Recommended by Nick Malakhow

An exquisite and beautiful play that explores grief in a nuanced and uniquely theatrical way. Every character rings with truth and humanity. Bethea's extremely complex relationships with Gideon and Myles (and her grief) in the aftermath of Myles' death feel so multi-dimensional and beautifully realized. I love how Rivers tells this story in nuanced scenes that avoid melodramatics. The culminating explosive moments feel earned and well worth waiting for. The spectre of Myles haunts the Solomon family but not in a gimmicky or overwrought way. The ending stage picture--as well as many before it--is sublime!

A beautiful, haunting, gorgeous play! The central four young people in this play are so deftly rendered. It's so rare to have such complex roles for young people in a vividly-realized theatrical world that would great theater for audiences of all ages and types. The specificity of the relationships and the amazing stage pictures and fantastical elements give this both an epic/mythic feel with an intimate focus. I'd love to see this world realized onstage. It's a director, designer, and actor's dream. I look forward to following its trajectory.

This lyrical play is a wrenchingly beautiful theatrical fable. The stage pictures, spare lyricism, and direct but complex visual metaphors all come together in a wonderfully unique and cohesive aesthetic whole. This play was uniquely symbolic/theatrically alienating and emotionally potent all at the same time. Hill explores huge topics--identity, toxic patriarchal structures and culture, and the forces in the world that pit women and femme-identifying folks against one another just to name a few--in an intimate and startling way. While there is much terror and tragedy at the end, K's shift points mournfully/hopefully towards paradigm shifting.

Squire's sharp play is peppered with humor that burns and blisters as much as some of the gutting dramatic truths contained within. I love how this worked both as a small look at two unique and well-defined individuals, as well as a massive and thorough and examination of the dynamics within interracial relationships. Both characters are sympathetic, complex, and perpetrators of some questionable actions/words that startle. The journalist framework felt original and well-defined rather than gimmicky--in fact, it allowed for some beautifully revealing private moments that shaded in key nuances in our two main characters.

A powerful and distressing exploration of misogyny and incel rage. I loved how all of the characters felt multi-dimensional and interesting, and at the same time felt like a perfectly (but not ham handedly) rendered metaphors of the cancerous and insidious cycle of the hatred of women. Eddy's rendering of both the overt and covert toxicity of the male characters hammers home the alarming truth that so many ostensibly "good guys" are not just bystanders of the abuse of women but sneaky and socially-sanctioned participants in it. The monologues and meta moments are potent punctuation to the scenes.

A touching and well-crafted play that explores a complex and evolving relationship between two sympathetic characters. Brantley has crafted likeable folks in Avery and Emily, who earn our loyalty, even as we see them sabotage themselves and their connections with other. I love the way the piece maintains a physical unity of space while winding back and forth through time. There is a lot of room here for creative staging and stage pictures, and for interesting use of design elements to establish and maintain the heightened theatrical world. The ending caught me off guard with its poignant ambiguity.

A mind and genre-bending musical adventure that subverts history. This piece uses pitch-black humor and musical theater spectacle to explore an infinitely dark period. In giving this twisted and revisionist peek into Hitler's hatred and insecurity, Malawer underscores the lack of humanity, empathy, and sense that allowed the Holocaust to happen. The satire is self-aware, but never exceedingly so, and the end is surprisingly poignant.

What an awesomely vivid, original, and compelling theatrical universe Brandli has created here! BLISS' roots in and subversion of mythic archetypes of women are brilliantly executed. I appreciated how the original stories take on new resonance in this adaptation, and the ideas explored don't feel shoehorned to fit their mythological counterparts. Each of these women is complex and propelled by anger, sadness, and frustrations that you can't help but sympathize with. The stage pictures described are super theatrical in the ways they combine bold design ideas, movement, and song. I'd love to see this in production!

A funny, nuanced comedy about gay male friendship and the intricacies and dangers of "Peter Pan" syndrome that can prevent men from actualizing as adults and living healthy lives. THE JAMB looks at this issue in a uniquely queer way, touching upon the factors in gay male culture that can lead to these unhealthy patterns. The titular "jamb" reflects the different ways Tuffer and Roderick experience liminality--age, identity, and the "era of gay" they grew up in, feeling both the privileges and amorphous dissatisfaction that came along with it. The characters are all multi-dimensional and delightful!

Like in his excellent POOLSIDE GLOW, Herrera renders here a compelling central character who feels trapped by social and internal expectations and is figuring out how to live her truth while not disappointing her family and disrupting her own equilibrium. The dreamlike scenes move at a contemplative but continually propulsive pace, and I appreciated how Kira's physical claustrophobia amplified her emotional arc. The end was nuanced and complex--I love how Ezri doesn't just let Kira off the hook for the impact Kira has had on her, yet there is still an ambiguous hope in their final interaction.