Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

I think Scott Sickles is one of the few playwrights who could take a potential suicide and turn it into a dark comedy that explores the relationship in terms that only Fedora, the completely self-centered girlfriend, could explain. And the end is anything but a let-down... in any sense of the word.

There is a difference between respecting the traditions of another culture and hijacking -- the word "appropriating" doesn't always get the point across -- them to elbow in on the fun and pretend that you really do understand the tradition, even if you think you're doing them some kind of honor. Hayley St. James's monologue makes that point clearly and without rancor, which makes it all that more powerful and meaningful.

The limitations of doing a play on Zoom are like those imposed by any art form with a set of rules. For example, a sonnet is fourteen lines in iambic pentameter with a rhyming couplet at the end. Anything else and it's not a sonnet. But within those constraints, anything goes; the imagination is limitless. So it is with this short piece. Not only are there limits in the format, there are others as well in this story. But the tale told and the connection that is made are inventive, intriguing, and who knows where it may go...

DC Cathro is the only playwright I can think of that would take this situation and turn it into two guys worrying about what it looks like should they accidentally kiss. And DC Cathro is the only playwright I can think of who devotes so much good energy to making this story absolutely believable and giving the actors, not to mention the audience, so much sheer fun.

If Greek mythology had been taught this way, I would have paid a lot more attention in class. Sorry, Edith Hamilton, but Adam Richter has you beat with this funny and genuinely real take on the Perseus/Medusa story that turns it on its head -- pun intended -- where the monster is the one with the smarts and the hero is a muscle-bound dork. I can't wait to see this on stage.

The world that Hayley St. James has created in this play is isolated from the rest of us during the height of the pandemic, yet it is a safe place for these three people to find comfort, love, and share it with the presence of David Bowie. This intimate world is universal, accessible, and a source of inspiration on how just to cope, hang on, and look to the stars.

A taut and tense moment between two people that seems to be real... but is it? The interaction between A and B is like the title implies: two sides of the same coin. Very different yet bound together. This would be a very powerful piece for two actors exploring the depths of a character, and there's not a wasted moment.

The response of the son to a question from his father is one simple stage direction. It makes the whole play work and worth it on every level.

There are any number of things -- little things, annoyances, quirks -- that can make a relationship unique, and the love story between these two very complicated but clearly in-love people makes that point so well. John Mabey has a light touch that reveals the inner truths and worries that we all have about ourselves and the person we love. In this play that lays it all out in the same way leaves fall on a forest floor -- seemingly random but artfully patterned -- we watch as these two souls find a way to be together.

The precision and insight that Nick Malakhow brings to this story of teaching in a private Quaker school, a place so determined to live up to the precepts of political correctness that it borders on absurdism, is perfect. The sincere attempts to make a Friends-based world crafted by scions of guilt-ridden liberalism are revealed in fine detail, and the two teachers, Ben and Jasmine, are caught up in the maelstrom. Everyone should hold this play in the Light.