Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

What makes an anthology play truly special is seeing how each of the pieces intersect and complement one another. I won't spoil the sheer brilliance of how Dzubak's ending does this work, but rest assured that it DOES. It puts the entire evening into perspective, and simply lays out the groundwork that we all must acknowledge. Some people certainly perhaps deserve eternal punishment. But does everyone? Why? What's antiquated and what isn't? What's evil? What's desperation? What's hope? A lovely evening of theatre with plenty of roles to jump into.

Oh my god Emily. Oh my god Zach. What follows is both a hilarious comedy, and a small musing on decisions made in rage/breaking bad because goddammit the world is fucking bullshit and you deserve something for once. A surefire hit for any comedy lover, but because Cathro always provides, there is a storied history and some ethical debate to chew on underneath the bit. Beautiful, funny stuff.

A tasty short in which so much is said without need of any audible words. This would be such a delight to watch or perform and is so fun to envisage from the page. I enjoy the constant checking from both to ensure they are, in fact, alone, and that no one is watching. Plumridge weaves a whole relationship from these two without a moment wasted.

It is difficult to praise this play. Not because it fails to meet its marks, it's breathtaking and wrenching, as it should be. I mean the act of praising it is literally difficult when it's so easy to see how we get from today to the world depicted in Rose's chilling, deftly realized American future. Yes, this happens in any tyrannical state, but we all know what this one is. The masks are just so colorful.

My mother LOVES puzzles. My fiancee LOVES puzzles. My ADHD allows me to love puzzles for about 5 to 15 minutes. I have not the patience or willpower or strength to finish a 1000 piece puzzle, and doing it competitively in my old age against others would most definitely lead to my utter downfall. "997 Pieces" is hilarious, deceptively heartfelt, and a beautiful reminder of what happens to the things we love if we ever start to take them too seriously. The true winners here are the folks in the audience.

Succinct, haunting, and visually barren, Floyd-Priskorn's short play is a painful rumination on gun violence and suicide (intended or no). To say much more would work against the stark and surreal atmosphere created by the play and its dialogue, so I shall leave with this: "Read it. Then produce it."

I genuinely think I scraped through the "group project phase" of life without much PTSD, but Malone's play proceeded to unlock previously forgotten nightmares within the darkest depths of my soul. Thankfully, the play is an absolute hoot. Fun characters, SO MANY INVENTIVE POSSIBILITIES FOR STAGING, and a gradually unraveling web of personal chaos and ineptitude result in some perfect and wholesome cringe comedy for younger actors. I cannot describe how much I would have liked scenes like this to play with back then, because it's just pure merriment. Definitely check it out.

Camp Wonder IS wonderful! From the Orwellian setting to the absurdity of the education, Meagher's play drops its characters (and its audience) into a twisted and surreal school/jail for those who are straying from the flock. It is an exploration of individuality, obedience, resistance, and the connections we find when the world we know ceases to exist. So much fun potential for designers and actors here. I anticipate a plethora of moments could spawn unexpected guffaws in the best of ways. Delicious, layered work.

Norkin's play is a window into the absurdity. Yes. Truly this is the exact scenario white nationalists fear. It's a hoot that turns quite serious, resulting in an experience that is simultaneously hilarious and sobering, ridiculous and tender, but perhaps above all, hopeful. Maybe there is some way to get through. Because education and empathy reveal all. It's not a fear of replacement as it is their own demise or perceived place in the universe. Sooner or later, we will all be replaced. What truly matters is how we treat our fellow travelers along the way.

By the end of Osborne-Lee's magnificent play, we get the fullest glimpse of the complex, beautiful, and tragic web that is the Forest. It matters not what we do or where we hide in order to survive, if the people in charge do not truly care, if they wish us gone, anything is acceptable in the name of survival. And that means everything. Deftly drawn, this is a brilliant piece of fantasy/sci-fi to put on its feet.