Recommended by Nick Malakhow

A truly excellent play about the multitudinous implications of gentrification! I loved Kramer's intersectional treatment of the topic that narrows in on the specific crossroads of race, age, and sexuality (among other things) that make such cultural transitions especially fraught and complex. These human beings and their conversations both feel so real and heightened at the same time, that the play takes on a parable-like quality. Even so, it feels totally the opposite of preachy--it is nuanced, focused, original, and surprising. I found it easy/productive to map pieces of Gideon's arc onto my own areas for growth and change.

This mindblowing play succeeds as horror, satire, and an exploration of questions about what it means to create queer art--who gets to make it, what does it look like, who is it for. Kramer creates a dark, unsettling, sexy, and absolutely hilarious world. Most impressive to me is how this works both as a piece of visceral horror and also a keenly intellectual examination of how toxic masculinity shapes, perverts, and can destroy the lives of queer people. The ending, while horrific, is satisfying and strangely hopeful, leaving us wondering which was more horrifying-part 1 or 2.

I loved this compassionate, genre-defying piece that straddled the line between comedy, family drama, and horror. Nina Ki renders each of the characters here with complexity and nuance; we understand and feel for them all even when they are at odds with eachother. It is a thoughtful exploration of family trauma, grief, caretaking, and being haunted by all kinds of ghosts from the past. It is also wholly hilarious, and then there are these suddenly alarming and terrifying bits that take your breath away. I loved Ki's eye towards the intersectionally rich identities of the characters.

This lovely play centers and discusses queer characters who identify in all sorts of ways and who are at all different places in their journeys as queer folks. Sparrow renders each character with sensitivity and complexity. I also appreciated the sense of time and place evoked not just in the immediate sense but in a wider cultural sense--Chicago and the midwest even. The well-chosen interactions are potent, poignant, and sexy. The multi-faceted discussions about queer art and who/what it serves and what it can or should look like were engaging, compelling, and important.

This gorgeous play occupies a unique theatrical world between myth and reality. McCreary examines Dayo's continued traumas and his struggles to climb out of the mire using both poignant natural scenes and sparer, more lyrical moments. In doing so, he plunges us into Dayo's destruction and healing with a level of remove that allows us to thoughtfully consider and process it effectively. This feels both like a great parable while also being incredibly human. The exchanges and scenes feel carefully chosen and intricately structured, with amazing opportunities for actors, directors, and designers to play within the piece.

GUSHER! uses heightened theatricality to explore the numerous ways women of all ages and gender identities encounter seemingly unending oppressive structures and cycles in society, while showing us ways forward. The storm is a beautifully apt metaphor. I love how the piece is full of anger and conflict and viscerality, while the women in the piece are never cruel and destructive towards one another. Each character is nuanced and grappling with their own set of intersectionally rich issues. Atmospherically, Rosenberg balances quiet moments with tempestuous rage in a glorious and irregular rhythm. I'd love to see this staged!

Spectacular! McCreary creates a defined and bold theatrical universe that is cohesive, vivid, and unsettling. The play both presents a creepy post-apocalyptic vision of the future and serves as an extended and effective representation of the black queer experience as survivalist horror where people both struggle and succeed to find positive relationships and strength. It tackles trauma, past and present, intimacy, fellowship, and the toxic ways society frames survival as pitting potential allies and communities against one another. All of this is presented with a dose of dark and savvy humor. I'd love to see this onstage!

THE LAST DAUGHTER is an excellent piece of darkly comedic sci-fi. Strayer gives us enough details about the world to understand the lay of the land while still focusing entirely on character and theme rather than getting bogged down in exposition. Eve is a compelling protagonist, and the two women surrounding her--Mother and Elizabeth--have potent motivations as well. The visual metaphors are powerful and direct, and Strayer explores reproductive freedom, bodily autonomy, gender roles, self-actualization, and systems that oppress women with complexity and nuance. I finished this briskly-moving play in one entertaining sitting.

What a spectacular, sprawling piece that is large in scope and ambition while also being incredibly and intensely intimate. Aurin Squire examines the collateral damage of the opiod crisis in America by looking at an eclectic and well-rendered collection of people in rural Washington. Each individual feels distinct. The play effectively vacillates between collage-like, highly theatrical moments and smaller, longer scenes that crackle with immediacy. The balance of some huge visual images that payoff metaphorical dividends (the burning flag) and a plot driven by each character's unique damage around Eli's death is impressive and affecting. Produce this piece often!

Wow! This piece had my mind spinning in the best ways. Vanderark establishes a cohesive, well-defined, and endlessly interesting theatrical universe. Like the best sci-fi, we learn just enough about the world to have our bearings, but nothing ever feels like exposition. I was so impressed with the way the playwright transitioned between dreamlike, disjointed scenes; pointed and powerful naturalism; and expressionistic ambient poetry. The exploration of grief, relationships, loss, and the questions raised about what can and should live on about a person and in what form are complex and nuanced. The end is potently abrupt. Beautiful work!