12-step program and, above all, mail-order-savvy religious orders), immigration (green cards, if you please), and the notion of the ever-morphing self.

Just how deliciously rich "The Book of Liz" actually is does not become apparent right off the bat. Initially it feels a bit stuck in a "Saturday Night Live"- style routine. But once the 90-minute odyssey of Sistei- Elizabeth Donderstock (played by that incomparable down, Maggie Carney) gets going-and she heads off on a uniquely zany road trip of self-discovery after a lifetime spent within the secluded, patriarchal confines of Squeamish, a strictly religious community that is one part Amish and one part Old World Puritan-the

inspired lunacy knows no bounds. And it escalates neatly into something just this side of crazy, as well as just this side of true. In the process, under the zestful direction of Birgitta Victorson, the cast of four tireless, fast-changing actors (which also includes Mierka Girten, Aaron Cedolia and Robert Kaercher) gets to run amok, though it keeps uncanny control of loopy accents, far-out characters, stop-watch timing and the vast collection of ratty beards and wigs crucial to the comedy. The whole escapade is set in motion when the unctuous Rev. Tollhouse (Kaercher) forces Sister Elizabeth to hand over to his colleague Brother Brightbee (Cedolia) her secret recipe for cheeseballs-the sale of which has kept the inbred community afloat in the modern World. After years of devoted service and submission, this is just too much for Elizabeth. So she heads for the interstate, where, naive, wide-eyed and open to experience, she begins to test what the wider World has to offer. Along the way she encounters Oxana (Girten), a flashy Ukrainian immigrant wlth a Cockney accent, her punkish husband, Yvone (Cedolia), and his loutish brother, Visil (Kaerchar). And she finds employment as a waitress in a Pilgrim-themed diner that employs recovering alcoholics who also appear to be gay. Elizabeth fits right in, and even shows managerial potential, lthough there are limits to how far she will go when presented with a newly instituted dress code. As to what happens back in Squeamish, where the cheeseballs seem to be missing something, let’s just say that orders are down and the Shaker-like furniture and housewares of the rectory (courtesy of designers Geoffrey M. Curley and Mati Johnson) are up for säle. To watch Carney at work is to see a performer whose body language, facial gestures, voice and mannerisms are so unified, and so brilliantly in tune with her character, that you might as well be seeing one of the classic vaudevillian clowns like Buster Keaton, Fannie Brice or Bert Lahr. Whether she's in a state of perpetual overheatedness, or just trying to make sense of the crazy world all around her, she is a hoot, from her hot flashes to her curtsies. The remarkably protean Girten speaks faster than the speed of light as the obedient Sister Constance Butterworth, and brings wildly disparate characterizations to the roles of Oxana, a socialite traveler, a decidedly bizarre physician, and a tough trucker babe. And Kaercher and Cedolia are wackily funny whether playing impossibly arrogant pious men or !ow-life Ukrainians. (All the actors are aided and abetted by Heather Good's zany costumes.) lt's a good bet that if mail-order coupons for those Squeamish cheeseballs were inserted in the programs, the producers would get orders from everyone in the audience. As for fruit cakes, you need only depend on those Sedaris siblings, and the actors on stage.