Recommended by Vince Gatton

Visceral, raw desire gets filtered through a magnificently dexterous verbal brain in this scorching solo piece. Rarely have I seen animal eroticism expressed so unapologetically, so nakedly, and yet with such precise and adept use of language - onstage this would be a hell of a ride for both performer and audience. Call the fire department, Miranda Jonte is here to burn the house down.

I felt uneasy from the get-go of this encounter on a train-station bench, my unease made all the more palpable by the easy charm and wit in the banter of these characters. What, I thought, is going on here? When the answers, such as they are, start to come, what was uneasy turns outright unsettling -- but also weirdly empathetic. Prickly, dangerous, funny, and fragile are the people of Elisabeth Giffin Speckman's world, and I'm here for all of it.

Emotional and environmental catastrophe strike at once for two star-crossed lovers in this lovely and sad short play. Sickles is a master of keeping his eye on relationships and emotional truth within genre trappings - whether it’s horror, scifi, crass teen comedy, or the magical realism he’s working with here - making Kelian and Louis’s moment alone deeply moving amid the rushing danger. (Also, the specifics of body type add a fresh, interesting layer to the interspecies dynamic: what it means to Louis, with his greater mass, to be the one cradled, held, and possibly rescued.) Beautiful.

Huge things are happening in LANG, both within this flat and without: DC Cathro captures the moment when a marriage and a nation both stand on a knife’s edge, and nothing will ever be the same again. Those familiar with Fritz Lang’s German Expressionist classic Metropolis will likely find echoes of its characters and beats and moments here, which is surprising to say about a “small” marital drama; but there they are, in big emotional gestures which nonetheless feel human-sized, real, and painfully true. Intimate and enormous at once, LANG packs a punch.

Weird, wonderful, funny, and delightfully grotesque when it wants to be, this highly theatrical site-specific story about a particular ghost legend becomes a larger meditation on how we shape and re-shape our ghost stories and myths, finding and creating meaning according to our time and needs. Really fun.

As a fan of horror movies, I absolutely loved this homage to/evisceration of the tropes of the genre. With great humor, genuine tension, and a solid respect for twists, this short takes aim at the relentlessly unforgiving nature of horror-movies-as-morality tales, and I’m here for all of it.

In Function, Duncan Pflaster has given us a twisty, philosophical, menacing, sexy, delicious, witty, thought-provoking sci-fi cat-and-mouse standoff. You’ll perhaps be reminded initially of the opening scene in Blade Runner, but the more voluble pair here have much more complex and wide-ranging concerns behind all their questions and answers, evasions and confessions. Unnerving and strangely beautiful, Function entertains, challenges, and richly rewards.

Feral does a thing I love, which is telling me a lot by telling me almost nothing. I don’t know what’s going on in Chelsea’s life, really, or Madison’s, or their mother’s, or why they’re as stuck as they are; what I do know is that this moment between adult sisters is funny, sweet, sad, utterly believable, and, in its quiet way, a turning point for both of them. Deceptively simple, cunningly structured, and very satisfying.

Hilarious premise, snappy as hell dialogue, and a genuine feel-good ending? SOLD. And while those alone would probably be enough for a lot of people, the fact that this little story also has genuine relationship dynamics, obstacles, stakes, a climax, and that growth & change we so like to talk about...elevates it beyond a mere sketch to being a sheer winner of a short play. Program this sucker into your festival, this has Crowd Favorite written all over it. (THEY'RE NEANDERTHALS NAMED ROCKEFELLER AND PHOEBE, WHAT AM I MADE OF, STONE???)

This is so damn good. I'm Kentucky-born and -raised, now living in New York City, and while my demographics don't match those of the terrific character of Amy Singh, my god how her perspective resonates. The push and pull of loving something that comes bundled with so much you deplore; of art that speaks to you, but springs from a culture that despises you; the weary toll of loving something that doesn't love you back...Gill captures it here in a bravura act of courage, intelligence, humor, compassion, and longing. (The Jones/Pride anecdote alone is gutting.) Brilliantly done.