I don't agree with a friend who thinks that Comedy Central's wacked-out sitcom "Strangers With Candy" is the best thing on television, but I can certainly see why he would think so. It is a comic program that is truly, genuinely odd and operates on such gonzo logic, it becomes addicting. You just can't wait to see what weirdo will pop up next and what he'll say, and the show's refreshing bravado is appreciated in this age of sanitized blurs mistaken for ace comedy. Amy Sedaris, one half of The Talent Family (with brother David, an Esquire contributor and novelist), makes "Candy"'s lead character both frightening and funny and has one of those distinct personas you couldn't possibly mix up with anyone else. In the Drama Dept.'s latest production, The Book of Liz, we get another of Amy Sedaris' goofy creations, and her comic gifts are still fully in evidence. However, the show surrounding her can be soggy, and for all its earned laughs never mines the comic territory you're hoping it will. In Liz, Sedaris (who penned with David) plays Sister Elizabeth Donderstock, a "Squeamish" hausfrau with an ugly habit of sweating profusely. She works under the rule of Rev. Tollhouse (Chuck Coggins), who browbeats her and takes her knack for making magnificent cheeseballs for granted. He instructs her to pass on the beloved cheeseball recipe to Brother Nathaniel Brightbee (David Rakoff), which she reluctantly does before realizing she's tired of being stepped on. She runs away from her "Squeamish" town, with Pilgrim garb and all, and soon befriends Oxana (Jackie Hoffman), a Ukrainian woman who she meets on the highway in a Mister Peanut costume. Oxana decides to take her in, and soon Elizabeth must learn to deal with the outside world she's only dreamed of. She gets a job at a local restaurant, where she becomes confidante to the copious gay employees, all the while hiding her true identity. The Sedaris duo are bold and original, and really know a good laugh line. (They're not above toilet humor either, one of the show's heartiest laughs comes from Elizabeth's botched urine sample.) But director/designer Hugh Hamrick never finds a consistent tone for the laughs to really pour in. Even at a scant 75 minutes, this oddly tame play bobs and weaves, and despite the game cast, rarely rises above a solid evening of Nick at Nite. It would seem that Amish customs and lifestyles would be like shooting fish in a barrel comically, but for every joke that soars, more are barely unearthed, a disappointment considering the prodigious talents at work.
