Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

A delightful bit of weird for your morning. Or evening. Or if Kimmel's doing a bit that's dragging on too long and you need to escape into your phone for ten minutes. Is "Eternal Crushing" a good thing? Bad? Like all things, perhaps it depends on the context. Perhaps it's subjective. Like awards. Especially awards we give to ourselves. Bultrowicz is incredible when it comes to saying much with little, and this is another beautiful (and surreal) example. The designers will have a lot of fun with this puzzle too.

Floyd-Priskorn's "Live, Laugh, Lobotomize" was a touching, hilarious, and delightfully kitschy exploration of depression and (for lack of a better phrase) being alive in a society. "A Shop in the Darkness" is all this and more, expanding the lore and giving Ramiform the other half of their buddy comedy duo. There is a lot more juicy stuff to dwell on, as well as take in, serving only to compliment the adage that while depression and fear and negativity may not be a choice, choosing to fight them is. And that fight needs as many humans (or demons) as possible.

There are few playwrights dead or living that can capture the oft forgotten, but innate joy and jubilance of being alive. Or so eloquently demonstrate the vital human need to create. Mr. Martin is a goddamned wonder. Not only has he penned an incredibly relatable short comedy about the side effects of living in a society that pushes its own values and ideas of worth on its members, but it has cows. COWS! The things quarter-pounders are made of! It also has more that I will not spoil. This is a beautiful, beautiful play, and an ode to life.

Relatively often I will describe a play as "delicious fun." Never has that descriptor been so pun intended. This play provides an absolute blast for actors, designers, and audiences alike. We've perhaps seen "zombies?" at a fast-food joint before, but never like this, and rarely with such solid execution. Funny, just spooky enough, and terrific in every way. And very relatedly, I'm feeling peckish now.

Grounded by the life of Suzanne Valadon (someone we would today refer to as a "multi-hyphenate"), Syran's epic script transports us straight into the middle of Montmartre during the height of Impressionism. I literally feel more French after reading this play. Am I allowed to say that? You can smell the café pastries and coffee and hear the train stations from the page. Mostover, the interweaving story brushes us, just like Valadon, against giants of artists, delving deep into the oldest age questions: “Why do we paint?” “And what does the choice to make art demand of us?” Beautifully human.

A tender and unblinking short play of two women finding solace and love in one another whilst beset by the worst of humanity. Powerful, moving, and rich in character, this is just a powerhouse all-around.

Quite possibly of the wildest reveals I've ever read. I don't know what I expected, but it was not where Keel so deftly led me. To spoil any of the fine details would be ruining the magic, but rest assured this is a grand short play. Succinct in its brilliance, and deeply moving.

My third grade art teacher always called me Robert, mistaking me for someone else, which is not necessarily unlike what might be happening in some way for Nick. Williams’ play is a moving and deeply thoughtful exploration of grief and identity, legacy and intention, and so much more. The title is apt, as the themes interweave and blend with one another throughout the gorgeous dialogue and deftly paced revelations. What is art, really? Who are we? And why do we make commitments to either? The answer is beautifully simple.

We don't get to choose our kinks, but we do get to choose how we introduce them to our partners. And then fetishes become like any other facet of the relationship...are they something we'll lie about or force in order to stay in it? Donnelly uses a frank, sex-positive conversation between two women to explore the nuances of healthy communication (and more). We need more scenes like this in our theatrical canon, and any festival willing to "test their boundaries" will have a surefire audience hit.

Like water evaporating from the ground in the Alabama heat, this play rises steadily from the pages straight into your mind. McBurnette-Andronicos' worldbuilding is so strong and atmospheric that I had to literally check, then remind myself several times, that the characters depicted were not, in fact, real people. They feel SO real and full of history. An incredible descent into humanity's obsession with spectacle, violence, religion, sex, and everything in-between, I'm astonished by this play, and you will be too.