Recommended by Nick Malakhow

In "Man of God," Anna Moench captures the kinetic energy of her characters with such a pitch perfect attention to voice and detail, I found it impossible to put this gripping, continuous conversation down. She uses dark humor and fantastical/horror elements to effectively juxtapose with the terrifying and wrenching truths she examines about sexual violence and the ways society pits women against one another. The camera is a clear but nuanced metaphor for the male gaze. I would so love to see this boldly theatrical, powerful, and darkly funny piece in production!

What a wonderful, tightly-written piece that explores the multi-pronged impacts of trauma that reverberate throughout one's life and relationships. I loved the framing of the piece with Alex's conversations with her therapist and the personal, theatrical monologues that punctuate her visits with each friend--the "what's going on inside/outside" dichotomy loads the scenes with weight and heft. Most importantly, Audrey illustrates just how different responses to a similar trauma can be and validates each and every response for all characters, which is helpful both for Alex's journey and for steering conversations about trauma towards healing and progress.

Absolutely hilarious, painful in its truths, and poignant in its focus on relationships and connection in our contemporary world. This is a spot on "I'd call it satirical, but maybe it's really just the total truth" examination of non profits and their intersections with morals/ethics/ideals, capitalism, and employee well being. The eclectic ensemble is populated by dynamically drawn individuals who you root for, and the ending has all of the realistic ambiguity one feels at the perpetuation of the problematic and toxic systems and structures at the heart of an ostensibly "good" organization.

A wrenching and exquisitely rendered look at the lasting, shattering, shared effects of trauma on a childhood and family interrupted by sexual violence. With its spare, lyrical dialogue, the story takes on sort of a parable-like quality, though the beautiful poetry of the words doesn't take away from the naturalness and gloriously human irregularity of the interactions and relationships. All of the characters are fascinating and rich (especially the haunting Willa), and the stage images and atmospheric details are startling and vivid.

A lyrical, unconventional piece that reads so beautifully on the page and makes me yearn to see a creative director, actor, and production team realize this onstage! I appreciated observing how these three journeys ran parallel to one another, as well as the dynamic moments they intersected. The dual portraits of queerness in Blue Eyes and Son also explores an important generational gap that examines both self hatred and possibility/hope in queer identity, and I appreciated the presence of that dichotomy. Gorgeously poetic!

I really love Berryman's use of fanfic here. It becomes a delightful extended metaphor for coming of age, emergent sexuality, and the journey young people undergo as they learn to understand and interpret the world around them. Tommie's family is rendered beautifully and revelations come at a steady and engaging clip. The friendship between Tommie and Pat is also real and messy and a joy to watch unfold.

A tightly-written and briskly-moving workplace dramedy whose straightforwardness contains nuance and complexity. Kras has written here a beautiful portrait of the evolving friendship between two young men that both explores how friendships change over time and also the ways that boys inherit/learn masculinity and gender expectations. You feel as if you definitely know both Ariel and Grayson and their issues and plights are familiar, but the complexity is in the shading and details of each character. Palpable yet subtle threads of mental health and discussions of consent emerge as well. Good piece for teens and adults alike!

A taut and economically written two-hander starring dynamic and exquisitely rendered individuals placed in a perfect, tense setup. A great deal of urgency drives this propulsive play and the hurricane (literal) is an always present and well-used extended metaphor for the human hurricanes within the house. The nuanced threads of family trauma and the realities of grappling with mental health and physical disabilities as adults are woven in so carefully. I'd love to see this compelling piece staged.

A super compelling theatrical world that I would love to see realized onstage by a dynamic group of actors/movers. There is also so much to be done here with design, direction, and movement--this would be a field day for a daring and adventurous theater company. The exploration of base instincts and the ways those things intersect with socially constructed identities is messy, complex, risky, and endlessly fascinating. This also manages to be darkly hilarious, while also full of pathos and sensuality. A highly original piece!

Beautiful and wrenching piece! I loved how microscopically focused we were on this one family while still holding space for much larger conversations about family vs found family, identity, transphobia and homophobia, and cyclical familial/other kinds of trauma. The dialogue is effortlessly real and human (with all its humor and pathos) and contrasts so wonderfully with the theatricality of the storm. The hurricane is a well-executed extended metaphor with an amazing payoff in the final moments. I'd be incredibly excited to see this realized onstage! I hope I get the chance to soon.