Recommended by Nick Malakhow

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.

An exquisite solo show that wades through identity, sexuality and sexual freedom, sexual assault, gender roles and hierarchies, and more with a combination of poetry, well-timed humor, and potent stage pictures. Gandhi makes excellent use of the solo form to explore Minu's relationship to her intersectional identity and her home (in all the multitudinous ways one can define that word). The early humor helps us establish a rapport with Minu/Minita--her experiences in India land like gut punches. Minu's complex relationship with her identity isn't wrapped with a tidy bow, but the ending is satisfying and beautiful.

This is a lovely, poignant, and original look at family, friendship, grief, and mortality. Teddy is a complex central character and to watch him process the death of Stephen as he does is engaging and thought-provoking. I appreciated the forward and backward jumps in time. Rather than making the story feel disjointed, these time leaps helped reveal much about the Teddy we see in 1992, while also providing new context and framing around his journey with grief and life as a gay man during the AIDS crisis. The supporting characters are just as vivid and well-realized as Teddy too!

What an amazing piece! This quiet, nuanced, and unassuming two-hander gives us a couple of really distinct and brilliantly-rendered characters and explores friendships and how they evolve, age divides, abortion, and many other topics in a briskly-paced 90 or so minutes. At the same time, it never feels overstuffed with issues and keeps its laser focus on its likeable, flawed, and multi-dimensional central characters. The conversations are funny and human, the conflicts and motivations Olivia and Maggie both bring to the table are incredibly potent, and the surprises are subtle but supremely affecting.

A complex and subtle piece with a great ensemble cast of eclectic personalities and perspectives. Bennett really captures not only a sense of place and time within the restaurant world itself, but also the broader landscape of Philly and the world around these characters enclosed in the hermetically sealed world of the play. Without resorting to overdone theatrics, Bennett traces Jefferson's powerful and realistic arc of contemplating leaving his safe haven, a setting full of the stifling comfort that stymies growth and opportunity. All of this is impacted and complicated by each character's unique intersectional identity. Nuanced work!