Recommended by Dave Osmundsen

A harrowing story that uncovers a tragically overshadowed part of the Holocaust: the sexual assault of Jewish women by their “rescuers.” Wiransky’s play moves with a skillful and cinematic speed and fluidity, weaving past and present to tell the stories of two women facing demoralizing circumstances. In addition to sexual assault, "Shanda" also tackles sexism in academia, where rigid standards and a reliance on documentation limits the scope of what research is allowed to take place.

Constructed with the taut intensity of a Hitchcockian thriller, THE CHECHENS is a tense thriller, a family drama, and an indictment of homophobia. As a tight-knit family's faith and culture force them to do a difficult, terrible thing to one of their own, the stakes gradually and organically build to a roller coaster of a final scene. Props for an ingenious feat of misdirection, too! The family dynamics are also beautifully observed, allowing for sly humor to be sprinkled throughout. Brilliant!

Julie Zaffarano expertly employs Hawksian aesthetics, such as rapid-fire dialogue and high-stakes drama, to dive into complex topics like true crime coverage, journalistic ethics, and our capacity for violence. Zaffarano creates a strong protagonist in Dorothy, whose determination to succeed as a woman in a man’s world forces her to make difficult choices. Her push-pull relationship with fellow journalist Carl is highly compelling, resulting in one of the tensest climaxes I have read in a while.

On the surface, this play explores the triangle that forms between a gay children’s author, his much younger boyfriend, and his acerbic editor. But underneath is a challenge about what constitutes children’s literature, what we can teach children through literature, and the minefields that erupt when queerness, however innocuous, is made explicit. With well-drawn characters and a carefully crafted narrative, "Everything Beautiful..." is a haunting elegy for queer creatives who passed too soon.

Salant's specificity to an Autistic and Jewish perspective expands this devastating but hopeful story to an emotionally resonant universality. Harold is the most complex, fully fleshed-out, and compelling Autistic protagonist I’ve encountered in a while. So much made me sob while reading. Harold’s frustrations and struggles with school, family, and growing up made me sob. David’s mishandling of the worst news of his son’s life made me sob. The final stage direction made me sob. Beautiful.

What begins as a familiarly fraught mother/daughter dynamic expands into a poignant and gorgeous exploration of cultural heritage, old country values vs. American values, the nebulous promise of the American dream, motherhood, and the sacrifices immigrants make for a better life. But despite these heavy topics, Pharel’s play is warm and funny throughout. Much of this is owed to her characters—mother Emi and daughter Bean—who always feel real, specific, and human. Lovely work!

One of the most engaging, thoughtful, infuriating, and insightful plays I have ever read on NPX. Erik Gernand tackles thorny issues of journalism ethics, queerness, protest, small-town politics, and oppression in a deceptively simple manner. By setting it in a high school in Indiana, Gernand pinpoints how the personal and political piquantly come into being when it comes to what, and how, we teach the next generation. With complex characters and richly intelligent dialogue, the play offers no easy answers, but is never didactic—it challenges and entertains with grace and gusto.

A beautifully and meticulously structured memory play, BLACK BEAR ISLAND creates its own chronological magic, bending time to its own unique rules. The well-paced mystery kept me on the edge of my proverbial seat, and tapped into profound themes of loss, love, and the memories we choose to keep of each other. A devastating example of how you can’t go home again, this play feels intimate, mythic, and epic all at once. Gorgeous, wonderful, thrilling play.

A wonderfully chaotic and beautifully messy satire about heritage, family, and what is worth hanging on to/letting go. Eliana Pipes’ boldly theatrical convention of a game show is used to brilliant effect, potently illustrating the price our two main sisters must pay. Disturbing, unsettling, and complicated, DREAM HOU$E floored and stunned me.

Humans react to grief differently. Some keep on going. Others wallow. Others decide to push their loved ones away and become a goat. The latter scenario is rendered with warmth, magic, and compassion by Jen Jarnagin. What begins as a delightfully queer camping trip slowly turns into a poignant study of trauma and loss (with a side of absurdism in the form of goat legs), culminating in the realization that all living beings experience emotional highs and lows. Lovely, emotionally resonant work.