Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

I love getting to the final page and knowing I'm still going to be thinking about the play weeks from now. On the surface, this is a story of the judgment of a man's actions (well... his last four), but underneath, it demands questions of purpose, faith, and the very meaning and nature of art itself. Marchant's writing (per the course) is stuffed with a casual gravitas, weighing the mundane and kooky with immense stakes, and it's infectious. It's a fascinating piece of theatre I will most certainly keep my eye on.

I caught a reading of this the other night and was floored by the immensity of York's achievement. Suddenly finding that your life has a much earlier than expected end date throws everything into anguished questioning, and it is extremely difficult to balance genuine comedy amongst these heavy, life-altering thematic issues. But York does it, at the same time legitimately reminding us of the true power and magic of DND. Building a world with friends and loved ones, building memories, even ones we may never get to see, they still mean everything. And every second is worth it.

Your suffering doesn’t invalidate my suffering. And suffering can take many forms. Cathro masterfully explodes the idea of betrayal, and whether one kind is “worse” than another. What almost matters more is the feeling it leaves us with than the action itself, and that’s a much more complex, grey area. Beautifully done, with some fantastic monologue material as well, this play leaves us with a catharsis, but not necessarily a peace. Quite brilliant.

You plan it for weeks. Months. Maybe even years. And when the time comes, a single schmuck ruins everything by giving a slice of cake to the wrong person. It’s pretty ingenious cringe, and Zaffarano’s play is a delightful, twist-filled burst of chaos. I won’t spoil the amazing ending (suffice it to say that it is most certainly the best outcome of such a situation), but I will spoil that the comedy here is absolutely glorious and worth your time.

So much dread! The best part of Plummer's short comedy is that while it goes exactly where we think it's going to go (with a title like "Lunch," how could you not prepare for the worst?), it also doesn't. It still surprises. There's a delightful, dare I say gentle evil at play here, and it's a treat (pun intended) to watch the two hapless adults take longer and longer to put together the inevitable. Let's remember to stay on our guard once we can finally re-enter the world.

Poor Death! They're just trying to help. Unfortunately for Julian (so fortunately for us), Death has an uncanny ability for causing...well, you know...and when it stretches to people who aren't exactly dangerous enemies, it results in some hilarious physical comedy. The repetition here is some choice buffoonery, and it is glorious.

Muise’s play is a whisper. Hushed, quiet, possibly taboo? Like Danielle and Matt, we are not quite sure exactly what just happened between them, but we all know we’ve been changed by it. Only how remains to be seen, something Muise deftly leaves to our imaginations. It has been a while since I have encountered a piece with such beautiful silence, much less in so short a time. This is a truly excellent play.

An absolutely hysterical, dry romp through food puns and sexual innuendo galore, you should come for the laughs, but stay for the surprisingly honest and open communication. How many relationships would have been saved if they had simply communicated as well as PB and Jelly? This is a healthy ten minute in more ways than one, and definitely would be a hoot at any short festival.

God, Speckman’s world would be so much FUN to stage! Not only is it commanding and powerful, it is filled with the kind of striking pictures and images we are sorely feeling the loss of in these pandemic times. “Clyt” takes us through an impassioned character study of simple honesty, women can be jealous. Angry. They can seek vengeance. Natural human emotions are allowed to everyone, so why have past tellings of the story demonized her so? This is a brave, explorative, and rich examination of the myth, and it is a play you need to know about.

I'll never eat a lollipop again without thinking of this. There's a whimsical, but dark effervescence in DeFrates' world, and the relationship between Polly and Lucy (...and Sandy) is as fascinating to watch unfold as it is creepy. I love when horror plays give us just the right amount of world-building to let our imaginations do the heavy lifting, and we leave knowing there's a world out there that is...let's say less than pleasant to be wrapped up in. Add in the most unique (and troubling) opinion about the afterlife, and you've got a stellar little short.