“Ruhl writes in a poised, crystalline style about things that are irrational and invisible . . . In her plays, Ruhl contends with the pressing existential issues; her stoic comic posture is a means of killing gravity, of taking the heaviness out of her words in order to better contend with life . . . Her plays are bold. Her nonlinear form of realism—full of astonishments, surprises and mysteries—is low on exposition and psychology . . . She writes with space, sound and image as well as words; her goal is to make the audience live in the moment, to make the known unfamiliar in order to reanimate it. Dead Man’s Cell Phone is a mad pilgrimage of an imagination as it is invaded and atomized by the phone, which transforms private as well as public space.”

—JOHN LAHR, New Yorker

 

“After you’re gone, how will you be remembered? In her new oddball comedy, Ruhl chews on that question in a smartly entertaining way. Ruhl’s fascination with death never feels morbid, because satire is her oxygen. She is a keen observer of social custom, and there is something forever vital in her lyrical and biting takes on how we behave.”

—PETER MARKS, Washington Post

 

“Ruhl’s zany probe of the razor-thin line between life and death offers some enjoyable insights into modern-day ironies. Dead Man’s Cell Phone delivers a fresh and humorous look at the times we live in.”

—PAUL HARRIS, Variety

 

“A captivating, dark-edged romantic comedy with an extraordinarily creative premise.”

—MELISSA ROSE BERNARDO, Entertainment Weekly

 

“Ruhl makes acute observations about how being surrounded by wireless devices has eroded public-private boundaries and made our lives ghostly, atomized and impermanent.”

—DAVID COTE, TimeOut New York