Recommended by Mark Loewenstern

As I write this, I am Zoom listening to the 3rd production of this play I've heard. It doesn't get old. With an elegant yet firm forward momentum, it takes the audience on a satisfying journey of sibling rivalry and brotherly love, parental neglect and parental gifts. Tasty roles for two actors to sink their teeth into.

Teddy and Anzor share an epic love in epic times. With 6 characters Sickles convincingly shows us world-changing events that feel all-too-likely to occur during our lifespans. In the eye of that maelstrom are these two engaging lovers reaching across time and death, war and extinction, to give each other what they need. As the world comes apart, they stand outside the continents and endure, hoping it will come back together again.

An achingly beautiful appeal from a wounded lover. Sickles deftly lays out for us the complexities of love, the dance of needing to be vulnerable and fearing to be vulnerable. This is delicate work, and in less skillful hands would feel clunky, but Sickles makes it sing.

A rollercoaster of reality-denial. We begin with one character who spins implausibilities to escape dire responsibility. Then the whole world is shaken up and re-set, a new reality is asserted and subverted. Seamlessly, Levine brings us back down to earth, explains all, dusts us off and asks us if we enjoyed the ride. I did.

The power of this play is in the understated way in which the couple's mutual love is shown. With a light touch, it resonates deeper. The journey is about finding home, and also rediscovering the home that is always there but was forgotten and then remembered again. Williams vividly shows us those specific aches and joys. Delicate and beautiful work.

Just saw a powerful Zoom performance of this play. The surprises unfolded one after another, showing us a fresh and believable conflict for a mature actress to play, and a delicate, nuanced relationship between the characters. Hageman shows us a lot in 10 minutes. Well deserving of more performances.

Love it when a play surprises me. We know there's so much going on inside Mary that she doesn't say, but it's still a happy shock to learn just how much she doesn't say. With a vivid economy of language, Plummer gives the actors plenty to work with, tells us all we need to know about this marriage and the importance of this one conversation, which in retrospect is made all the more important when the play is done.

Great monologue for young actors to stretch themselves on, to create a subtler, more complex character than is usually written for young actors. At the same time, it expands in the hearts of the audience, making us feel all the feels. We hurt for Space Alien Kid, walled off and alone, and we sigh and laugh at how Space Alien Kid builds that wall brick by brick. Thoroughly relatable.

Ah, this is wonderful. An instantly clear universal moment that is made suddenly specific and profound. Without an ounce of preciousness, Wyndham spins a tale that resonates deep in the heart yet is simple enough for a 7 year old to tell.

Scary atmospherics! Twisty horror! Directors, techies and actors will all have a ball exploring the possibilities of this tight and vivid script, in which the simple act of a man getting out of bed in the middle of the night is made shocking, terrifying. An easy-to-produce, quality Halloween tale.