Recommended by Robert Weibezahl

A poignant history lesson for those who may not know that the political divide that tore apart the country during Vietnam also tore families apart. The gentle-spirited Granger family has a broad perspective, but still they cannot escape the endemic confusion of the times when it infiltrates their own happy home. The twin brothers—the yin and yang of society’s perceptions of ‘manhood’ as it were—offer a beautifully balanced portrayal of sibling affection. Dave’s revelatory speech near the end of the play is gut-wrenching in its damning indictment of the choices boys must make in wartime.

What a wonderful monologue! We so often speak/hear/write about a mother’s love, but rarely does a father’s love, with all its baggage and complications, get an airing. It is impossible not to be moved by Deray’s heartfelt and honest writing.

The pandemic and resulting quarantine has shifted the dynamics in many relationships, and for the couple in this play (which happens to be same-sex but is universal in its complicated intimacy), different ways of dealing with the crisis could derail their love. Deray really captures, with great honesty, how many of us have learned new things about ourselves and about the one’s we love during this difficult time.

Such a clever (and deceptively benign) setup for a short play—the recording of a ‘special features’ interview for a DVD release. The way that the truth about what happened fifty years ago on a film set unfolds from repressed memories underscores the strides that have been made in the past few years, but even more it proves a shocking reminder of the way the world—but specifically the entertainment industry—has long viewed women as objects—of desire, of inconsequence, and of rape. A disturbing play that deserves our attention.

This somewhat surreal satire with very dark underpinnings sharply examines the dilemma of exerting one’s secular desires and individuality when enshrouded in a very religious environment. Sharece Sallem is a potent and brave writer who clearly has much to tell about a world few of us know.

The promise of the clever, enviable setup of this play is fulfilled with nonstop zaniness. It had me from word one, but when the 8-Track says “I didn’t get out much,” I was all in, ready to let Arianna Rose take me anywhere in this kooky slice of nostalgia.

This dark and daring monologue about a modern-day castrato raises innumerable (and sometimes hard to ponder) questions—ranging from gender fluidity to identity to the obsessions of art. In the hands of the right performer, this piece could clearly be a tour de force—at turns funny, disturbing, and pathetic (in every sense of the word). Bravo!

This compelling monologue, extracted from a full-length play, speaks specifically to the emotional complexity of the war at home during Vietnam, but it also has a timelessness as it addresses the truths that every compassionate parent struggles with—indeed, must agonize over—when forced to send a child off to fight for an abstraction.

If Margaret Atwood would lighten up, she might produce something akin to this clever and biting glimpse into an unwelcome future. As always, Emma Goldman-Sherman blends wit and pathos as few other writers can, conveying something we call loss—for lack of a more precise word.

This is an exuberant short chorus of spoken voice. A writer who comes up with the lines “My heart is on clearance, completely under-priced./My heart is a tomato just before it’s diced” is a writer worth knowing. And one with something to teach us all.