Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

Jillian is the most the versatile playwright I've encountered on NPX. And she always delivers. "Morphology" is a staggering script, and a profound, mentally re-arranging reminder that love transcends language. There's (pun very much intended) so much to dive into beneath the surface of this play, from the tenderly treated subject matter to the language shifts and flow, this is another perfect example of a timely, important story that only theatre can tell. This one is thunderous.

A tender, mind-bending one-act about family, creation, and the pursuit of life and art in a dying world. In the contemporary age, it’s easy for any artist to wonder why it’s worth pursuing their medium when one day all that we’ve made will cease to exist. What if that day is sooner rather than later? This play is a wonderful meditation on how the stories we create mean everything in the meantime. And they make the moments in-between them mean all the more. Beautiful script.

Yes, Cross' blood-drenched and gore-ridden adaptation is an homage to one of the greatest tragedies of theatre history, but she also slides the zombie tropes so neatly and efficiently into the classic work that you genuinely can't tell the difference (minus one or two delightful exclamations). It turns the story into something magnificently fun and intriguing, both analytically and practically, and I would fight through a hoard of the undead to see it staged. I can't overstate how genius it is.

O when others have the gall to actually expect things from us?! This was a wild, little jaunt through reincarnation and the purpose of life (or lives?), one that will surely leave an audience with much food for thought. Anderson’s dialogue straddles the line between mundane and crackling with energy, enhancing the setting and its place in the world with great success. These are some fun characters suddenly faced with very unexpected and surreal choices, which is always my favorite. Really nice.

Anderson’s short is layered with the perfect amount of “should I be laughing?” The premise of such a discovery in budding grief is an absolute delight as a reader, and I could honestly watch the interplay between the two sisters forever. Thought-provoking, chuckle-inducing, and everything in-between, a lot is done with little here, and it makes me excited to check out more of the playwright’s work.

An endearing, delightful, and thoughtful exploration of grief and loss. Dunkle’s script is geared towards younger audiences, but holds a wisdom that you can appreciate and take in at any age. The opportunities here, too, for young actors and designers are just sublime, and the world is immediately infectious. Definitely something those participating in and viewing would just love in equal measure.

I had the opportunity to see a production of this at Moving Arts and was just blown away. Grissom’s script is beautiful & deftly structured, portraying a nuanced, lived-in friendship between two women brought together again by unexpected circumstances. I appreciate how the conflict exponentially grows as the women realize how much they’ve changed (or not?) in the other’s absence, casting neither as the villain, but individuals w/hopes, dreams, regrets, and personas private & public. Brilliant.

I had the opportunity to catch a production of this in LA and it was wild in the best of ways. Part horror, part dark comedy, all fascinating character study where, for me, the question was less "why are these women possessed?" but "why do they want to be?" Each of these characters are gold to an actor, and Deutsch's dialogue flows nimbly from hilariously off-putting to frighteningly unsettling in a manner of instants. A wonky exploration of fame, faith, and love. And pigs. And potatoes. Yeah.

As I write this recommendation, I’m in sunny Los Angeles. I am not taking that for granted. A perfect short that shows you can never truly underestimate the sadism of a math teacher. And the button is just *chef’s kiss.

If you’ve ever loved, even the thought of your person and your everything suddenly being ripped from your life can be destabilizing. To experience it can destroy you. Willoughby’s script is a moving, richly drawn portrait of grief, and how the only way through it is through it. You can’t hide, you can’t run, you can’t even beat it, only lean on those pieces and persons left behind and move forward together. Rough and uncomfortable, and a brilliant piece of memory and celebration of life.