Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

Heyman's short is just absolutely wonderful. Not only is it a beautiful tale of a rekindling friendship, but a piece that dives into the effects of aggressions in the school system, and how those affected might cope. In the case of Yaoi manga, Heyman plays not just with the trope of "forbidden love," but pure love, unspoiled by real life. Healthy or unhealthy, the romanticization of romance is examined on both ends of the spectrum, and leaves us with a lot to think about.

Fun and thought-provoking, Swenson brings the laughs as its time for God to get fired, but then leaves us with some divine (forgive me) commentary on religion, worship, and belief, how they all intertwine, and how they change over time. It’s always lovely to see pieces that deal with faith in a way that doesn’t feel like propaganda, but it’s particularly lovely to see a piece that addresses religious extremism’s place in war, and how much of that extremism comes about from folks simply unwilling to keep an open mind.

Unfortunately more timely than ever, McShane thoughtfully dives into the question, "How dare we tell kids gay people exist?" The Mr. Rogers archetype is used to the hilt (also providing a huge amount of fun with puppets and set design), but tenderly raises questions not just about love (familial and of humanity), but how much the reasons we keep things from kids or teach them certain things has so much to do with ourselves instead of them. Sometimes for good, sometimes because we don't know what to say, and sometimes...well, sometimes because people fear anyone who's different. Lovely piece.

No one is safe. Pulling inspiration from "The Omen," "Rosemary's Baby," "The Exorcist," and every film in-between, Busser fills this fun Mother's Day piece with what is actually one of the greatest trope reversals I've ever seen. How has no one thought of this yet?! I dare not spoil it, but rest assured this short play is absolutely hilarious. Devilishly so. I cannot imagine any festival or production in which it does not bring down the house. It would be so much fun to act in this, or watch it. For now, reading must suffice.

As a Pisces with ADHD who loves coffee, I'm perhaps wired at a base level to adore this play. Tishk's "brain faffing" (real term, look it up) is remarkably written. I cannot overstate how excellently Sickles translates ADHD brain to the stage. He NAILS it. The thought cycles, the imagined scenarios and blurring of memories, the anxiety. I'm so excited to see the trajectory of this play, because it already feels timeless, looking forward, while back at the past at the same time, struggling to find peace in a terrifying now. Brilliantly structured, layered, and heart-wrenching. The Sea, indeed.

This play is bonkers. It is fucking wild and a goddamned delight. I will literally be digesting it (pun-intended, you'll get it) months from now. At one level, a fascinating, zany descent into PTSD and coping with trauma, at another, an eccentric marital comedy, and yet another, a horrifying saga of violence and daredevilry, there is so much here for actors, directors, and designers in equal measure. CSJ's skill is simply immense. I must see this staged. Until then, I shall be haunted (and entranced) by the image(s). Highly recommend.

Theatre should make us uncomfortable. Right? How uncomfortable? Emotionally? What about physically? Do we truly want plays that assault us? When (not if, when) the productions of Rafala's play come along, I'll suppose we'll finally know. To say "prepare your senses" is perhaps cliche, but it's difficult to put into words the daring deftness on display within. In these pages, we are bombarded with ethical quandaries, moral dilemmas, lights and sounds, all of which are meant to pierce our sanity. When they do, we don't have time to think. That is, of course, until we do. A horrific, frozen epic.

A tender, poignant, and affirming reminder that the only thing that just brutally sucks more than death is the regret of life wasted. What matters is grasping all of life that we can, and since we (rarely) know how much time we have, what a lament to not live in pursuit of wonder and kindness! Lovely little short to get anyone ruminating.

A fascinating character study of love, caution, recovery, and more. While the classic set-up provides the comedy we come for, Donnelly's play is also a sobering reminder, just because we've acknowledged our traumas and are working through them, doesn't mean we have any idea what we're doing. We're all doing our best. Sometimes that lines up with others in the same boat (or pool, or ocean), other times...not so much. Each character here is deeply drawn and lived in, and actors/directors would have a hell of a time diving into these roles.

Houston's world just sucks you in. There's a palpable sense of poetic dread seeping out of the set, through every line of dialogue. As we gradually realize the stakes of these young women's world, the metaphors hit, and hard. This is a beautiful play that I long to see staged, delving into and screaming at themes of abandonment, family, purpose, and more. And the visuals would be so chilling live. I'll be thinking about this one for a long time.