Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

To an extent, it's all our fantasy. "What if your character(s) leapt off the page and into real life?" Be careful what you wish for. Heyman's play doesn't go where you think it might. The characters of Schiftan's novel find themselves in our world, but find themselves confronted with very our world problems, as an existential exploration into the very heart of storytelling commences. What are stories, really? Who deserves to tell them? Are they solely ours? Perhaps most crucially, why do we write them? It's a nuanced, fascinating adventure, one that would be marvelous to see in action.

The Holocaust remains an example of some of the darkest, purest evils of which humanity is capable. We learn about it as children (at least, I don't think Republicans have eradicated that from the curriculum), but there's an element of aging that disconnects us from the horrors. That's why we tell stories. To remember. Lest we repeat it. "Mere Waters" is a staggering play, and a celebration and struggle of life, amidst so much cruelty and death. I had no idea Dr. Perl existed. Now that I do, it means everything. A call to action from the past. Magnificent work.

Fairly often, recommendations on this site will include some variation of the phrase, "I'd love to see this onstage." Well...Scott Sickles has achieved the impossible. He has crafted a terrifying, all-too-plausible epic that I do not want to see onstage, simply because I don't know if I could handle it. For that reason, it absolutely should be staged. "Tesseract" is riveting, disturbing, enraging, crippling, it's just...it's a nightmare. Brought to life. It crackles with dark energy. And I will never not be haunted by it.

"The Alley" is an unrelenting, deeply indicting behemoth. A (rare) well-intentioned inquiry from an employer to employee turns into something wholly unexpected, that plumbs into the darkest depths of human behavior and tendency. It's an immensely powerful piece, and so brilliantly restrained in its simplicity. I'm throwing all these fancy words out here because what I really am is speechless. I really can't say anything about this play that the play doesn't say better and clearer itself. So stop reading this rec and read the play instead. It's unfortunately timely, and timeless at the same time.

Mary Shelley is dead. Or is she? Perhaps Aly Kantor has robbed her grave and stolen her essence through completely legitimate means. How else can she have crafted and tinkered into life this dark (and genuinely gut-busting), little dead body horror? Or is it a deal she's etched out with one of the old gods? An eldritch, looming cosmic entity skilled in the art of playwriting? My theory? It just comes naturally. She is that god herself. And "Come Back Right" is yet another small piece of her brilliance. Perfection.

On the surface, Merl's tale is one of perseverance in the face of adversity. But if we clean up a layer of mayo and look deeper, we can find more. Just because a person holds rigid beliefs they assert are righteous and right, doesn't make them so. And if those beliefs are demeaning and mean-spirited, it really just makes them a dick. And nobody likes people who are dicks. They're dicks, and if anybody should be making room for better people, it's people who are dicks. This irreverent, pro-kindness short is hilarious and wise in equal measure.

Immortality is one of sci-fi's greatest thought experiments. Is living forever a curse? A blessing? Dring's play explodes that experiment by condensing our focus down to two partners in a budding relationship having to confront these very questions, as they find themselves in a world about to dramatically change. It's a fantastic, thought-provoking piece, and the world-building perfectly compliments the romantic dramedy at hand. Quite literally, this is a poem for the ages.

I don't like sand. It's coarse. Rough and irritating. You know how it goes. What I do love is this play. LIKE sand, it should get everywhere. Zubel's script is absolutely gobsmacking, insightfully and absurdly shining bright, bright light on alcoholism and sober life. To say much more would spoil the beauty of its shifts and movements, but rest assured that a full company would have a powerful, enthralling time creating the imagery here. God, how I would love to see this live.

There's a growing trend of far too many of us fighting in the name of willful ignorance. In Moran's excellent, brisk, and deftly constructed play, it's of the realities of climate change (as well as our culpability in its cause). In life, it could be of anything. But some of us, crucially, know what we're doing, and others do not. What we do and the choices we make when confronted with the truth will define more than just our character, but our future. More eyes need to be on this play. Read it. Then produce it.

This is one of the best ten minute plays I've ever read. It's astonishing. It is a firecracker of a play, pulsing with energy like a strike of...well. Elbaz depicts a heartrenderingly real scene, where the insidiousness of racism creeps in almost casually, innocently(?)...until finally destabilizing Rida and Isaac's lives together in a matter of instants. An uncomfortable, laser-focused exploration of honoring legacy vs. ourselves and our partners, and what that even means. And perhaps most of all, that there is no middle ground in that choice. Fantastic piece that would steal any festival.