Recommended by Doug DeVita

Folschinsky has slyly, shrewdly, and smartly turned his delightful stage play into an equally delightful radio play; nicely tightened and revised to fit the audio format, the meta-ness of the live television show setting being portrayed only by sound heightens and sharpens the comedy, and those sound effects! They’re glorious. In either version, this script is a winner.

Good God, what a delightfully funny farce! Ribald humor abounds, heightened by its setting of a live TV show for children, and the pace just keeps accelerating until one can’t breathe from laughing at the antics of Folschinsky’s desperately, absurdly lovable characters. I’d love to see this performed, as I imagine the cast would be having so much fun it would make the experience for the audience that much more wonderful.

This may be Emma Goldman-Sherman’s most intimate work yet; a funny and pointed, and quietly devastating battle with oneself during a telephone call with a very close relative. A tour de force for an actress to perform, and an emotional roller-coaster for her audience to experience.

It’s what isn’t said that resonates most powerfully in this beautiful short piece from Mabey, and what is said is said with extraordinarily smart dialogue; the combination is quite impressive, some of Mabey’s most moving work. The two roles are gifts for their performers, and the whole things reads (and plays) like a dream.

Intense, intimate, and mesmerizing, this short play perfectly captures the adolescent dance two boys have with their sexuality, their identity, and their place in the world and with each other. Beautifully handled throughout, with two terrific roles for teenaged boys.

I fuckin’ screamed with laughter reading this fuckin’ brilliant one-minute summation of the words according to Mamet. Fuckin’ A!

What is both ingenious and horrifying about this short play is how funny it is; one could very easily see someone like Carol Burnett having a field day with this character, an unabashed busy body and racist; setting this in the 1950s may excuse the character’s ignorance but it does not soften the blows, nor should it. An exquisite piece of writing.

This battle between a bitter, prickly realist and an idyllic, hopeful dreamer hits some really sharp notes: how does one want to be remembered by their hometown, what is anyone’s responsibility to their fame, can you get a good cup of coffee outside a big city…? What I love most about this script is that Richter doesn’t give us the answers, nor does he give us a conveniently happy ending. Just one with a glimmer of hope. And that’s, well… perfect.

Richter nails all the inherent, fundamental ways this past year has fucked with our psyches, especially as we relate to other people; the damage is real and will be long-lasting. What he also nails is our inherent, fundamental humanity that will keep us moving forward, regardless. I loved every word of this touching, deeply felt script, and would love to see it staged.

Obsessive compulsive behavior is often mined for its comic possibilities, and Max, the protagonist in Adam Richter’s charming comedy NOODLES, is a treasure trove of desperate dysfunction. What really gives this short play its edge, though, is Max’s anxieties, fears about re-entering the world after a year of pandemic related isolation, re recognizably real. This sharp undercurrent shapes and colors the play, giving something that could’ve been a comic jab at OCD a deeper relevance. We feel for Max, and we recognize his fears as our own as we come out of this very unfortunate year.