Recommended by Doug DeVita

Mia McCullough’s unflinching look into the grisly world of corporatized death is at once clinically detached and deeply affecting; managing to find a semblance of humanity in a somewhat inhumane subject matter, her vividly natural dialogue and deceptively complex characters give the play a compelling edge that drives the narrative forward, making it a page turner if you’re reading it, and – I imagine – keeps you on the edge of your seat listening to every word if you’re watching it. And damn, I would love to be in the audience one day.

“Maybe he wanted something more than what he could get from a blowup doll…”

That succinct bit of dialogue sums up one of the funniest, blackest comedies I’ve read in a while. Jaw dropping in its painstakingly painful audacity and beautifully mordent one liners, Kendall nimbly keeps the tables turning on his three deliciously distinct characters, and the uglier things become the more hilarious it gets. We laugh even as we wince at the pain these three inflict upon themselves, willingly or otherwise. And you’ll never think about Idaho the same way again (if you ever do.)

Dueling crossword puzzles? I’m in, especially when they’re as witty and erudite as these two. Let me ask you, Donna: did you write this by hand first? In ink? I hope so.

Imaginative, theatrical, and disturbingly prescient, Max Gill gives us a cautionary tale cloaked in thought provoking magical realism that warns but doesn’t preach. Wonderfully entertaining, at times heartbreakingly so, and oh, so smart.

It’s a cool morning here in New York, and yet after reading this play I feel the need to blast every air conditioner in the place. Jonte’s astonishing mix of elegantly sensual and rough, feral language creates and sustains a mood of lust and longing one is powerless to resist; the effect is both disturbing and irresistible. I shall now take a cold shower. And then, most likely, read this again.

Julie D’Aubigny’s story is fascinating, a natural for stage and film; her 17th century exploits as a cross-dressing swords(wo)man lend themselves to epic, swashbuckling, and romantic storytelling. Monica Cross, like D'Aubigny, has a wonderfully individual style, and her ability to bring a sense of magical wonder to D’Aubigny’s already highly theatrical tale gives her work here an edge over most other iterations of this story. It’s long, yes, but endlessly fascinating, and moves so rapidly it makes for a most exciting read, and I imagine will be equally as exciting to see performed.

Cinematic in structure, Alice Josephs’ COMMERCIAL ROW plays out with the glee of an all-star caper film. Josephs carefully layers her diverse characters and dovetails them into an ever-tangling web of financial wheeling and dealing in early 21st century London. With its wonderfully wry British flavor, COMMERCIAL ROW reminds one of Lucy Prebble’s ENRON, or Caryl Churchill’s SERIOUS MONEY, yet it stands firmly on its own as a farcical, dark satire of a specific time and place.

With wild theatricality and potently thoughtful provocation, Emma Goldman-Sherman delves into the personal pain of being a woman in a “man’s” world and creates another stunning, angry – and necessary – work of art.

A young woman selling flowers on a street corner? Named Eliza? Sound familiar? Unlike George Bernard Shaw’s heroine, this Eliza (or Elisa… She’s Eliza in the synopsis, but Elisa in the script) is well spoken but has no apparent thirst for an education with which to expand her mind or better herself. In an exquisitely crafted near-monologue, Cooperman deftly exposes the lack of critical thinking skills and intellectual curiosity, as well as the willfully arrogant stupidity of the self-satisfied, plaguing contemporary society. It’s an extraordinary tour de force for an actress, and an education in itself.

Oh this is so much silly fun! A delightfully tongue-in-cheek spoof of a bumbling late 19th century detective who is not quite as sharp as his more famous rival, the jokes pile up fast and furious, and the double twist at the end – while not quite killer – is hilariously satisfying nonetheless. A treat for the performers and their audiences, this would also make a great audio play.