Recommended by Scott Sickles

Literally screamingly funny. Macabre, sick, adorable! Poor Myron. He does what he can but Lucy is an indelible villain! Great fun for any one-play/one-minute play fest! Great shenanigans and a kicker ending!

Any play that portrays people over seventy as having grand passions – for life and love and ambitions large and small – already has me on its side. Levine's central couple are newly in their nineties and still going strong, and his crotchety cook, no spring chicken himself, has aspirations of his own. Defying stereotypes while still embracing the realities of longevity, this delightful play has some lovely jumps, turns, and flips.

"When you love someone, you have to tell them how you feel!" Said every romantic comedy ever.

Leave it to Matthew Weaver to illustrate the counterpoint: "NO, YOU F***ING DON'T!!!"

With the hopeless romanticism of Shanley and the exquisite human tragedy of Chekhov, Weaver takes a classic moment from many a tale of unrequited love, turns it into elegantly detailed expressionism, and leaves our hearts on the floor.

Much like someone who leaves their beloved teddy bear in a box for decades, I am REMISS! I heard this play read a year ago and am only writing this rec now. (Forgive, Jackie Martin! FORGIVE!)

Part of me is glad this happened because I got to reread it. I recalled it being nostalgic and heartbreaking. I didn't remember the funny... and both Teddy and TEDDY are fucking funny! The play itself works on so many layers about grief, regret, growing up, what we leave behind – it's masterful in it simplicity and simply masterful.

I miss my toys.

Every woman knows this man. Some encounter him daily… hourly… every goddamn minute. Men encounter him, too, but it’s not the same. This two-page/one-minute play made me very angry. The more I think about it, the more infuriating it becomes. Syran has crafted a streamlined fable of gender dynamics with quickly escalating tensions and a powerful punch. The symbolism and style dovetailed seamlessly with real life, leaving both the woman and the audience aghast,

While I will never, unless forced by tragic circumstance, tread water in a fjord, I feel that part of Ellida exists within me. Oh, her umbrage! Oh, her DETERMINATION! To succeed against an expectation of failure. To at the very least not be the first to give up. To make my mark in the shadow of others’ accomplishments. Oh, I get it! Her voice rings in solidarity with mine. Her percussive bitching interwoven with effervescent romanticism, then catching herself in the act. The denial-laden crush on a figure of resentment. Syran has created an almost-everywoman and she is glorious!

STUNNING is exactly that, and in more ways than one. Plumridge's imagery first and foremost. He begins with a brilliantly evocative sensory pastoral. The monologue is a reminiscence of nostalgia, regret, and lessons learned. Also in scope, we get two overlapping love stories of father and daughter. Finally, at least for this rec, in complexity, as love, intention, action, consequence, and realisation collide, bringing the past inexorably, irreversibly into the present. A great solo piece for any actor mid-40s and up. Stunning, indeed.

Marvin, where are you when I need you? Alaska, I guess.

Celebrate the holidays with this Man vs Elf Christmas confection. Lermond sends up small town masculinity without condescension and with good old fashioned magic. The roles are fun, the repartee quick and delightful, and the whole thing goes down like a warm mug of cocoa at just the right temperature.

DEATH!!! FRIEND OR FOE???

That's the question – or at least A question – posed by this astoundingly economical pontification the role of death plays in different lives. Is it to be feared or embraced, avoided or weaponized?

I'VE GOT THIS would make a perfect puppet play or animated short. It's a great introduction about practical existentialism, buddhism, mortality, and abundance.

Great characters, a jaunty tone, fun discourse. This play might be a great way to sneak philosophy to kids. (Only one way to find out.) This will be a joy on stage, even with human actors.

If every mud needs its stick and every blanket needs it wetness, then so must every Gale need his Simone. But wait...

Martin creates a rapid-fire early-morning curmudgeon in Simone and a perfect free-spirited foil to her in the robust and robustly naked Gale. There are lessons enough for all, more obviously for Simone and the audience, but for Gale as well: to have greater faith in his powers of persuasion and to trust that the sun will indeed rise and bring warmth where once there was only a chill.

Miracles abound in this love letter to joy.