Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

Good god, the first line. The last line!! I can say nothing. I will spoil nothing. All I will further say is that I am stealing this for auditions. Thank you, Viraj. I sincerely hope this is not based on a true story, but let's be real, we've all seen weirder things on the internet.

While the Sacred Order of Bloody Steel has elected to separate itself from society, Weeks' play is infused with an elegant, grinning whimsicality. From over-the-top declarations of passion to moving depictions of love (punctuated by the clash of swords), the ensemble cast raises a healthy pile of ethical quandaries, asking not only what things (or people) should we use our limited time above ground to pursue, but how best to do so when those closest to us disagree. Any cast and audience will get sucked into this lovely world.

Delightful, hilarious, and remarkably honest, Solomonson brings to light the surprising number of difficulties engaged couples must overcome when changing their names. Is Cary being too paranoid? Or are his observations scarily accurate? Any short festival (and its audience) would have a blast with this one, as long as everybody gets their immature giggles out of the way first.

Sometimes, I can write a recommendation right after finishing a play. Other times, I have to fully digest it, let it simmer with me. "All Hallows Eve" is a confounding, darkly tongue-in-cheek play that dares you to forget about it, because the second you do, it'll strike. There's an absurd lilt to the dialogue and world, even the characters' moods. Putting together the puzzle is fun, disturbing, and much like the smoke from the cigarettes, lingers with you (and around you) long after the flame is out.

To go too into detail on the brilliance of Feeny-Williams' horror short would be to give it away. Rest assured, however, that it treats us (and leaves us) with the lessons of any classic story with an old, mysterious mirror: don't take for granted what you have, and be careful what you wish for. A great treat for some younger actors to really let loose and play, this is a piece that would be a hit at any spooky festival. Definitely check it out.

With delightful silliness and cigarettes aplomb, Plumridge's short play provides a disturbingly accurate peek into what I'm sure is everyone's process. How much do our characters help when we're up against those deadlines? Not at all, really. Like, not at all. Upon consultation, they make things so much worse. And yet, every once in a while, it feels like they have a brilliance in them even we didn't conceive. Sometimes, they come up with the twists or endings all by themselves, and that's where the charisma is. The pure magic of creation. Lovely work.

Thank "God" for Aly Kantor, because now when talking about what makes an excellent zoom play, I can just point to "Fish Tank." The use of the medium/given circumstances for the format aren't just brilliantly executed, they work hand in hand with the world-building, deftly instructing us on the rules of the universe, while leaving just enough for our imaginations to also do some leg work. In between, some killer dialogue musing on everything from immortality, human nature, to Orwellian surveillance? You may not have as much time on your hands as Maddy, but find some to read this.

We experience growth every day, but there are weightier moments, moments we can point to, where the things we encounter instill a resolve in us. These tests remind us not only of the people we are, but the people we hope to be. "A Good Year" is an unflinching example of what remaining true to your morals (whatever they may be) can cost. Money, friendship, dreams, in some cases...everything. But that resolve is something that never goes away. And that matters. Williams has a powerhouse piece of writing on his hands, and I eagerly await where it may go.

A beautifully realized portrait of Victorian England, Cross' play is a touching scene of familial love and loss, and how much the rest of the world gets in the way. Eerily reminiscent of the workplace struggles so many of us face today, it's a treat to watch the argument between the sisters slowly peel away their history. How far have we come? And how far haven't we?

We give gifts on Christmas to spread joy and put more kindness into the world. And while Helen's gift is remarkably unorthodox in every way, if it gives her joy, what's the harm? Who is it hurting? What about General's? Cathro's remarkable Christmas story gives us so much food for thought on the nature of humanity, memory, closure, and more. A powerful, brilliant reminder how many memories and experiences (good and bad) that our bars or the places close to us hold. When all that history is suddenly gone, or different, what do we do now?