Recommended by Michael Goodwin Hilton

Everything I've read about this play is true. A stunning portrait of morality, suppression, innocence lost, and the unbreakable bonds among outcasts. Each character is sculpted with terrific depth, and the world is carefully built through clear actions and deftly managed backstory to create a haunted silhouette of a community at the edge of the earth and somehow also at the very heart of it. An ending that will haunt and inspire me for a long time to come.

A challenging and chilling collage of voices reporting on unspeakable traumas across time, at times discordant and at others harmonious; a provocative piece that disturbs us into a discourse we might rather avoid but which, through Emma's sensibility and artistry, we are impelled to engage, carry, and at least try to understand.

Foregrounding a seldom-discussed brain disorder, the play, in its gentle and unassuming way, takes a battering ram to any cynical notion of love being a mere habit of association. Capodicasa submits a powerful and persuasive argument that beauty transcends the eye of the beholder, and that in our visually jaded culture it is still conceivable to love each other through spirit. Funny, thoughtful, tender, sad, and rendered with a singularly poetical voice, "You Remind Me Of You" reassures that there are still uncharted territories in the theatre as well as writers creative and capable enough of navigating them.

A large-hearted ensemble piece that offers a fresh and very funny vision of contemporary reading culture - in all its embattled and enchanted glory. At the end of each uncanny corridor, the characters often find the last thing they were expecting but the only thing they actually need, the same which most of us can recall from our most important reading experiences. A thoughtful, energetic play that will delight any audience!

Wildly inventive and relevant in both obvious as well as unsuspecting ways. While foregrounding the outrageous yet deceptively endearing trials of Rob and Missy's relationship, the play manages to probe something much deeper in our society: the unprecedented disjointing of the actual self from the presented one. A phenomena nurtured by emoji culture, whose consequences can be felt in misleading poll figures and our general weariness of one another. The play doesn't concede to defeat, however; in fact, through its dynamism of language and action, the audience is expected to respond critically and creatively to find its own way forward.

A taught, impeccably structured, deeply compelling story about the driving absences at the heart of family - the things left unsaid, the things that perhaps could never be said, the ideas we seldom live up to for the people who matter to us the most. The play refuses to allow any character, no matter how culpable, come across as one-dimensional. It should be read and staged for audiences across the country, for audiences of all ages, because there's something in it for everyone and someone in it you've surely met before.

The play opens on a domestic wasteland where we behold a vision of American ruins as collapsed and littered brand names, where the post-material world is more lucidly defined than the post-human one. Two women who may or may not be related exchange their anonymity for roles in a game that manages to become more absurd the closer it approximates the quotidian. As comical as it is frightening, as disorienting as it is instantly recognizable. There is something of Beckett, something of Shepard, something of Kane and Marsha Norman, and something we haven't quite seen before. Must-read/see!

At the beginning, Orville gently cajoles his unnamed daughter to make a sound, any sound, to communicate. This scene brilliantly sets up a play in which each character struggles to recognise and express exactly what is going on inside them, whether it is Brenda trying to explain her failing marriage, Ian struggling to confess what he's done, Walter attempting to speak openly with his son, or Orville coming to terms with his sense of grave responsibility. The arc from isolation to openness, from supression to communicativeness, is strikingly clear and poignant. A tremendous play in every respect! Read, produce immediately!

An inventive, provocative short play that captures, with brief yet masterful strokes, the disillusion and uncertainty and also the profound courage of the #metoo era. It invites men as well as women to enter into meaningful discussion, and while the resolution appears to stop short of further proactiveness, the piece suggests that the willingness to begin speaking about abuse is in itself a triumph. Ideal for any festival of shorts!

Written with a kind of gritty gracefulness, like grinding feathers between your teeth, and anchored by a disquieting accuracy of how the very means by which we try to relieve our loneliness - that is, language - is often the same means by which we manage to reinforce it. This play stands with David Markson's "Wittgenstein's Mistress" in its singularly original, heartbreaking, and somehow deeply encouraging vision of human aloneness. Highly, highly recommended!