Recommended by Nick Malakhow

I loved the balance of lyricism, naturalism, and expressionistic movement in this piece. Roa utilized those disparate theatrical sensibilities to make a cohesive, aesthetic whole. Their exploration of the intersection between disenfranchisement, homelessness, gender, mental illness, and many other overlapping themes felt gloriously human. The three women at the center of the story were all distinct and extremely vivid characters, and the outside-inside dichotomy that emerged through the figurative moments was poignant and illuminating. I'd love to see this world come alive onstage!

I loved the world-building here. Prillaman does an excellent job of "showing vs. telling," avoiding the trap of veering into exposition in three tightly-written scenes. The characters are compelling, and I loved the subtle and complex ways gender and identity were explored as we watched them navigate questions of leadership, faith, and morality. From a design and production team standpoint, there is a lot of opportunity here as well for lighting, sound, and set designers, as well as fight choreographers. The balance of horror, intrigue, and fantasy made for a uniquely theatrical play--I look forward to following its trajectory.

This is such a beautifully-rendered examination of four individuals and their relationships to friends, sisters, and (absent) parents. The aching longing for connection is palpable and creates the beautiful tension that sustains the compelling story, and I loved how this piece demonstrated small seismic shifts in relationships rather than relying on overly theatrical or contrived dramatics. Birdie is definitely a compelling focal point for the piece, but the other three characters are just as richly-rendered and have satisfying arcs. I love how identity, queerness, and friendship is explored and that romance isn't depicted as the magic bullet. Gorgeous work!

This piece is a potent, genre-bending play that balances satire, hilarity, horror, and socio-political commentary. Rebecca is satirically villainous and her slow descent into madness is a creepily rendered examination of gentrification and white privilege. The haunting stage images and visual trickery would be an awesome and exciting challenge for a creative production team. The ending is unsettling and inevitable and satisfying.

An unsettling and compelling piece that explores one family's experiences in the context of the terrifying new reality of queer men being rounded up and held in camps in Chechnya. The characters are vividly rendered and each has such a distinct voice. Despite the dramatic stakes and tension, I also appreciated the human humor scattered throughout. Seeing each family member grapple with their fears and anxieties about Valid's fate fill out a complex portrait of the intersection between the personal and the political.

I wholeheartedly enjoyed this satire and subversion of 90s teen sitcoms. St. Croix examines the tropes of the genre and reveals the troublesome dynamics and toxic archetypes that we took as "normal" when these shows were on air. The beautifully theatrical conceit of only having two bodies of color onstage telling both their stories and inhabiting other (white!) characters also helps reiterate and explode the lens through which these sitcoms were originally told. Funny, theatrical, and inventive!

An exquisite play that examines family trauma, mother-daughter relationships, loneliness, mental health, and the intersection of those things with race and gender. Lanny/Langree/Tabitha's relationship with her Blackness and self image, and how that is inextricably tied with the self image of her mother is so potently explored here. The separation of Lanny into three parts (and how those parts interact) is a brilliant device to heighten the sense that, as we grow, we both try to leave behind who we were and wish for a peek into the unknowable future to confirm that we make it through.

A spectacular piece that balances hilarity, politics, and heartbreak and addresses the relationship between non-Black POC and the BLM movement and anti-Black racism. Wilkins provides four distinct, layered characters with impeccably written voices. The shifts in alliances, character evolution, and the eventual climax and resolution of the play are all realistic and compelling. Abstract movement pieces punctuate the play at exciting rhythms. Finally, Wilkins explores masculine identity and its intersection with sports and race, speaking to demographics that don't necessarily see themselves as "theater audiences," and I hope this play is produced frequently to subvert that expectation.

A briskly-moving and compelling piece that is equal parts hilarious, disturbing, and wrenching. Peercy renders here an unsettling, toxic relationship between four friends that examines their loneliness and alienation, struggles with mental health, and disconnect from society, joy, and other human beings. The collegiate setting is perfect--these characters' struggles with their identities and relationships really illustrate that troubling coming-of-adult-age moment when one needs to come to terms with their responsibility and relationship to their own mental and emotional wellbeing. I was impressed at how these characters, who do and say some highly troubling things, remain multi-dimensional and sympathetically-drawn.

A beautiful, poignant solo show that blends family and social history. Dawkins wisely chooses to focus on a small but colorful ensemble of characters, delving into each of their voices with humor, flair, and nuance. This is a very moving portrait of grief, but one that never dwells too long in despair; rather it chronicles the irregular and human reactions to death in an exquisite manner! Though this is a very specific story about a single family, I love the way Dawkins explores the way family values echo the socio-cultural moment in which a family exists.