In The Life of Reilly, his autobiographical one-man stage show, Charles Nelson Reilly still speaks with that patented game-show-queen lisp, only now he's spitting fire he's like Sylvester the Cat in the body of Livia Soprano. Reilly, in his 70s, takes us through his hilariously awful childhood: Eugene O'Neill as toxic high camp. Yet he's far more candid recalling his grand delusions in a school play (''I sounded like Meryl Streep watching the rushes of Sophie's Choice!'') than he is when he gets to Broadway and Hollywood, where his memories of Match Game, of being gay in a straight world are disappointingly sketchy. B-

