Recommended by Christopher Soucy

I am a sucker for the behind the scenes drama of a TCM documentary piece. Scott Sickles manages to put a clip show onstage! Brilliantly, I might add. The characters are hilarious.

Mythology is rarely kind to women. The best myths are layered with some lesson about the world we live in. Here, Jillian Blevins masterfully blends the curses of petulant gods with the grief of all too familiar wrongs. This play is a brilliant renewal of purpose for characters often relegated to their own misery. A dynamic play with wondrous tones of empathy for victims.

Puppets are magical. This play pits the power of puppetry against the power of grief. Here we see how artists feel deeply and often forget to vent properly. Brenton Kniess gives us a puppet show to remember.

At first there was an Emperor’s New Clothes feel to the piece, but then it goes full Prillaman. Those unfamiliar with what “going full Prillaman” is, it’s illegal in most states and doubly so on Tuesdays. This is the perfect play to bring out a dark giggle.

Tough love. That’s what they called it when I was a kid. It usually was an excuse for an adult to be rotten to their kid. This short play is a little bit of tough love in return. Of course, “love” is probably not the best word for what Marty and his father share. A fun bit of “turnabout is fair play.”

In every life a little rain must fall. Try as we might, we cannot stop the rain. Here, Rachel haunts us with parental dread, heartbreak, and sorrow. A powerful punch to the gut in a short piece of theater.

This is a holiday gift that keeps on giving. A melting pot of cultural celebration coupled with a “no room at the inn” dilemma for an expectant mother and her husband. Deb Cole gives us a tour of the myriad of winter holidays that define us, and here they bring us together.

The nightmare of older fragments of script invading later drafts is on full display here. Characters are haphazardly motivated, and even mutilated, to high comic effect. Busser gives us a wink and nod as he tortures actors with mismatched drafts of a work in progress. Well played John, well played.

One hopes that at some point we will each get to speak our peace. We don’t always know what to say when we are given the chance to impart the wisdoms we may have gathered. There is ample heartbreak and even more heart in this monologue. Miranda Jonte writes like words are bandages wrapped around deep wounds. We can see the blood, but we can also see that care has been taken to try and heal. I truly enjoy reading her work.

What fun show! Sam Heyman pointed me in the direction of this feat of comic timing. The beauty of the theatrical device at work in this play is that it requires little financial effort but tremendous skill and talent to strike the right rhythm. Briliant.