Recommended by Paul Donnelly

This is a really gripping piece of subtly building dread. A postpartum nightmare come to chilling life. The authentic bond between these parents makes the ultimate horror of their situation all the more devastating.

So much plays under the surface of the halting dialogue between A and B. Their inability to speak the plain truth and to address the issues before them is wittily rendered. The Dog's direct and violent response juxtaposes ironically with their verbal obfuscations. There is no place for the primal in A and B's world.

What once made 1 in 30 million painfully unique turns out to be the characteristic that saved their life. And made them a star even if they started from the wrong Hollywood. This is an original and funny tale, endearingly told.

Thanks to some 'shrooms, Davis is able to hear and converse with two very important trees. Trees with whom he shares a past. That past is full of good memories for Davis and a painful one for one of the trees. There is humor mined from the talking trees, but this play is ultimately a moving look at human responsibility to nature and at healing from grief.

What a lovely celebration of the mutability of identity and the connections that make a community. Individual identities expand, relationships end and begin, and yet the bonds among this family of choice endure. These are real young people dealing with real coming of age issues and emerging more whole. I was swept along, sometimes amused, and thoroughly engaged sharing their experience.

This Christmas Eve story offers a moving juxtaposition of faith and atheism in the gritty confines of a fox hole in the midst of the war in Ukraine. Both positions are presented honestly, with full recognition of their internal contradictions, and with surprising revelations on both sides. The soothing, healing effects of Christmas carols undergirds the real human connection between these men and illuminates their family histories.

From the first awkward beat to the final moment of authentic connection, this play is consistently engaging. Dad hides behind the menu, literally and figuratively, in a lunch meeting he initiated with his son. There is something touching, as well as very funny, as Dad descends into food metaphors rather than conversation. It takes the Son pulling him up short to break through his defenses and create that moment of authentic connection.

Travelling Light offers four charming vignettes of pairs strangers having life-altering encounters on a motor coach. Even the jolly coach driver has his own chance meeting. The characters are engaging and full of surprises and it was a pleasure to share their journey to Blackpool.

What a tender portrait of youthful friendship and its betrayal. Jack means Lucky no harm and yet the harm is done. Harm Lucky can't acknowledge. The predatory sitter is a disturbing, but entirely credible, presence. A lot of complex emotions are explored in this play's short run time.

Molly's desperate longing and heart-breaking denial are finely wrought. We stand by as engaged and as helpless as Ellie in our desire to see her pain eased. But we are left knowing and regretting that it can't be eased. This is a most compelling portrait of grief.