Recommended by Scott Sickles

Tracy is not having a good day. In fact, she’s having several bad days all at once!

Amidst the everyday chaos there’s an apparent emergency that she can’t wrap her head around because the frenzy has completely zapped her brain! And while we’ve all had days like this, Tracy is a mother and is lucky when she doesn’t have a day like this.

Fast paced, funny, and furiously detailed, this is a great piece for actors that audiences and casting folks should love!

Even if one doesn’t stage this, it’s at the very least a necessary program note or lobby display.

Swenson, written as himself, though an actor could certainly do it, poses important questions about the nature of surviving abuse. It’s a goddamn miracle he’s survived to tell this tale — not just the events but their aftershocks which are forever.

Ulttimtely as a piece of theater, it’s a terrific speech. Personal and profound. Desired and essential.

BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!

Trickster Swenson lures us in with promises of a denouement and instead drops one exquisite final bomb.

After another. And another.

Swenson could have easily titled this WILLIS AGE 32 because we get the full view a shattered man whose hellish love was the best he could manage. He’s tragic on many levels. The good thing about tragic figures is they only require our understanding, not our forgiveness.

Joey’s catharsis and the Imaginary Friend’s final monologue provide a powerful conclusion to an unforgettable cycle.

I felt the previous JOEY internation had the makings of a masterpiece.

AGE 11 is where it becomes one.

Swenson begins with 11-year-old Joey looking up at rock bottom, unsure if death is preferable to escape. We usually get glimpses of his abuser/father Willis, enough to know he’s more than a simple monster, but here we see his damaged (still unforgivable) heart. Abuse survivors everywhere will recognize this turning point. There’s a coup de théâtre at the end that simply staggers.

As a standalone, JOEY 11 is atom bomb. As a culmination, it shatters planets

There’s a fundamental mystery with the Imaginary Friend that I find quiet fascinating. The ambiguity of what the character knows and remembers, how they exist at all, remains an effective window. Their narration both ratchets the stakes and stick the landing.

Swenson propels his theatricalized memoir toward its crisis moment: the outside world is beginning to notice what Joey is too close to see. Joey himself manages to weaponize Willis’ abuse as a negotiating tool The specificity of the storytelling keeps tensions high, eliciting chills in one’s bone and a hot rage in one’s heart.

Math is the universal language. Complex and simple equations, hash marks on a wall, a scoreboard. They literally keep accounts. Who’s winning? How many times has he hit me vs how many times did it hurt? How many years does it take to forget a parent’s face?

Numbers have power. They can be used to assess risk and project rewards. Numbers are strategy. Joey loves numbers. They provide him a lifeline to sanity if not safety. Swenson gives us a horrific poetic word problem. Yhe solution is still far away but here, amidst the agony, lies hope.

Oh… my… heart!!!

Bray has fashioned an elegant valentine in this earnest, delicate, absolutely beautiful tale of neurodivergent romance. Accurate without affectation, Taylor and Molly almost speak two different languages: one of light and one of color. Together they bridge the tiny but significant chasm between them with as much clarity and heart as they can muster.

And hey, when someone misses you enough to steal a light fixture from a coffeehouse, they deserve a chance to find the right colors for their words. It’s really that simple.

A perfect little play.

If I were sitting at the table next to this foursome I would pay no attention to the people I was with.

Their conversation reads like eavesdropping. The flow and the ebbs – and the ebbs are dangerous and many - escalate just perfectly. There were several guffaws, and at one point a character left and I shouted out loud for the rest of them to run!

I’m so glad they didn’t hear me.

A ten-minute joy ride with well-drawn characters you’d be happy to drink with. Our next to.

Utter mayhem!

Lipschutz plops us into the throes of the pandemic when Zoom meetings made wearing pants to work obsolete.

PARADISE!
Which also means trouble.

The play takes the circumstances of and around work-from-home culture to dizzying extremes. You’ll both relate to this Zoom meeting and thank God you weren’t on it.

A thrill ride!

Sharp witted and sharply observed, this is an elegant monologue about the possibilities of romance, sex, and connection later in life. It’s no wonder it’s been produced so often. Simple to stage and a tour de force for the performer, SLOW DATING is a crowd pleaser that stays with your heart and your head well after the ride home.