Recommended by Doug DeVita

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.

My heart both broke and soared whilst reading this gorgeous piece, possibly Mabey’s best. It’s definitely his most touching play; his delineation of the siblings’ relationship is startlingly acute, as is the relationship between the two grooms. A beautiful play mixed with sadness, tears, love, and hope, and one I would love to experience live. I completely understand how it won an audience favorite award.

Susan Cinoman choreographs a slick, stunning, and strangely beautiful dance of death in this brief, but haunting fantasy. Really wonderfully provocative and alluringly sensual while being brutal and horrifying, her depiction of the unending battle of the sexes strikes through the heart with decisive precision.

The paranoia sets in early in this funny but horrifying metaphor for life early in the COVID 19 era. Plummer keeps us one step ahead of the hapless Stephanie, and the tension – as well as the uneasy laughs – mounts inexorably as we watch helplessly while she falls prey to her roommate from hell Vida’s game of Risk. A great piece for three actors to play, and wonderful challenges for a director and their team abound – the special effects call for some thrilling, and inventive, staging.

Good God, this play is such an inventive, multilayered, disturbing, beautiful, funny, horrifying work of art. Bray captures you right from the start, grabbing you by the throat, really, and never letting go. This is one of those plays I will read again and again, as there is so much to savor, and still see new details each time. Just wonderful.