Recommended by A.J. Ditty

An absolute riot of a play that stands out as not only a high-energy band-geeks-get-possessed-by-forest-spirits comedy but as a deeply moving meditation on friendship, growing up, and what it means to try and live in the impossible now. Toot, toot indeed.

A dazzlingly silly and deeply haunting tragicomedy, Where in North Dakota is Carmen SanDiego? is the surprising adaptation of Waiting for Godot I never knew I needed. Flynn’s adept ear for dialogue and comic timing leads, through discussions of acronyms and geography, to a beautifully humane depiction of two characters forever on the run, forced at long last to stay in one place and reckon with themselves, each other, and their place in a wild, indifferent universe. It's got heart, humor, and a scene where Inspector Gadget fires a confetti cannon. Excellent.

A poignant elegy on trauma and grief, SAINTS GO MARCHING delivers a sucker-punch of emotion in a wildly imaginative and deeply-felt tale of family, faith, and finding your place in the world. Barbot draws from a wide variety of inspirations, from Don Quixote to Neil Diamond, in order to weave a kaleidoscopic tapestry of a family in pain dealing with the loss of their in equal terms beloved and reviled patriarch. Like any good requiem, SAINTS GO MARCHING, while haunting, retains an optimism that anyone that has experienced loss might just recognize as hope. Produce. This. Play.

A Chekhovian farce of the highest order, FRONT OF HOUSE inspires as many belly laughs as it does panic attacks from anybody who's ever worked in the New York Service Industry. Waitt's precision with physical comedy is a wonder to behold, but, hidden among the slamming doors and upended plates is a surprisingly heartbreaking study of a ragtag group of people just trying to survive in an industry that constantly seeks to crush them. Poignant, heartfelt, and relentlessly hilarious, FRONT OF HOUSE delivers a full-course theatrical meal that will have you, like the characters themselves, declare it "Tapa the Line".

Martin McDonagh by way of Samuel Beckett (with just a splash of Philip Ridley), HOT STEAMS is a trippy, verbose, and startling play filled with enough twists, turns, and literary references to keep your head spinning and your stomach churning. Wegner has composed a relentlessly brutal deep-dive into the darkest parts of humanity, but his most remarkable trick is how deliriously entertaining he makes the ride. From the poetry of William Blake to waxing on the wonders of the human skull, HOT STEAMS weaves its macabre tale with a dark and giddy panache. Well done!

Hilarious, delicate, and quietly moving, THEN, OF COURSE, ALL THE THINGS HAPPENED is an emotional gut-punch of a play that throws a grenade at traditional play structure in order to find some truly messy, beautiful humanity underneath. Reuben's incredible gift at capturing entire lives in smallest of moments (things as small as making a screen name for the first time to watching a loved one pass away) is absolutely unmatched, and the random ordering of the scenes means you'll never get the same play twice. A must-read for anyone who has ever been a human.

A deep dive into the heart of GamerGate's darkness, I LOVE YOU, VIVIAN JAMES, is a gripping story of friendship, identity, and toxicity in the age of 4-Chan. Beck viscerally captures the real, human cost of internet trolling, and beautifully renders the brutal, harrowing journey of watching a close friend slowly become radicalized. Whip-smart, hilarious, and gut-wrenchingly tragic, VIVIAN JAMES vividly and exuberantly exposes the monsters of the internet and the very real people who unleash them from their behind their keyboards.

A love-letter to both the theater and those mad enough to pursue it, "Infallibility" is a brilliant two-hander filled with split-second character transformations, papal intrigue, and all sorts of saintly shenanigans (seriously, this is the kind of play actors dream about when they dream about plays). Barbot has the ability to dissect Catholicism in such thrilling, poignant terms that, while you marvel at the absolute absurdity of the VERY REAL history unfolding before your eyes, you might just find yourself contemplating your place in the universe.

A hauntingly moving meditation on the tenacity of grief, "The Laodamiad" is a delicate, whip-smart journey into the depths of despair and, somehow improbably, a remarkable treatise on the power of hope. LiBretto has the uncanny ability to make the ancient seem relevant, urgent, and achingly human. Euripides' version might be lost to history, but, thanks to this thrilling, poetic adaptation, we have the privilege of journeying with Laodamia from the shores of Iolcus to the depths of hell in search not only of her lost husband, but, for some semblance of peace. Highly recommended, 10/10, would violently sob again.