Recommended by Doug DeVita

A mesmerizing, deeply moving memory play set on the 100th birthday of a Holocaust survivor who has been living with the horror, and the questions, of an action he took in his youth. Sansone-Braff gets under the skin of this man’s memories, bringing us along with gentle but relentless force; by the end we’re spent, crying, more than a bit horrified, and asking ourselves “would we have done the same, had we listened to our inner voices?”

This reimagining of the mythological character Clytemnestra’s story in contemporary idioms is a wildly theatrical tour de force – for the playwright, and for any directors, design teams, and performers lucky enough to be involved in a production of it. On the page it stuns with its creativity; on the stage I can only imagine exciting it will be. Oh, how I’d love to be in the audience for this when it inevitably gets produced!

Husband, house, a mortgage, a baby… and a ghost? Most relationships are haunted, to some extent, both by the memories of past relationships and the “is this all there is?” boredom of hard-fought domesticity. But whose ghost is doing the haunting? Whose self-doubt is doing the damage? Gatton’s nifty thriller, a real “popcorn play” if there ever was one, ratchets up the tension, the doubt, and the stakes – almost imperceptibly at first, but faster and faster until one is left breathless, their box of Cheez-Its empty, and their nails bitten to the quick. Well done, Vince!

A parody of those overly melodramatic, color-soaked Douglas Sirk “women’s pictures” of the 1950s and the Public Television pseudo-personalities who host such films during their “Pledge Weeks,” this pointed comedy wears its satiric edge smartly, like the latest Edith Head designed cocktail dress. Arch dialogue, overly expository setups, brilliant double entendres, barely concealed period racism, and best of all, perfectly pitched pledge breaks… all are lampooned with lethally funny precision, and what a hoot it would be to attend a performance; a gifted cast and director could have a field day with this material. Such fun!

Absolutely delightful fun, for readers, for actors, for audiences… Weibezahl condenses all the tropes of noir into a crisply hilarious 15 pages, and the final line… well, it’s just plain brilliant. Ice, anyone?

A beautifully theatrical tribute to a beautifully theatrical friend, written by a beautifully theatrical playwright. Moving, and so, so deeply from the heart, this monologue is just so true it hurts. And heals.

The hypocrisy and denial that go hand in hand amongst many members of the blindly religious is parsed brilliantly in this emotionally devastating monologue; while the payoff is not exactly a surprise, it still stuns with its blunt rawness – it’s like walking into a dark room knowing that turning on the light will shock, but once the decision to enter is made it must be followed through: no matter the toll, living in the light is better than living darkness. Isn’t it?

How can one resist a line like “I told you soy sauce was not meant to be done in shot form?” That’s just one of many wonderful moments in Rachel Feeny-Williams’ sweet and tangy short play, as a group of women, strangers at first, bond over bad boyfriends, wine, and dumplings at a restaurant on Chinese New Year. It might not pass the Bechdel test, but who cares when the work is as magical and touching as this? And now I want Chinese take-away for lunch.

As Stephen Sondheim once lyricized: “Hey, old friends, how do we stay old friends? Who is to say, old friends, how an old friendship survives?” And the answer, as it has always been, is “who the hell knows?” And it is both the joy and heartbreak of once close friendships reuniting that Max Berry captures so poignantly; there’s a “lived-in” feeling that both stings and salves permeating the piece like a Whit Stillman comedy; its verisimilitude is both touching and grating – in the best way. And it's wonderful.

Ladybugs and centipedes and slick political maneuverings – tween style – add up to deliciously nasty fun, with some astute things to say about grown up politics as well. Children will listen, indeed.