In conservative communities shut away from the outside world, change comes slowly and painfully. The challenge for those who go against the grain is even greater in such places, as people often find themselves stuck halfway between the traditional world they know and the fast-paced, unfamiliar, modern world outside.
"The Book of Liz," the 2001 play by brother and sister humorists David and Amy Sedaris, tells the story of Sister Elizabeth Donderstock, a woman from an Amish-like community of people who call themselves the "Squeamish." She makes her escape from the aptly-named town of Clusterhaven to find freedom and make her way in the world.
Donderstock (played by the endearingly awkward senior Annie Outerbridge) is a sweaty, overeager member of the Squeamish community who single-handedly puts Clusterhaven on the tri-state map by selling her famous cheese balls. Whether traditional flavor or smoky, no one else seems to be able to make them like she can.
Donderstock is edged out by flashy and pompous newcomer Brother Nathaniel Brightbee (senior Greg Smith), Reverend Tollhouse (sophomore Ned Berger) and gossipy Sister Constance Butterworth (junior Chelsea Donahue) in the name of change and masculine society values. Unhappy and unappreciated, Donderstock decides to take a drastic step: She leaves the safety of the compound.
In her travels, she meets Oxana (junior Julia DiGiammarino) and Yvone (sophomore Sam Dunn), a couple from "Ukrania" who take her into their apartment and help her find a job as a waitress at the Plymouth Crock, a pilgrim-themed diner staffed by a mélange of recovering alcoholics and gay waiters (among them DiGiammarino as Cecily, Dunn as Duncan, and Berger as Donny and Rudy).
Meanwhile, things back in Clusterhaven are going downhill in a hurry. Without Donderstock's cheese ball-making expertise, sales drop dramatically. Brightbee fails completely, claiming that Donderstock has lied and left him with an incomplete cheese ball recipe. Only her return can save the community. Only Donderstock can provide the secret ingredient that even she didn't know was there.
No subject is sacred or safe from the Sedaris siblings' biting wit. This humor is especially funny considering the religious undertones of the show. Donderstock's foray into the world outside of Clusterhaven is a clash of contradicting societies and moralities as she grapples with the unfamiliar and strange. "Liz" pokes fun at everything from Americana to religion. "These cheese balls are my life - aside from God!" Donderstock exclaims when she finds out that Brightbee has replaced her as the primary cheese ball maker.
Despite its common messages of acceptance and respect, "Liz" stays firmly away from the didactic.
"It pokes fun at those little pieces of religion that we all know and love, with a little bit of sarcasm to boot," said Lisa Goldberg, the show's director. Goldberg, a junior, has directed several times for Tufts stages.
Outerbridge, for whom this stage production is her first at Tufts, agreed.
"This is a story about a life lesson, not religious practices or specific beliefs," she said.
But most of all, "Liz" is good, plain fun. The Sedaris' characters are sometimes outrageous and often strange. The play touches on issues that could be considered serious when handled by other playwrights, but even these fall prey to the comic genius of David and Amy. How else could Mr. Peanut (yes, the same guy on the Planter's cans) come to represent homosexuality or an excessive sweating disorder pave the way to personal happiness?
"There is so much serious theater out there - the cast and rehearsal staff of 'Liz' and I were here to have fun," Goldberg said. "It's experimental enough to be a perfect 3Ps independent production," she added. But econ majors and engineers need not fear that this "experimental" play is beyond them. Everyone involved in "Liz" is determined to make the audience come away laughing. The script swings from childish jokes to wry intelligent humor in the blink of an eye.
While the characters may be more like caricatures, each is still innately human. More importantly, despite their outrageous deportment, the characters still manage to ring true.
Donderstock doesn't demand huge changes from her old-fashioned society, nor does the play end with every loose end tied into a neat little bow. But somehow, "Liz" departs with a wave and a cheeky smile, reminding viewers to appreciate the hand they're dealt, and maybe even live with a little more optimism.
