Recommended by Hal Corley

In every way haunting, the play's modified epistolary form is expertly mined for character revelation and "only connect" moments that are heartrending. The use of the oceanographic lexicon as the poetry of a slowly developing, fully earned love story is brilliantly original, eccentric yet recognizable; as Sickles' multidimensional people demonstrate so eloquently, in youth more than any other time, we reach our hearts through our budding intellect. These two boys, achingly yearning and unfiltered, find one another under the sea, the science downright magical; their shared badinage becomes as potent as Cyrano's extemporanea. Endearing characters, unforgettable storytelling.

Endearing and structurally ambitious, this quadtych offers glimpses of overlapping lives with almost novelistic reach. By focusing on distinct eras and the implications of shared crises, quotidian and existential, the story assuredly acquires layers. The sublime period details are both recognizable and eclectic (Broadway's "Over Here" and "The Joy of Gay Sex," together!) When Phillip ages his young characters via adult fiction, Phillie grows up with them, a lovely grace note. In DeVita's forgiving world, time is not only a thief, but also sometimes a great tenderizer, wearing down our gnarliest of edges. Rangy, emotionally satisfying, damn near epic.

A perfect, economical glimpse of budding adolescence seasoned with the sad waning days of childhood, "Stand By Me" meets "Summer of 42." The minimalism is expert. Not a wasted word, and the words are age-specific and smart. The use of pre-swim/post-meal impatience, food allergies, the telling details are all, well, telling. Three small canvas portraits, ideally drawn. A little gem, both sweet and provocative.

An almost operatic ride by the end, its power the ability to go deeper as it aims wider, and actually opens and expands before our eyes. Burrowing deeply into the Kendrick family as a specific handful of people, not 2016 archetypes, the play expertly captures the volatile climate, that daily tension between external political developments and internecine domestic warfare of every flavor. Formidable as an American portrait, ultimately by its close, almost epic. Like Emily Mann's "Execution of Justice" it transcends the ripped-from-the-headlines genre, even as we appreciate the harrowing headlines that fold into it. Ambitious, eye-opening -- and heartbreaking.

This funny, heartfelt, remarkably agile, and finally provocatively subversive play is a genuine beauty, built on a compelling construct, a wine and book club sojourn vs time-capsuled denizens of a 1940s brothel. Marie, our richly drawn, multifaceted protagonist meets her match in Bertha, who has an August Wilsonian world-weary grace. The mix of bewilderment and curiosity as these two school one another in the tropes and threats of Jim Crow vs. 2017 is masterful. Time travel itself is the ultimate poetic metaphor, a building riff until suddenly the journey deepens, making our experience of these shared worlds even fuller. Extraordinary.

An intricately woven piece, both heartfelt and intellectually focused; the precision is especially masterful, every moment is positioned and honed to serve the whole. The central, core relationship -- Ben and Connor -- and their resulting dialectic about the morality of Aleppo and the fungible definition of heroism is a compelling one. And they are pushed up against a powerful force, Qamer, a unique and distinctive (anti-) heroine, one we lean forward in our seats to hear and learn from. Strong storytelling; formidable work, eloquent and highly theatrical.