Recommended by Nick Malakhow

In centering these five characters, Mejia explores social expectations, body image, and confidence in one's own identity (both in the gay male community and world at large). I appreciated the direct and difficult conversations the characters had and the unexpected turns in Amy's character that subverted expectations (though her final "last laugh" at the mess she was escaping was certainly satisfying). I also appreciated CJ's hang ups centered around preconceptions and social expectations of bisexuality. The dialogue flowed at a steady, easy clip, making this a good piece for folks looking for a queer comedy to read.

The theatrical, slightly heightened language and moments that veer away from straight realism amplify the conflict and exploration of buried secrets, identity, family conflict, and destructive masculinity. I loved how this managed to both examine those themes with seriousness and mine humor from that heightened, sometimes comedic space (any time the stoned Vicki made her way through the scene was an absolute highlight). The sizeable ensemble was composed of wonderful roles that any actor would enjoy sinking their teeth into. I'd love to see this realized onstage.

This lovely piece begins as a clever and warm hearted comedy about relationships with threads of speculative fiction subtly and finely woven through the text. The world building is great! It surprised me by becoming a much more poignant and nuanced exploration of modern relationships and intimacy, marriage, queer love, and eternally relevant questions about what it means to love someone "enough" to commit your life to them...and what that commitment entails. I was laughing at the beginning, thoroughly enjoying the normality of queerness throughout, and full-on crying at the end. I'd love to see this produced!

I love how this piece functions on two levels--one, as a juicy piece of historical fiction and two, as an exploration of the ways social expectations around masculinity impede, suppress, and destroy the ability for folks (of course, men in particular) from living their truths. Grant captures a slightly heightened sense of speech, which helps establish time, place, and character, without veering into a tropey stereotypes. The queer tension and romance was palpable throughout, and the small, seismic revelations were satisfying.

A supremely theatrical and engrossing piece that examines several well-rendered and diverse characters. Valdes looks at race and identity, and particularly racism within various intersections of the Latine/x community, the evolving relationships we have with our families, and how race, identity, and family are tied to our conception of home. The socio-political backdrop is threaded throughout in a powerful way, and the drag show, "Ceci Slays" punctuated and shaped the rhythm of the piece. Yanni and Angel's relationships with their parents are elegantly paralleled. I'd love to see this bold and eclectic theatrical universe brought to life!

What a nuanced and compassionate piece that examines masculinity, identity, the loneliness that can be associated with being a gay man, and complex family dynamics. Darby and Glen are such rich characters and their relationship is rendered beautifully here--what they get from one another feels real, organic, and poignant. The theatricality Brumley uses to tell this story is also thrilling, with the malleability of time/space, the balancing of spare lyricism with humorously observed naturalism, and lots of room for exciting and creative staging and movement work. I'd love to see a full production of this!

A lovely piece about the complexities of family. I especially loved how in this narrative we were presented with an ostensibly liberal and accepting family whose relationships and equilibrium were challenge by Pilar and Bird's unconscious and (and semi-conscious and conscious) biases. An important reminder that left-leaning politics don't make someone immune from the toxic forces that threaten marginalized communities and identities. Every single person in this piece was a nuanced and fully rendered human, and they kept my sympathy even as they bristled against and challenged one another. Beautiful, funny, poignant, theatrical.

An exquisite, lyrical play that makes excellent use of its original, sophisticated metaphors to explore gender, toxic masculinity, and the ways old social philosophies and practices and customs need to be reevaluated, exploded, and/or evolved. The speculative world is super compelling and evocatively painted through dialogue--I'm amazed at Nelson's ability to conjure such a sense of place and atmosphere through dialogue and carefully-chosen scenes. There is also SO MUCH to play here from a design standpoint. I'm eager to follow this play's trajectory and to hopefully see some of its bold stage images in person soon!

This certainly stands on its own outside of the "Lord of the Flies" context, but it's exciting to read in the context of the work. I love how it goes further in examining generational legacies and the persistent lasting impact of toxic social constructions of masculinity, and how those id-like impulses live within people and emerge in "normal society." I especially appreciated how it began in an unassuming fashion before slowly layering in a well-timed series of offbeat and disturbing moments, leading up to its startling ending sequence.

I loved the darkly comedic and unsettling use of horror tropes here to explore the dissolution of relationships, the ways we struggle to be honest with one another in relationships, and how we try and cling to relationships that need to be dissolved. The escalation into dark satire is effective and hilarious. I also appreciated the centering of queer characters and relationships in a way that acknowledged queerness and what that brought to Gerald and Louis' relationship without pathologizing it--that they were the norm in this world, and their queerness was simply part of their identities.