Recommended by Doug DeVita

This short play is a charming and light rom-com until suddenly it’s not, and becomes a sobering, tautly written, and oh-so-contemporary comment on the uneasy world in which we’re living.

Deliciously creepy fun, and a smart satire on the mania for celebrity worship. And when the celebrity turns the tables... watch out! Angelina Jolie in full-on Maleficent mode? Well she isn’t William Holden dealing with Lucy Ricardo at The Brown Derby. She’s fierce. As is this wonderfully intense and hilarious short play.

To those of us who have (or had) to deal with the decline of our elderly parents, Middleton’s play is a gift, as it allows us to cherish those moments we have (or had) with them. Both lovely and painful, it’s universality makes it deeply affecting and ultimately healing.

I believed in Alyssa from the get-go. And I applauded her. And I applaud Emma for writing this play. It's an angry work of genius. Justifiably, necessarily angry. And I am ashamed that men can be so simple.

As a rape victim, this stunning play hit hard and fast. Should be produced constantly.

There is core of melancholy In this terrific 10-minute piece — a sadness and longing that heightens the humor and emotions, giving the play such heart. What could have been creepy is instead touching and real, right up to that kicker twist at the end. Wonderful.

Take a theme of sex vs. love during a time of intense, forced closeness, make one of the couple someone questioning her sexuality, and then set it during a political campaign, and voila: DRAMA. Cirone's tense, taut two hander is both funny and serious, and perfectly captures the emotions of a heightened time, and provides two great roles for women.

Another winner from Goldman-Sherman. Funny, sad, truthful, and an accurate portrayal in how the underlying tension of the holiday season brings a certain desperation to the fore. As always, she writes with a keen wit and precision; her characters are at their best when they’re at their worst — usually hilariously so — but they are always presented as human beings with recognizable foibles, which makes them sympathetic, and lovable.

What is remarkable about this play — and there are many remarkable things about it, not the least of which is its expert mix of humor and fear — is its timelessness. From the fictional Miss Havisham to the all-too-real Ted Cruz, the inclination to self-quarantine for whatever reasons (fear, paranoia, insecurity, insanity...) is a universal occurrence, and there’s hardly an era in which there hasn’t been a reason and/or a desire to hide from the world. Hayet nails these impulses with smart and snappy dialogue and characters who are charming and relatable. A smart, funny, and frightening work.

"Place: Somewhere else. Possibly heaven. Possibly not."

And with that wonderfully sly description, Bicknell starts the reader (and/or audience) on an equally wonderful, and witty, journey into a post-life bit of reckoning for Hamlet's mother Gertrude, from his spurned love Ophelia. The venom flows, the accusations fly, and Gertrude's obtusely defensive denials mount with each line while one is left to simply sit back and marvel at Bicknell's wordplay, a darkly comic feast of Shakespearean proportions. Such nasty fun!