Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

Unrelentingly human. Bolduc’s play immediately submerges the audience into a moving and explorative dreamscape of grief, perseverance, survivor’s guilt, rage, and so much more. The structure is brilliantly messy, perfectly mirroring the chaos of mourning, no matter time nor space. To say much more would be spoiling the journey, but know this script is a tremendous call for life and human existence. This would be immensely powerful to experience live, and I hope I get the opportunity to do so soon.

Where's the line between entertainment and sadism? Whether you're familiar with this particular flavor of "extreme immersive haunt" or not (if you've never heard of McKamey Manor, don't google it), there's a fascinating amount of human nature and psychology to unpack. The dread is palpable from the very start and just gets worse and worse with each page, leading to a finale you will not see coming, but feels inevitable in hindsight. The lesson here is certainly that consent should be revokable during the middle of any experience, but moreover, maybe that humans weren't meant to eat ghost peppers.

The men are not all right. Unfortunately for Wendy (and so many others), the only thing harder than being a man in the age of the internet is being a woman. KBQ's deep dive into the darkest forums of toxic masculinity is explosive, and an important reminder that behind every account (usually), is another human being. Now that's NO excuse for being shitty (or worse), but it shows how far social media has warped our ability to connect, as well as the misogyny that has existed since the beginning of time. A rallying cry in what feels an endless war.

Perhaps you've had a Marie. Someone who just "knows" they can do your job better than you. And who has absolutely no qualms or reservations when it comes to telling you this right to your face. GO AWAY. SHUT UP. DO IT THEN.

This short play is actually pretty good advice. Maybe a little extreme. But certainly something that no one involved will forget. Hilarious. And vindicating.

A delightfully funny and infectious set-up for a farce, the only thing more entertaining in Schoffel's play is how gloriously inept (while still intelligent) her characters are. There are some incredible monologues here, and putting together the timings and mistimings will be sure to keep a producing company on their toes. This is a hit for any audience and setting.

For my own personal experiences, the well-meaning conservatives I’ve encountered aren’t nasty people. But they do lack empathy. The kind of thing where they truly can't (or won't) put themselves into someone else’s shoes until it happens to someone they literally know. Or themselves. Once they get that, that’s when values and opinions start changing.

This play is a perfect example of this and is a gut-punch. It shouldn’t take trauma like this to provoke that emotional work. And we should condemn those who know better and still hurt others regardless.

A lonely marriage gives way to people watching, which gives way to obsession, which gives way to something much more dark and powerful. Hoffman's done wonders here with an incredible adaptation that is evocative of the greats. I've never read the original story, and while I will now, I'd argue that I don't need to. The atmosphere, characters, and sensual allure practically explode off the page. This story goes there, and any company with enough determination to program it will leave an audience like Marie, forever changed.

A writer's process is a delicate thing, different for all of us. Some of us have our pre-session rituals or ambiance we must have, while others prefer our spaces just so. And Philip is...well, there's a lot going on when you're imagining a bust of your favorite author and inspiration talking back at you. Seriously, Philip, what is this? Is this motivational for you? Do you need an external force to help give you drive? Mandryk's short play is utterly hilarious, and the only folks that will have more fun with this play than the audience are the actors.

Women in STEM! Women in STEM!

It’ll hit all of us at probably a different point in Syran’s weaving, history-spanning epic of four detentionees tasked with writing a fairly complex essay: “How far have the sciences progressed since the Enlightenment? And how far haven’t women’s rights?” At once a condemnation of this, and a celebration of the great and genius minds who broke through it all, this is a fantastic play for all audiences. Filled with depth (for the modern & historical characters alike), and evocative of the greatest human aspirations. Excellently constructed.

More than any other Pantheon, the Norse gods have always had a unique penchant for buffoonery in their wanton violence. The Greeks are so dramatic they could never. Syran not only perfectly nails this tone, but deftly captures the turmoil and uncertainty of a people transitioning faiths. True or no, the stories we have, the ones told to us as children, the same ones we share and tell again as we age, they are what define us. A moving, beautiful exploration of cycles, beginnings and ends, family, and how everything is more or less Loki’s fault.