For the Squeamish The Theater Project takes a page from the siblings Sedaris BY MEGAN GRUMBLING
	The Book of Liz by David Sedaris and Amy Sedaris. Directed by Christopher Price. With Al Miller, Heather Weafer, Michele Livermore Wigton, and Lee K. Paige. Produced by The Theater Project, in Brunswick, through July 23. Call (207) 729-8584.

Sister Elizabeth Donderstock (Lee K. Paige) is feeling just a little gosh-darn underappreciated in her home among the brothers and sisters of Clusterhaven, a religious community of the Squeamish in upstate New York. Reverend Tollhouse (Al Miller) won’t let her help organize the virgins for the Chastity Parade, and her most meaningful vocation — the making of the famed Clusterhaven Cheeseballs — has been relegated to newcomer Brother Brightby (Michele Livermore Wigton) from the Dovetail parish. Sister Elizabeth has been put out to work in the chive pasture, and — as she tells the Reverend — she has "no temperament for chiving." What to do? Thus begins the gospel of The Book of Liz, a dramatic confection of silliness and satire, in Christopher Price’s smart production at the Theater Project.

There’s nothing else Liz can do, of course, but up and run off into the confusing secular world, where the first person she encounters is Auxana (Heather Weafer), a Ukrainian woman with a cockney accent in a peanut suit waving at cars from the side of the road. Before long, Liz is waiting tables at a costume-theme restaurant called the Pilgrim’s Pride which is staffed almost exclusively by recovering alcoholics. Plus, she’s riding a llama to work and facing a serious life decision concerning a certain embarrassing glandular problem. It all forces her into some long-overdue inner growth, as the self-helpers would say.

That this is all absurdly silly should be a given for any creation by the filial league of Sedaris, a union of two of the most distinctive comics out there today. Amy and David are best known, respectively, for the bizarro Strangers with Candy TV series (coming soon to the big screen!) and a now-classic treatise on the trials of employment as a Macy’s Christmas elf. More under the radar are the siblings’ collaborations, which include several plays written by "The Talent Family." In The Book of Liz, we get their signature goofy, irreverent, and strangely sweet social critique of both religious and secular society.

In the hands of Director Price and this simply terrific cast of four veteran actors, The Book of Liz treats us to ensemble acting at its sharpest, wackiest, most versatile best. With the exception of Paige, who remains in the shoes of Liz throughout, the ensemble members move among a bewildering array of distinctively Sedarian roles. Miller plays a mustachioed Ukrainian relative, the mildly sanctimonious Reverend Tollhouse, and Duncan, the sanguine gay AA-attending manager of the Pilgrim’s Pride. In the latter two roles, he wields a surprising amount of nuance for such a satirical script, and he treats us — without ever drawing too much attention to it — to delightfully rich and empathetic characters.

Wigton, bold and kinetic, fleetly changes between Auxana’s brash husband, an alcoholic doctor, an AA-attending waitress. And Weafer is a true virtuoso in her scrambling between several distinct and high-energy characters — from the jolly Auxana to a sly waitress at the Pilgrim to (my favorite) the nudgy gossip Sister Butterworth, whose nonstop prattle runs as smooth as her name.

Holding steady and endearing as Liz, Paige has a fine line to walk between silliness and sincerity, and her balance is spot-on.

Liz moves through a good handful of settings, from the rooms of Clusterhaven to Auxana’s "caravan" crash-pad to the Pilgrim’s Pride to the office of an AA-attending doctor. This production wisely eschews fancy set changes, and instead suggests its settings simply, with benches and tables. It’s effective and quite stylish, and a few stellar production designs — best of which is a flickering red gel that represents the glow of the Squeamish hearth — make this a streamlined and elegant show. Scene changes are silky-smooth, and each time the lights fade, there rise the strains of an a capella choir. Costumer Wendy Poole has a great eye, from the greys, blacks, and whites of the Squeamish to the red of Duncan’s mod leather jacket.

As for the writing itself, the Sedarises have a near-Dickensian talent for naming their creations. In addition to "Clusterhaven," they jibber the actors’ tongues with such treats as "Sister Stickleford," "Quilt County," and "the Musket-Stuffers Salad Bar." Sensibility-wise, Book of Liz is tamer than a lot of their work, but the occasional well-placed departure from decorum happily confirms that the Sedarises have not written a play for children or the faint of heart. (My favorite line is when the doctor, told that hardships can be good for us, retorts, "So, what, should I still be drinking a fifth of vodka a day and waking up with cum in my ears?")

Naughty words and great characters, milled gingersnaps and tubetops likened to beer cozies — the Sedarises offer it all. The folks at The Theater Project clearly relish every morsel, and their winsome show is all the yummier for it.

Megan Grumbling can be reached at mgrumbling@hotmail.com