Recommended by Steven G. Martin

Read this play twice. Hansen has written a wry parody of biographical plays and their limitations. And playwrights' and historians' limitations. Kudos on Lilliebell Lombardo's outcry, too -- the most genuine and emotional moment in this short play.

"First Chair" steps into the world of professional orchestra musicians and their frustrations. Koppen uses music and choreography to set a foundation of character, the passage of time, conflict, and -- most importantly -- resolution and triumph. This is a powerful, uplifting 10-minute play.

Angie is in it for the long haul; her revenge is like slowly seeping poison. John Busser's very dark monologue may have holiday trimmings, but audiences will strongly remember its bitter core.

I love "Mrs. Claus Gets Menopause" because it's clear Daniel Guyton knows and appreciates the lore of the characters. But he uses the established history of the characters as a springboard to several contemporary comic moments, some of which are just bawdy enough to make an elf blush.

The very definition of bittersweet. The very model "if only" scenario.

Sickles starts this tale of friendship with humor through small talk and genial gossip. But the conversation deepens, emotional truth pours out and there's a sense of vulnerability ... before self-doubt and fear shut it down. And the audience experiences the bittersweet tone. The audience knows what would happen "if only." And the audience will ache for Doug and Garrett.

Do you like a little social commentary with your comedy? "Wankenstein" is funny and crass, and it upends a lot of science fiction tropes with its modern tech and philosophy.

There's also a nice, subtle message about LGBTQI+ folks being their own person -- not just a disappointment, accessory, or mascot for straight folks.

If nothing you do is ever good enough for the people you love the most, what are you to do? What if you're 10 years old, and your entire view of self-worth is based on your father's changing views of you? Zonia Tsang's "Up Here to Breathe" is painful, knowing, and -- indeed -- a tragedy.

Established marriages & established science can be dependable, orderly, and sturdy. Credit Jonathan O'Neill for creating this comic one-act that tosses a bit of chaos into the mix for both.

"Little Things Add" is built on a fun premise, and it provides fun character arcs for actors.

Carr's 10-minute comic monologue literally is a eulogy delivered about the socially dismissed by the socially dismissed. There are generous portions of "fuck you" sentiment along with heartfelt love and remembrance of true bonds formed. Joe is unpolished, brash, accusatory, and drunk, but he is also too genuine, honest, and humane to be forgotten.

Why will audiences love "Light Switch"? Osmundsen is so skilled at writing dialogue for distinctive voices; building structure, story and plot; and especially developing characters.

Henry Sullivan, the hero, has multiple layers -- several terrific qualities including intelligence, passion, humor, and earnestness, and also flaws. Which is terrific. Henry is not idealized nor is he entirely defined by being on the autism spectrum; Osmundsen allows him to be human, and audiences will relate to him.

"Light Switch" tells a universal story with the focus on a very specific character. It's terrific theatre.