Recommended by Bethany Dickens Assaf

I had the pleasure of seeing we, the invisibles at the Humana Festival and it seared into my consciousness in a way I can't even describe. The play's beautiful authenticity and bold theatricality dialogue gripped me, but I must confess: it was the honesty and empathy the play uses in exploring a difficult subject that most inspired me as an artist and moved me as a human. There is so much kindness to this play as it engages with tough questions about how to be an ally, how to give voice to others, and how we engage with others' stories.

A play completely arresting in its tone and strange setting, Carnes has crafted a world that is both historic and dystopic, dream-like and yet terribly real. I was so struck by the complexity of the characters, who reveal at least a half-dozen compelling perspectives on women's roles in culture, society, the family, and the state. The most striking thing to me about this brilliant play, though, is how Carnes weaves so many dark topics that were at the center of 1930s consciousness - including eugenics, sterilization, medicated compliance - into a work that feels so authentic and of-the-moment. HIGHLY recommend!

From the very first page, I was completely dialed in to this play's suspenseful, rich tone. The reveal is both rewarding and character-driven, with the duplicity of both Mrs. Page and Miss Harris promising some juicy roles for the actors. A well-executed noir that packs a punch!

I absolutely adored this piece: for a 'very short play,' the characters are enviably well-sketched. The setting is also picturesque and I appreciated that, as a device, it allowed us several windows into the relationship. Authentic, warm, and clever dialogue. Highly recommend!

There's honestly so much to enjoy about this play, which brings authentic, warm, and humorous voices to traditional characters, utilizing them in surprising ways without turning to caricature. I particularly enjoyed getting to know Lord Rellion and his granddaughter, who both share a connection to grief that neither of them fully reckon with. With an unerringly plot (strikingly well-paced and logically structured) and a wonderful blend of gothic action/adventure, this would be brilliant to see onstage!

A gripping and deeply layered story about a family in crisis: "It's What's for Dinner" is one of those plays that feels compellingly naturalistic, but with an unexpected twist that is sure to grab the audience's attention (I don't even want to reveal it here, it's THAT fun and shocking!). What really speaks to me is the empathy of this piece and the complexity that Holton brings to even the most heartless of characters. Also, the ending manages to be both satisfying and ambiguous (as well as gorgeous) - quite a feat!

"Incorrigible" makes a compelling argument for forgiveness and grace, but without pandering or suggesting that those virtues erase the past or make for an easy future. Robby's journey is gripping and relatable, as the well-meaning but sometimes-stifling intentions of those around him lead to scenes of crackling tension. I particularly enjoyed the relationship between Robby and his distant father: the conversation where the two finally white-knuckle their way through a confrontation is as a powerful as it is heartbreaking. I sincerely appreciated the piece's humor, wit, earned optimism, and well-crafted, well-informed depictions of students and administrators.

An authentic and fascinating examination of three lives, thrown together in unexpected circumstances. The concept is immediately engaging and opens up to reveal fascinating intersections between three personal worlds. The manifold tensions in whether or not to accept help once it arrives leads to some of the most heart-wrenching and gorgeous dialogue I've read in a good while.

Utterly enthralling: Malakhow's four characters bring out multi-fold layers of tension in questions of race and equity gripping a majority-white school. The play utilizes a fully engaging to story to grapple with issues of white fragility, micro(and macro, frankly)aggressions, and the emptiness of certain symbols and rhetoric, to devastating and convicting effect. These characters are impeccably-sketched with empathy and authenticity, but nowhere does the play lose sight of the toxic, white defensiveness that the character of Ben begins to question whether or not we should still be listening to. Malakow's welcome answer is so striking and so needed.

Enough cannot be said of the play's brilliance in weaving together the arc of its engaging protagonist, layered conversations about neurodiversity, and 19th century themes, scholarship, and references. Each inform and enrich the other to heartbreaking effect. Henry is an instantly effective and affecting character: his connection to 19th century British literature is deeply authentic, personal, wonderful, and uncompromising, even as the playwright brings an empathetic lens to the characters grappling to connect with Henry's singular passion. A desperately beautiful work that demands to be performed.