Playwright Sarah Ruhl is equally deft at depicting onstage the healing properties of a vibrator, the passion of Christ, and why one should or shouldn’t pick up the cell phone of the dead man sitting next to her at a café. In 100 Essays I Don’t Have Time to Write, she changes her medium but keeps her zaniness. Her essays tackle chimpanzees, motherhood, Chekhov, fire alarms, and the future of theater, but we doubt she’ll let her idiosyncratic observations be confined to just those subjects. Ruhl has a gift for extracting heavy existential questions out of the darnedest things, and she surely does so as she reads from this latest volume tonight. Even if Ruhl didn’t have the time to write the essays, there is no doubt they will make her audience laugh, think, and celebrate this modern luminary’s talent.
Mon., Sept. 22, 7 p.m., 2014
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on September 17, 2014