Recommended by Scott Sickles

In this sharp satire, Adam Richter dares to give us hope. A Karen who knows when she's been called out??? Jules Verne didn't have that kind of imagination! But will she learn? Will she double down on her privilege? WHAT ARE THE ODDS???

Richter leaves us wanting more: more discussion, more compassion, and more action taken by those who can make the world better. With one off-stage voice with one line he creates the impression of a living, breathing community, and we end up caring about the people in it.

Maybe not Karen, but you can't have everything.

There are all kinds of generation gaps. Sometimes it's age, sometimes it's experience, sometimes it's technology, and sometimes it how the way we're used to doing things is changing and we don't have the time or inclination to change with it.

BLINDED is all of the above.

Instead of giving us super-hip youngsters vs a dinosaur caught in a technological tarpit, Kendall represents all sides with compassion. Mickelson has his reasons for resisting and Andrew, a diplomatic administrator, and Stacy, a no-nonsense tech, are happy to teach the teacher.

BLINDED is celebration of learning that bridges all gaps.

While inspired by pandemic-induced isolation and the trepidation and sensations one faces when emerging from it, "6,745" functionally serves as a metaphor for so many things. Regardless of how you look at it -- as someone daring to leave loneliness behind and face other people socially, romantically, you name it -- Radtke establishes a visceral sense of escaping stagnation and embracing hope despite the risks. Lovely.

F*********ck!

Ostensibly beginning as a metaphor for the anguish wrought by quarantine isolation and the temptation of confirmation bias, GLASS HOUSES subtly evolves into a universe all its own. The toxicity is both emotional and physical. McClain instills a pervasive sense of uncertainty throughout, exploiting the familiar imbalances in her characters’ relationships and dynamics in all directions. All three roles are complex and challenging. Scenic designers could have a field day with the domes, but it’s still simple to produce.

Beautifully unsettling.

Bless the geeks and nerds, especially the children.
They know their stuff. They’re passionate about it. They have a clarity of purpose, a commitment to accuracy, and a perfectly reasonable expectation that their standards will be met by all!

Wyndham brilliantly captures the fevered determination of the oddball child (with hints of neurodivergence) and it TOOK ME BACK! There's a yearning heart to match this child's extremely active mind, and the monologue brings us into the kid's soul while demonstrating why others may not want to come along.

I'm with you, Space Alien Kid! All the way!

It was a dark and stormy night.

In his terrific chamber piece, Levine instantly creates the perfect atmosphere for a spooky night and builds the tension swiftly and steadily from there. He also creates characters we instantly like and feel tremendous concern for. It’s a textbook example of effective and economic writing down to the final payoff.

An easy-to-produce crowd pleaser! May it be seen everywhere, on stage or on Zoom!

OH, JOY!

Abby is not very good at verbal sleight of hand. Fortunately, O'Neill-Butler is a master! She pits a desperately flustered woman against a no-nonsense guy and turns a contretemps into kismet!

We feel for these people because we see where their pain comes from, which is incredibly important in comedy. And this play is FUNNY! The dialogue moves at a fantastic clip and the plotting has the precision of a Swiss clock!

Simple set. Great roles for actors (including a hilarious walk-on). This play must be done in every festival everywhere!

Absolutely riveting! Following a neo-noir structure, Osmundsen’s complex mystery also serves as an indictment against religious hypocrisy and draconian standards of attractiveness among the gay male subculture. Vivisecting pathologies of self-loathing and body shame, the play holds EVERYONE accountable including the titular “stupid, fat, ugly,” Eric. Hardly an innocent victim, Eric brings pain on himself. Osmundsen takes no prisoners revealing why.

As with any great noir, everyone has secrets and nothing is as it seems. Every character is richly drawn. Flashbacks and dream sequences skillfully propel the dark story into the harsh light of truth.

Uncompromising and masterful.

You're gonna feel it.

Not just the physical itch though that's inevitable. You'll feel the casually insatiable need for connection, approval, understanding, and love from people you don't even necessarily like.
And you're gonna wanna scratch it.

Cathro has created a taut, darkly funny, psychologically complex domestic drama dealing with physiological manifestations of mental illnesses, the toll those take on families especially when the imbalance of attention turns to neglect, the legacies of trauma, and how we transcend resentment if we can.

Great characters, especially Belinda the mom, deliver unexpected interactions that mesmerize over one unbroken scene. A triumph!

A lovely, theatrical nostalgia piece that perfectly captures the interspecies bond done humans have towards specific animals. Josephs takes us on a trip through time, filled with milestones, revolving around one odd, beautiful constant.