Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

Is there a more tried and true theme in playwriting than the family? It's been a staple of the stage since the Greeks (Oedipus, call your mother...) through Shakespeare (Oh, those whacky Danes in Elsinore), and into the modern age from Tennessee Williams to Tracey Letts. But there's always a new way to tell because each family is different with their own tales and rivalries, and Julie Weinberg finds wonderfully rich veins to tap in her snappy and fully-crafted characters and story. There's so much fun and honesty here that it deserves to be shared and savored.

"Homestar" takes us to a world of dreams and nightmares as these women search for answers in a place where the glitter and promise of riches is just the surface over a layer of seediness and artifice. No one seems to know exactly what they really want in their search for the truth behind Leigh-Leigh's murder. Benjamin V. Marshall's characters are lyrically beautiful and repulsive, often in the same breath, and the picture he paints stretches the imagination. A stunning work.

Peter Stone, who gave us "1776," once said that "History writes lousy drama." Not in this case, however. J. Lois Diamond gives us a compelling and fascinating look into one of the most influential families in the history of modern India. Kamala Nehru, the mother of Indira Gandhi, fought all her life to end the practice of Purdah; the isolation of women. As she does in all of her plays, J.Lois Diamond brings these people to full dimension, and the story is inspirational.

It's the little things that remind us of moments, friends, relationships. They stop us in our tracks as we try to hold on to them. The traces, the bits and pieces, become a journey of reflection and solace. In this piece where Brian is reminding us of those little things that make the larger connection, and for the moment, the details don't matter so much as does the bond between two souls.

A touching and altogether lovely moment between mother and son, each finding their own kind of miracle in the appearance of a cardinal on the windowsill. DC Cathro's unfailing touch with character and dialogue moves us, makes us laugh, and -- for me, at least -- see a moment that is both close to home and comforting.

This is a hilarious look at the Golden Circus of the early 20th Century ultra-rich who summered in their "cottages" in Newport, made even more so because the references that Julia Specht makes in are based in fact, and the characters are true to life. This is how satire is supposed to work: reality turned up to eleven. The contrast between the upper crustaceans and the serving class is sharp, especially when we know that there's a truth beneath the outrageous millinery that only the servants can reveal. Huzzah!

This has all the elements of a taut thriller: deeply-drawn and well-defined characters, believable and natural dialogue, and best of all, a storyline that crackles along and never lets up. It has the wit and wisdom of an episode of "The West Wing" and a clear stage presence. No one is left behind, and where you expect to find heroes and villains, you instead grasp their full intention. This is a play about more than just power and control; it's about people who find themselves caught in the middle of their worlds.

The saying "Not all heroes wear capes" has a corollary: Not all demons have horns and scare the crap out of you. In fact, the most insidious demons are charming and analytical, and they're not always visible; sometimes they stand right where you can't see them. In this compelling and articulate play, Scott Sickles gives us Dal, exploring his feelings for Nicky through the veil and burden of his ADHD. He pulls no punches, but uses a touch that never scorches the earth. Not only do we feel for these souls, we understand them; a heroic act of wisdom.

I should remember that Scott Sickles has the capacity to amaze me, but actually, it's nice to have it happen anew because it makes the experience all the more breathtaking and thrilling. In this monologue his character is relaying a message to an absent friend as they share a view from space, seeing the world from orbit in real time and relating true feelings that are not limited by the distance or the electrons and pixels that come between them. Enrapturing and comforting, yes, but tinged with longing that makes it all the more beautiful.

Do you want to hear the story from the patient, or the scar that knows what really happened? Well, in this charming and often laugh-out-loud monologue by Jan Probst, we get the whole story from start to finish and beyond, and from the one who knows the score... and the scar.