Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

A fantabulous, explosive, musical musing on the symbiotic relationship between artists and audience. Martin’s play scratches so many itches in a such a short amount of time, and will surely be a hit anywhere it is performed. Audience participation is something we often dread, but rest assured, thanks to Martin’s deft hands, we should definitely embrace it. Highly recommend.

Hot damn. A play that reminds us that despite our society’s more recent romanticization of the pirate’s life, it has a brutal side that definitely isn’t pretty, especially for the folks who find themselves unlucky enough to be thrust into it. Some embrace it to survive above everything, some embrace it for vengeance, still others for righteousness. Gill’s world-building is masterfully composed and frighteningly plausible, and it is a treat to see the gray of these swashbucklers as opposed to the normal songs about the sea being “freedom.” There’s more here. Check it out.

Should we discover the means, I would love nothing more than to condense this play into liquid form and inject it directly into my veins. Goldman-Sherman has crafted a mythic explosion that is enchanting and visually-striking, creepy and keening, rooted in survival and the stretch of the patriarchy even after the world’s end. The playground of a setting lifts inspiration from Beckett’s tramps, but blessedly gives women the spotlight for once, locked in a struggle for freedom and safety. A staggering piece of work that 100 words does not give me enough space to sing its brilliance. Highly recommend.

Yowza. If you think your family doesn’t communicate well, Levine provides a worst case scenario and guarantee you may not have it that bad. His dialogue pushes forward with a nigh absurd whimsicality that defies logic and just keeps getting better and better. Leah and Ethan may not be getting their point across, but good God, it’s hilarious to watch them try. Lovely short for any comedy festival.

What is justice? Who deserves grace? What do we do with evil and how do we recognize it? Kaminski thoughtfully pokes and prods at the endless questions (and perspectives) of capital punishment over the course of a single evening as a group of survivors await the impending execution of a serial killer. The play pulls no punches and strikes a reflective tone full of quiet, subdued tension as each individuals’ feelings come to light and morph as the time goes by. This is a delightful character study into which actors, directors, and audiences could take a deep dive.

I adore comedy grounded in "mostly realism." Something contemporary with the BIGGEST BALLS that, every so often, takes that quick left turn into complete absurdity with the utmost sincerity. It never fails to provide fun, raucous, pointed hilarity, and Cho provides it in spades. She also provides a scathing indictment of the entertainment industry for literally ruining society and warping our minds, wrapping everything in a story of what it really means to be an Asian-American woman in your 20s. This is a fantastic piece of theatre that you should know about.

First of all, a superhero whose powers depend entirely up to whether she's having a good day/week/month? Comedy gold. Second, the way Dickens’ artfully and subtly reveals her story’s hand is brilliant. A fun two-hander about loving your partner despite (even because of) their flaws, as well as the importance of accepting sadness’ role in life, it deserves your attention. Also, superheroes means designers get to have a field day too!

Whoever this minister is, they’re an irreverent delight to listen to as they humorously struggle to pitch themselves up the ladder of church duties. The only thing better than someone putting their foot in their mouth is watching them realize they have. Several times. Give them credit for their perseverance, then just give ‘em the job. Like they’ve said, they’ve paid their dues.

A moving, elegant portrait of an American family during the Vietnam era that cuts right to the heart of timeless human struggles. How war irrevocably changes us, what we’re willing to sacrifice for our purpose in the world, what family and home is and means, Williams’ tackles these colossal beasts with the delicate and deft touch of a painter, rendering a beautiful, meditative script that is profound as it is heartfelt. Simple, real, and fluid, it is a piece that hearkens back to the past (of the country and theatre), but grounds itself in a now that is inescapable.

A succinct, poignant gut-punch. To spoil the genius simplicity of Malone’s play would be a crime, so I must resort to only saying, “read this play.” Read it. Produce it. It is abundant with layered observations about this particular moment in time, but also all the moments that came before. It is a tremendous feat in just ten minutes. When we’re back on the stage in this country, this piece will have long life. And it will be deserved. Highly recommend.