Recommended by Nick Malakhow

A highly theatrical and original examination of the ways alcoholism destroys families. Pipes gives us four extremely interesting and multi-dimensional characters and completely succeeds in taking the oft-used concept of the alcoholic patriarch and turning it on its head by making him so vulnerable, by plumbing his quietness for truth, and by avoiding the cliche of violent, toxic man. On the contrary, the Man's insidious, nuanced implosion feels more tragic than a louder and more bombastic story would've. Potent family drama coexists with fantastical, amazing images that I would absolutely love to see staged. Wrenching, important, beautiful.

An amazingly theatrical, epic, always hilarious, and oftentimes touching coming of age/character study. This story so beautifully and specifically renders the struggles and complexities that Adam faces living at the particular identity intersection of race, faith, and sexuality he lives at. I also found the themes so potently relevant to other contexts--internalized shame and racism within the gay community, loneliness and alienation, a yearning for connection, and the intersection of sex and/or contact with all of those things. Daniel K. Isaac fully embraces the urgency, immediacy, and heightened world of live theater--how I'd love to see this performed!

An exquisite piece that is compelling and funny. Espinoza does a magnificent job of exploring structural racism and inequality in academia, scholarship, and anthropology. Nessa and Mac are two powerful central characters who push one another in a propulsive fashion. The multiplicity black identity represented and the way the tensions and realities of interacting with the world at large and the microcosm of academia as a black person are portrayed are nuanced and thorough (Herm and Nessa; Nessa and Mac; Jaylene, Nessa, and Mac). The presence of Homer is both sublime, lyrical, and funny. Produce this!

Malone leaves no stone unturned in his examination of Alby. I love the insight we get past the sometimes-blustery and often-nomadic exterior of Alby to see someone struggling with internalized anxieties, troubles, isolation, and loneliness--a helpful reminder that a storm of complexity surges beneath us all, and that cultivating and nurturing relationships is a messy, complicated, and ongoing process. The monologic format both allows us to really dig into Alby's psyche, while also really fleshing out Natalie and Seth in a way that a more scene-oriented structure wouldn't necessarily allow. The dialogue is honest, raw, and lyrical.

I loved the way that McShane wove these two timelines together with subtle but effective theatricality in transitions. The thematic connections between Faber's journey and Allison's are complex and nuanced as well--what happens when you don't live up to what is expected of you, the loneliness, isolation, and alienation that comes with that burden, mental health and well-being. The double-casting outlined in the script helps to underscore and comment upon the intriguing commonalities between the two narratives. The scenes move briskly and progress to a well-earned and poignant climax for both Allison and Faber.

What an awesomely atmospheric and unsettling piece. I especially enjoyed how this worked on multiple levels. It succeeds as a dramatic exploration of grief and bereavement, caretaking, and mental health struggles. It also succeeds mightily as a thrilling horror play, and there are too few quality entries to this genre that focus on eerie, suspenseful tension, unsettling pacing and rhythm, and subtle but potent reveals. "Bunyip" has those all and then some. It would also make for a fun design challenge, engaging set, lights, and sound in creative and horror-heightening ways.

A brilliant theatrical poem with unforgettable images, motifs, and sequences. Each vignette told a bold and engaging story even if just taken at face value, while also communicating with striking, sophisticated, but crystal clear metaphors about the legacies and traumas of slavery and white supremacy, and their connection to the cyclical and ongoing oppression of black people in America. Wardally's use of multiple bodies to illustrate internalized conflict and trauma was fantastic too. This feels impeccably structured, yet also like a beautiful, multi-faceted blueprint for a creative production team. Essential poetry and drama that all should experience.

This gorgeous play so beautifully straddles the lines between hilarity and heartbreak; bold theatricality and microscopic subtlety. The mosaic of scenes progress at engaging, irregular rhythms, and small moments of humanity are punctuated with movements/scenes that beg for brash staging and movement. Daniel K. Isaac weaves the characters' identities so thoroughly and meticulously throughout the fabric of this piece, and to see this collection of people have such a finely-rendered and universally potent story (friendship, coming of age, identity formation, nostalgia, family) makes my heart sing. It is also *hilarious* and made me cry more than once. Beautiful!

I love this play! I love that it is hilarious, human, and poignant in alternating turns. I love the supremely distinct, complex characters. I love Abby's journey and the straightforward and provocative conversations she has with the adults in her life. I love the fever pitch at the end of the first act, and then the contemplative tempo shift that provokes a deeper understanding of Tanya and Tom as we journey back in time. Dawes examines a lot that resonates with my upbringing and search for identity as a multi-racial teen, and I'm grateful to see it represented.

Hilarious, theatrical, and unique, this piece explores universal themes (parenthood, passing on one's legacy, and making meaning in life) while truly honoring the specific intersectional identities of its characters. I loved the theatricality of the use of direct address, liminal space, and casting supporting roles from within the ensemble. The briskly-moving scenes also had a beautiful rhythm and an organic and hilarious sense of humor. Young wisely focused on a couple of very potent moments as the central dramatic action. The ending was satisfying, hopeful, and felt as if the characters had done heavy lifting and soul searching throughout.