Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

My ADHD sometimes means I read short chunks of plays in public spaces. The thrift store, the gym, the car. There's a sequence in "The Hanging Girl" that is so visually striking and creepy that it stopped me cold in full artificial lighting, surrounded by people. That's fucking powerful. When you talk about the potential of onstage horror, Merilo's epic is a perfect example to point to. Deftly interwoven and theatrically bold, filled with opportunities for choreo and skillful design, this is a stellar tale of the strings that not only bind us together, but those that reverberate throughout history.

A deep dive into rage, righteous and petty. The story of Boy and Wendy is all too common in today's society, yet it's one that repeats itself again and again. Mohlman condenses this fury into an immensely theatrical script, providing opportunities for unforgettable imagery and staged movement. The whole production team has a playground here, or perhaps more appropriate to say, a pool. I can only imagine what it would be like to hear the Mermaids in real time. A commanding wall of sound, deftly paced like a poem. This is expertly crafted.

In a scene that will seep right through your skin and stay there long after you walk away from it, Girard tackles connection, longing, aging, and so much more. A little creepy, a little romantic, we hit a lot before the final lines, and the ride is very much worth it. The less spoiled, here, the better. So step in, because the train's leaving the platform.

Look, Satan has feelings too (actually, perhaps too many feelings, that's why we're in this mess in the first place), and it's up to Clarence to cheer up the Dark Lord. Mabey's play is, at once, a delightful holiday spoof and fun story in its own right, and would "kill" in any festival setting, holiday or no. You can't go wrong here.

Look, it's tough out there for actors. If we have to betray the whole human race for a gig, do we really deserve punishment? What about kudos for making the most of an ill-timed alien invasion? It's a bug-eat-human world out there, we gotta push the pavement.

An absolutely hysterical horror comedy one-act filled with some juicy twists and turns. Unrelated and for no apparent reason, I am now hungry. Hmmm.

What happens when sociopaths are taught to hate gay people?

Sickles' epic cycle is chilling, sobering, and succinct. There's a literal underworld to unpack in Luke's motivations. Is he simply someone capable of such depravity, does he genuinely believe his justifications for doing what he does to "little abominations," or does the hate preached by some organized religion simply provide an excellent excuse when tasked to explain yourself? Do they conflate? In Basyl's journey, too, there's also a moving arc about dealing with childhood trauma, and how we can come dangerously close to the monsters we despise. Terrific horror.

Watching a cringey date is like watching a car crash. Oh god you want to look away but you just can't. It's too fascinating. Niall puts his foot in his mouth more times than anyone I've ever seen, and the results are hilarious. What you don't expect is the tender and genuine places the conversation finally leads. Poor Niall has a lot to learn, but at least his heart's in the right place.

Amid the horrors of a political dispute slowly descending into all out apocalyptic armageddon, Gill finds satire so biting that it almost makes you forget the world as you know it is ending just outside the window. Deeply hilarious (you have to laugh, if you don't...), these four characters put one another through more and more absurdity until you think something has to finally break. And then it keeps breaking. Gill's world building is always top notch, and "The Mimosa War" is no different. It's all too plausible. Thankfully, it's also brilliant.

The shows are always the same. The performances. The protagonists.

Usually. Soltero-Brown's play, however, pulses with an enthralling, caustic energy. Lies and secrets can certainly push a marriage to the brink of extinction, but less is mentioned how they morph the participants. They change us over time, rob us of the people we were or might've been, to the point where nothing feels real except the exasperation. How do you save that? Can you? There's echoes of George and Martha in Otto and Casey's strained relationship. And it's delicious fun. I would love to see (and hear) this live.

Goddamn. Flynn's voice is one of the most powerful I've encountered. The rage and fury of this piece is so palpable, but there's a structure and a build here that does not become lost in the fire. Loss hits different when it's not caused by death. Physical death, at least. A colossal short play, immensely urgent, and full of wrath, both stylistic (theatre, baybee) and genuine.