Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

I write a lot of pee jokes. Like, far too many of my plays have piss in them. It's not a sexual thing. Piss is funny. Some people like poop humor. My fiancée loves it when characters suddenly vomit. We all have our favorite bodily functions.

I have to say these things to avoid giving anything away about Urrutia's play. I want so much to talk about it, but I cannot spoil what is irrevocably the greatest play with piss in it I have ever encountered. I wish I had written it. Unrelatedly, I have to go the bathroom.

On the surface, Proctor’s ten minute is a sketch (and a fucking hilarious one at that). But shave some layers of rock down and we can discern another level of musing, “with enough time, everything fades.” Are the gods and worries and concerns of today going to exist hundreds of years from now? Thousands? Decades? A fun, irreverent reminder to make the most of the time we have, and that thankfully, we are all at least better off than Sisyphus.

Powles takes what could be a trite scene of gangster money negotiation and gives it surprising, welcome depth. Not only is this short spectacularly fresh, it strikes in its own way at the classic heart of noir and mafia stories, the parts of the business we do for our loved ones' protection and benefit…versus the alluring promises of what money can bring. This would be so much fun, to both portray and see.

A CSJ play is pure surreal poetry. Every time, I know I’m in for a treat, and MOSQUITO COMMISSION provides with fun imagery and delightful language in spades. Dating is hard, love is harder, and maybe we’re actually monsters for the things we do to other humans. I mean, lobsters, sorry. Whoops.

Make no misassumptions, putting this play on its feet would be an undertaking, but god how powerful it would be! A full crowd, filled with people of all kinds, backgrounds, and morals, perhaps bigger than the audience itself? I can only imagine the stage imagery a team ready for the challenge would create. Weaver's dialogue is consistently powerful, but the true achievement here is the brilliance of having us watch the watchers, at once distancing the audience from the events, and pulling them ever closer. Man has done such grand and terrible things. This is one of them. Highly recommend.

Standing tall amongst the finest episodes of The Twilight Zone and Black Mirror, "Is Anyone Watching This?" is absolutely nightmarish, and that's just scratching the surface. Submerge yourselves, and you'll encounter explorations of voyeurism, internet fame, private vs. public personas, social media addiction, depression, isolation, so so much. This is a genius premise, and (ironically) watching Gabby's descent is delightfully maddening. Watching this live would be an absolute mindfuck in the best of ways. Holy cow this is great.

Well, I suppose it does stand to reason that "affluenza" children are just as fucked up as the rest of us (if not more so). Where Hilder's play shines is when the absurd and ridiculous (let's call them antics, to avoid too much unpacking) of Stef and Oyster strike hard at the core truth of growing up and the human experience, "despite desperately wanting to, none of us ever have any idea what we're doing." Absolutely hilarious, taboo, and delightfully staged, this is a genre-bending hoot that will stay with you. One of the best last lines I've ever seen.

A script like this excites on every level. For the actor, the opportunity to finally be part of an ensemble that makes some scares happen. For the director, the opportunity of mounting the most amazing puzzle of moving parts. For the designer...well, the opportunity of a lifetime. Kendall's tight, terrifying script is a shining and roaring example of the possibilities that lie in theatrical horror. It is not only entirely possible in the right hands, but masterfully spooky, filled with characters that we care about. A terrific achievement. Bring the fucking popcorn.

If you keep experiencing the same issue with dating, at a certain point it's not a bad idea to ask, "am I the problem?" The thing is, is what is Olive's problem? What is it really? That, I won't spoil. But know it's exuberantly weird and just splendid. A hilarious dark comedy that will leave you reeling.

"Not all men." Certainly. "But somehow, ALWAYS a man."

The phrase comes to mind.

Blevins is always top notch, but she has outdone herself here. This play is pure fire, retelling, remixing, and bringing out new points of view on classic myths. Medusa, in particular, has undergone a radical transformation in recent years, but the exploration done here is perhaps the greatest I've encountered. This is a gorgeous study of agency, identity, and what it truly feels like to be objectified and transformed into something you never wanted to be. Something women unfortunately still encounter every goddamn day.