Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

"The Space Between Her Legs" is hilarious. Seriously. It is absolutely hysterical and inventive and everything that theatre can and should be. Sadly, it is also totally and completely plausible should the stars align to allow a vagina to send dudes into space. The satire here is biting and fierce, and watching Maybell's agency fall into question as the power of her vagina is discovered hits exactly the right note of uncomfortable and infuriating. Timely, weird, and audaciously brilliant, this is a play that should be done everywhere.

A slow-burning, twisting, poetic, and mischievous terror of a play that turns from a dinner party into a fascinating, existential nightmare. The partiers soon develop an increasing and distressing lack of familiarity with the script, but seem to realize the moments they are on and off it with equal measure. I'll spoil not where the play leads, but it's delightfully off-putting, raising questions of audience vs. art, voyeurism, and the very nature of storytelling itself. All involved would have a field day constructing this piece. It's quite a lovely comedy. There's also a dance at the end.

A hopeful, heartbreaking, and beautiful short play. Martin's premise is one that easily could veer into straight comedy or horror, but she bravely chooses to forego that temptation in favor of something far more human and universal, and it results in a breathtaking portrait of grief and the gift of having someone to talk to. Astounding work that should not be missed.

Shealy-Sachot gives us a deeply unsettling, almost dystopian, world that builds in dread. This team is clearly close. Very close. Too close? The descent into absurd horror is brilliantly executed and grounded in commentary on human nature, and we are left with the distinct feeling that not only have we watched something we were not meant to see, but will be forever be affected by. I'd love to see this on a stage.

SO MUCH PAPER!!! Martin’s short play is a celebration of writing, friendship, and friendships between writers, and how the latter specifically (and often) gives us that tiny, little nudge we need to defy the negative voices (be they in our heads or in our faces). Reading this play felt like literally injecting a smile into my veins. I can only imagine seeing it.

This love story may be somewhat unorthodox (most welcomely so), but it is no doubt love, in every sense of the word. And if you’ll pardon my cringe, I LOVE (in every meaning of the word) Cathro’s short play. With a construction to cause your actor and lighting designer to fight over who’s more excited to tackle the material, this play is lyrical, evocative, contagious, and deeply felt. Fantastic work.

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You know, Orwell outdid himself, because Sickles instills more smiling, kind terror in two pages than the entirety of any novel. This is horror at its finest, not only absolutely haunting, but entirely entirely possible.

With this lovely monologue, Speckman captures the beautiful complexity of how vast (or small?) our world truly is. The ways in which we are connected to each other are so much more than we might ever know, and as someone who also wrote a play about Matthew Weaver without having ever met the man, this piece is a tribute to the power of imagination he has instilled in so many, even before we have encountered his work. Bravo to both of these playwrights and humans.

To take the grandeur and glory and hope and comfort and innocence that is Taco Bell and condense it into a single character? A stroke of genius. Cross’s short play where a young girl encounters a perhaps guardian angel, perhaps kind wanderer, perhaps who-knows-what is funny and heartfelt, and 100% worth your attention. I need Trinity in my life to help me with this upcoming menu change.

With no hyperbole, I am blown away by what I can only identify as a piece sure to be realized in the coming years as one of the greatest American dramas of this era. This play is thunderous and immense, poetic and heartbreaking, tender and raucous, and is as dense as the ocean with meaning. Sickles’ alternate timeline is masterfully executed, feeling both all too real and all too possible, and wraps a delicate story of loss, pain, need, and hope into the relationship forged in words (said and unspoken) and wonder by two young boys. HIGHLY RECOMMEND.