Recommended by Rachael Carnes

Smith's lovely ode to the actor, aged out of roles - and looking back - could express the melancholy of a host of reminiscences, lost opportunities, or just the slow fade of time, that catches up with us all, eventually. The character bemoans the resolution that he'll never play the great prince, that he will always be the sidekick, the fodder, the fool - Can he make peace with it? And how does that light a way forward? A terrific piece for a mature actor, which we need more of.

During the pandemic, I may or may not have developed a habit for consuming slick British heist shows. (Who am I kidding? I've watched them all.) So I am aquiver to discover Shrike and Magpie (Um, GREAT character names?) -- their wit, their confidence, their deadpan droll. I'm already casting this in my head. It's glorious. St. James has a killer concept here - love the edge between Victorian/High-Tech - and I just want to see more of these two women. Brava!

Wang's play is palpably rooted in place. Through the subtle shifts in dialogue, we feel ourselves grounded in a neighborhood in L.A., we see the High School, the surrounding streets and homes, we feel the tug of these two characters, each drawn with clear wants/needs, yet expressing so much more, a universal desire for understanding, for connection, for mentorship, support. And for hope. Just lovely.

A lovely character-driven piece that pulls us into a moment, and the magic of the setting. (Anyone who knows the spot will feel instantly transported.) St. James writes with humor, heart and humanity.

Mark Bly's Kafka's Train exercise takes on new layers of meaning after a year of self-imposed isolation from most of humanity, and in Goldman-Sherman's capable hands, reaches new heights of absurd, though relatable, energy. There's a wonderfully dynamic theatricality to this piece. I am so weary of Zoom sitting-and-talking that even *reading* a play with physical imagination soothes my soul. This wild ride is a dream, and would be a celebration for any creative team that tackles it.

If you've ever had to purchase a chintzy dress you'll never wear again, or been asked to shellack your hair to stentorian heights, or had makeup inexplicably sprayed on your face or tottered in too-tight heels or held a bride's hair while she vomited, or showed up to toast a dubious couple, already rehearsing the "I never liked him, anyway" speech for later, then this gem of a play is for you.

Awwwwww I love this. Only in Hageman's capable hands could something as broad as a Bigfoot play expose the nuances of father-son dynamics, with all the heart and humanness we've come to expect from her work. Crisp, funny dialogue, and a deep emotional well. This play is a warm, cryptid-inspired hug, as a dad and son stalk the Legend, and their own elusive sense of understanding one another.

I read this little gem with a giant smile on my face. What a world Sickles has created here! Oh, rapturous occlusion of tropes! Ah, melodious crashing of characters. This might be most most favorite run of stage directions *ever recorded in human history* - it's like Sickles thought, "Gosh, what can I write that will give Rachael a much-needed lift this Monday morning et VOILA. To call it a mere play does it a disservice. It's something bigger, a dance opera? An epic rolling cart of weirdness? Whatever it is, WHEN CAN I SEE IT PRODUCED? Thank you, Scott.

Goldman-Sherman enlivens the conversation about climate change and environmental extinction through the lens of a ballet-dancing sauropod. It's a brilliant means to draw empathy towards the plight of survival, yours, mine, every living thing. This tight, funny, relatable, heartbreaking piece trains a light on what we're losing: Not simply habitat, not only diversity, but our capacity to be fully ourselves. As we see the effects of climate change and its wake, we realize, we don't have the spaciousness to dance or dream if we have to focus only on survival. Brilliant.

A whip-smart, deeply-felt rail against systemic racism, spanning decades and shining the brightest light on one of America's darkest historical chapters, linking the Chinese Exclusion Act to now, and the future. Toy Johnson's characters pull us in effortlessly, ask for empathy, in this beautifully-crafted triptych. As we reckon with a heartbreaking rise in hate crimes against our AAPI communities, we need a play like this to ring through, a clarion call for justice.