Recommended by Nick Malakhow

Danny and Gerry are chaotic and compelling focal points in this story. Seeing them repeatedly fracture and come back together was engaging, and the piece overall explored excellent themes like co-dependent and toxic relationships, the different ways people process and confront their traumas, and the at times divergent and at times intersecting roles of sex and love in relationships. I was really intrigued by Danny and Gerry's engagement with the audience. It helped to illustrate that their relationship was something that they were processing individually and with one another and constantly trying to make sense of.

This is a gorgeous, theatrical, and insightful piece of sci-fi led by compelling characters and excellent world building. In a masterful example of showing vs. telling, Jordan Ramirez Puckett fleshes out a hypothetical future that is clearly rendered through the words and actions of just four eclectic people. Sofia and Zoe are powerful foci, and we see well-paced revelations as we wind back and forth in time and place. Ramirez Puckett explores gender in two totally different fields, faith, and human use and abuse of the planet with subtlety and complexity. The ending moments are astonishing!

Once again, Gill shows talent for economical world building, this time in a slim one-act. The dialogue does an excellent job of showing (vs. telling) the evolving reality outside the confines of the apartment. Gill also does an excellent job of representing several different social attitudes towards global catastrophe in Amy, Tara, and Jesse, and injects a good dose of humor in the personification of death. Good and, of course, timely work!

A funny, fun ride that moves briskly and centers three awesome, distinct female characters. Gill explores important themes like how celebrity changes people, misogyny and intersectional discrimination within subcultures and the music business overall, and friendship all within this play's two fast-paced acts. Each of the characters is well-rendered and speaks with a distinct voice, and the dialogue is both humorous and clever without distracting us from the central story and themes. The inevitable arrival of Krystal is appropriately game changing and the revelations that follow are nuanced but potent.

I loved the spare and lyrical quality of Gershman's dialogue. He renders several truly compelling characters, and it is a testament to his skill as a writer that we get a good sense of the mostly-absent Sam throughout. All of the characters radiate with melancholy, heartache, and a yearning to connect--Paolo in particular. He is a compelling central figure around which the other characters orbit. This exploration of grief, trauma, betrayal, and letting go steadily builds to its inevitable end. The final moment is a lovely and poignant tableau. I'd love to see it on its feet.

In a surprising and unsettling slim 10 minutes, Gershman both renders two believable human beings and uses them as an uncomfortable and truthful metaphor for American indifference, hostility, and individualism. That this point is made in the context of a "morning after" gay male hookup additionally provides an intersectionally astute commentary on layers of privilege within the queer community. Well-done!

What a tenderly-written story about a loving family whose open-mindedness is tested. Not only are the fears and anxieties of the adult characters fleshed out, but, more importantly, the arcs of the child characters are particularly well-rendered. Ariel's journey is written with sensitivity--the role strikes me as both an excellent challenge for a young actor, as well as one is that is developmentally suited for someone that age. Rosendorf beautifully captures the baggage adults bring to identity formation in examining the different attitudes Jamie, Ariel, and Molly have towards gender vs. adults in their lives.

Wow! This is an intense ride that doesn't let up from start to finish. Ashley Rose Wellman has created a world that both feels heightened and all too grounded in the explosive, id-like emotions that lead to violence. Bekah is an absolutely compelling lead character, and the evolution of her connection with Miles is as unsettling as it is inevitable. Wellman plumbs the insecurities, emotional violence, and disconnection that lead to hatred and Bekah and Miles' alienation. Bekah's raw and unpredictable energy in the final scenes is heartrending, and the last moments are surprising and well-earned.

"Tranquil" is another exquisite, intimate, and nuanced slice of life from Andrew Rosendorf. Ellen's longing for connection and normalcy is a powerful driving force behind this play, as is her family's journey through grief, guilt, and loneliness. In a well-selected collection of moving, funny, and excellently rendered scenes, Rosendorf captures the story of this fractured family coming back together. The ending moments are touching and hopeful, even as they eschew sentiment or easy/happy endings. Each character is fully fleshed out with an uncanny naturalism and humanity that few playwrights can capture so well.

What a gorgeous, vividly-rendered intersectional queer story. All of these characters are written with a great deal of tenderness and care for them, even as they make troublesome decisions! The central questions explored here are valuable and eternally relevant--who gets to tell their stories and see themselves in the media, what makes a society "safe" or not, how do different facets of our identities intersect with our privilege--and communicated through a hyper-specific and nuanced time and place. The betrayals and resolutions flow sensibly--not to say they are predictable, but that they carry the weight of inevitable tragedy. Amazing!