Recommended by Scott Sickles

A terrific piece of one-minute absurdism that, in addition to being a clever idea, addresses the nature of obsolescence and the threat of extinction in a tremendously fun way! Also, the costumes are as fabulous as they are simple. Hu''ah!

"Life is very long." That was the last line in the Gi60US production of the play, which I just had the pleasure of watching. I love this revision. You knowing it now spoils nothing. Take a minute out of your day and enjoy the play.

Reminiscent of the finer sketches of Peter Cook and Dudley Moore (likely inspired by them), the play offers us two characters in a discussion calculating a lifetime of mundanity resulting the the numerical cataloging of a simple joy. One can't help but smile throughout and feel sated at the end. Lovely.

Instantly simultaneously playful and menacing, O'Grady once again gives voice to a character who doesn't have one. (Read EGYPT!) This time, it's Scout the Dog! I love an animal written with the psychology of that animal. It shows great empathy from the writer and passes it on to the audience. And Scout has thoughts!

Scout is a protective pup, ready with advice and guidance, specifically about the device keeping them safe... and confined. Protected from greater harm by momentary cruelty. It draw parallels to the human experience, and what we're willing to accept. Like Scout, you'll have thoughts.

There are a few ways to play this delicate, emotionally grounded piece. Two that come to mind are: nostalgia and reconciliation. It all depends on how sanguine Jude is about his mom taking away his favorite things when he was a child. If it's water under the bridge, that's one thing. If that stream is rocky, that's another. Either way it works, but I think the payoff is greater if the journey is more turbulent. Regardless, Jude and Mom are beautifully nuanced characters. Mom has no apologies or regrets and a simply justification. It's poetic.

I’ve often wondered who would come to my funeral. Or my memorial. Or the Zoom cocktail party.

Gasomski’s meditation on the possibilities as as hilarious as it is thorough.

But the staging… the possibilities are literally limitless as is the maximum cast size. My mind is abuzz with potential strategies and I don’t even direct!

The combination of attendance math and casting calculus only strengthens its emotional impact which, after a glorious chaotic dance of logistics and emotions, lands with elegant profundity!

I would love to see it. Or be one of the thousands in it!

I *hate* asking for things. Even “could you pass the salt” feels like an imposition. Networking feels opportunistic and disingenuous.

Emily McClain has created a beautiful parable for people like me: the inhibited self-deniers mortified by anything that could potentially be construed as an imposition.

Like its titular oranges, the play is bright and delicious, even though it’s good for you! The characters are perfect foils for this lesson in which désire and negotiation escalate quickly with humor and honesty. Hopefully, you’ll end up a little braver after experiencing this play than you were before it started.

In great monologues, oftentimes telling the story IS the story! And what a great story — several, in fact. There’s the saga the speaker Angela is sharing, made up of a few other accounts other people’s mistakes, misdeeds, trials, and tragedies… and her own much quieter mostly unspoken story that cements this play in an unshakably heartfelt foundation.

The build is spectacular, not just because the tales she’s relaying are so interesting, but because the mundanity of her life between TikTok takes cleverly fuels the need for her to share. It lands hard and beautifully.

Can an entity be self-aware and still be unaware of its self-awareness??? Can it have emotions while not being aware of how emotional it is? Can it have discovered God and even pray, if its creator is man?

Conlon has certainly created an aritificial entity that evokes all of these questions while simultaneously ignoring them because it’s got a much more urgent problem: a deadline for a creative project! It’s Monkeys Typing Hamlet without monkeys, typewriters or Hamlet, wonderfully skewering our expections of technology and humans, science and creativity.

I declare this experiment a success!

This is why I always fly between major cities instead of drive. The last thing I need is to be strapped to table by a mad scientist with a vague European accent who’s in the mood to “experiment” and not in the sexy way.

Heyman builds an instantly fun Hammer Films meets Mel Brooks world. The negotiation between mad scientist and alchemist is a delightfully swinging pendulum. The personalities go way beyond archetypes and are insanely fun to play. And how often do you hear “homonculus” these days??? So much fun, ja!

Determining artistic ownership, managing creative egos, triaging who gets to express themselves when, all while keeping the audience invested… it’s a helluva juggling act and Cross has captured It perfectly. The play also conveys with astonishing vividness the robust aspirations of amateur impresarios and performers whose gifts require more patience from their listeners.

This would be so great to see performed and probably even more fun to rehearse! Only one was to find out! SOMEBODY DO THIS PLAY!