Telling every child, no matter how average or sub-par they might actually be, that they’re “special” or “extraordinary” is one of the worst things to happen to the current generation since Columbine turned every weirdo into a potential murderer. And their post-liberal-arts-college shock is, of course, that the only thing awaiting them are low-level jobs that have nothing to do with their degree in art history, and they’ll never really accomplish anything truly spectacular with their lives.

Some people, however, never see the writing on the walls. At least, that’s how it seems with Sylvia (Rachel Schwartz) in "One Sixteenth." Convinced that she has greatness within her if she could only find the medium to express it, Sylvia spends forty minutes chattering away to herself, while a man (Adam Marks) plays her piano for underscoring. Star Schwartz is also the playwright, and gives herself plenty of quiet, poignant moments to shine; but she also repeats lines that she finds amusing, particularly an observation about pointy-toed shoes that gradually devolves into her yelling “pointy-pointies” several times.

And in an odd twist, poor Sylvia’s fate to be miserable in a perfectly ordinary life is highlighted by the subject of the evening’s second show. An episodic look at the life of early John Waters’ film star Cookie Mueller, "Love Dr. Mueller" paints a picture of a woman who haphazardly fell into the zeitgeist at every opportunity. Whether she’s finding herself enjoying an accidental jolt of electroshock therapy, wigging out in Haight-Asbury, or having sex with a chicken in a John Waters’ film, Mueller leads the kind of effortlessly exciting life that Sylvia might have assumed as her right.

Alternately played by three different actresses in three very different ways, Cookie Mueller comes across as a flaky ‘60s chick, a levelheaded provocateur and a slightly wry and wistful mother. Based on her own writings, "Love Dr. Mueller" (adapted by director Kareem Fahmy and the cast) manages to avoid the pitfalls of most biographical shows by eschewing thudding exposition and letting Cookie’s life speak for itself. A little more detail would be nice, since nothing more than a poster to end a scene (and a program note) mentions that Cookie dies of AIDS-related illnesses after being a heroin addict, but we’re quickly lured into her rollercoaster life by the immense charm of Heather Hollingsworth, Dana Jacks and McKenna Kerrigan, all of whom have obviously fallen a little in love with the woman they’re portraying.

Co-starring Matthew J. Nichols, Kyle Knauf and David Taylor Bennett as a welter of men (and women) in Cookie’s life, "Love Dr. Mueller" manages to both inspire and depress us not just with the breadth and effortlessness of Cookie’s fantastic picaresque of a life, but with her unflinching reaction to it. What else could we feel but awe after Kerrigan looks out at the audience and, in perfect deadpan, says of her rapist: “He wasn’t even good at it. And he was stupid.” If Love Dr. Mueller occasionally lapses (Fahmy’s direction could use a little tightening, and several of the actors could spend a bit more time with their scripts), the lapses are forgivable. After all, here’s a real life, down-and-dirty Holly Golightly—trading in a Henry Mancini theme song for a sex scene with poultry.

Photo of McKenna Kerrigan as Cookie Mueller and Matthew J. Nichols as The Nurse by Jasmine Pai

Tonight's performance at Hudson Guild Theater, then "Love Dr. Mueller" continues Nov. 18, 19, 22 & 24. West End Theatre, 263 W. 86th St. (betw. B’way & West End Ave.), 212-868-4444, $15.