Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

  • Parasocial
    19 May. 2022
    It's the dark side of entertainment. A symptom of the voyeurism. People start to feel like they know you. Like they deserve to know you. Danko's play is fun and filled with a palpable dread from the opening pages, weaving a concise tale of so much more than just how the pandemic has (and continues to) impacted our social skills. Has it broken us? Or just amplified something that's always been there? A damning indictment of American celebrity culture wrapped up in a script full of opportunity for improv and creative staging.
  • Time Hole
    16 May. 2022
    This play is a goddamned delight. I literally love everything about this play. Its subtleties, its soliloquies, its condemnation of the future we're headed towards, its love of Doritos, I could go on. In a world too full of grim issue plays devoid of personality and character, Proctor tackles just as much (if not more) in a FUNNY romantic comedy of time travel. I'm blown away. A perfect example of not only my favorite kind of play, but the kind we desperately need more of. Produce this shit.
  • We Lovers
    1 May. 2022
    I'm a lover of stories about telling stories. The act of storytelling provokes ritual, escape, hope, and everything in-between, for the performers and listeners in equal measure. St. Croix (and his characters) are unmatched storytellers, seasoned orators deftly weaving worlds of ancient epics and legend. The fact that these stories are told in the modern day, in today's world filled with and assailed by contemporary (or perhaps the same) problems humanity wreaks upon itself, make them mean even more. Some things are timeless. Energized. Despite everything, love. This is a fantastical one-act that will drop jaws. Highly recommend.
  • Hot Blood Sundae
    1 May. 2022
    Not just deftly dropping an insanely good title, Kantor brings what might be the only lycanthropy-positive story I've ever seen. It's delicious (heh heh heh). Jess and Bex's conversation while waiting for test results gives us a feast (I'll stop) of insight into the simmering rage and exhaustion that comes from living under patriarchal "feminine" standards. It's funny, smart, and just the perfect amount of cathartic. I'll never think about ice cream the same way again.
    1 May. 2022
    The best horror knows how much to give us, and how much to let our imaginations do the work. Marchant's monologue nails it. Scary, funny, completely innocent! Maybe. Is it innocent? It could be. But the more you think about it, maybe not. It depends on your state of mind. That's a long line of shoes, come to think of it. Oh god.

    28 Apr. 2022
    Why do we have children? For their sake? Or our own? Cross' beautiful, lyrical play is an astonishing short fable that probes into familial love, rejection, and what happens when our children turn out to be their own people. The language is delicate and cool like the sheen of the moon, but as dense as the forest. The central struggle of LostMother to accept this unexpected child is treated tenderly and can be played any number of ways (although the loud vitriol against our LGBTQ+ community comes to mind at the forefront). Highly recommend. I should go call my mom.
  • An Evening with Nyarlathotep
    28 Apr. 2022
    Soucy isn't kidding. Nyalathotep is surprisingly approachable. Quite sensible, really. The conversation that ensues pulls us in with a juxtaposed charisma before it effortlessly and matter-of-factly proceeds to break our minds, in proper cosmic horror fashion. Is humanity futile? Does our need to attach meaning or make life make sense render us fools? Or admirable warriors? If we entertain Elder Gods to any such degree, maybe there is something fascinating going on, if only we can figure out how to get out of our own heads a bit. A thought-provoking rumination on meaning, existence, and change.
  • You Have Earned Bonus Stars
    26 Apr. 2022
    There's a (newer?) word, sonder. It means a sudden realization that everyone around us, down to the random pedestrians we pass on the street, is living a vast life, just as full of the complexities and layers and traumas that make up our own. Lucky enough to watch Gatton's beautiful script, that's the word I kept coming back to. Sometimes we don't wake up to the infinities inside others (or ourselves) until something terrible reminds us we're all human, and that we don't know when we might suddenly cease. A tremendous play full of nightmares, hilarity, hope, breath, and blood.
  • juice
    21 Apr. 2022
    Kirkman refers to her play as a tool. As a tool, it is a blueprint for a story that no matter how you stage it (and you could in MANY ways, this is an enthralling playground) comes back to one question, "would you take pain if it meant your neighbor took less?" The journey is a funny, disturbing character study with echoes of morality and ethics that rival "The Good Place," but replaces its zaniness with a wry, claustrophobic terror. A deeply unsettling ending puts everything that came before into perspective, and I can't wait to keep "digesting" it.
  • Spotting Thermals
    20 Apr. 2022
    Humanity has a knack for putting a unique balance of beauty and ugliness into the world. Corona's sharp, brisk thriller is nothing short of a stunning portrait of this. As a series of bizarre murders rocks the town of the protagonists, "Spotting Thermals" poetically submerges itself in (or ascends into?) the murkiness of mental health, delusion, hope, maladaptive coping, and everything in-between. It's a fantastic change of pace to see a play tap from the world of crime procedurals, and the complex web of characters is deftly drawn and richly realized. Hell of a play.