Recommended by Vince Gatton

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.

This short play about two people facing imminent nuclear annihilation manages a difficult trick: it’s very funny without turning its premise into a gag. The emotional stakes remain hugely real throughout, which heightens both the horror of it AND the humor. (Recording a final video message to their children is emotionally agonizing; the need for repeated retakes is human and hilarious.) I had forgotten this real-life incident at first, but what a terrific idea to examine: what would you have said or done or confessed, had it been you?

What a lovely and powerful short play. The competing perspectives between Jerome, an elderly Black man, and Ali, a young Somali refugee, are loaded with history, wonder, pain, joy, and mutual love & respect. Both in their own way strangers in a strange (very white) land, the bond they share is tender and beautiful -- as is this play's understanding of how love and critique of a people and a place can (and possibly must) co-exist.

Christian St. Croix's short story about two estranged siblings teems with resentment, betrayal, secrets, frustrated ambitions, fully-realized dreams -- and so much love, wounded and otherwise. There's also plenty of humor, grounded in terrific, specifically-rounded characters who behave like, well, people. St. Croix's mastery of the unspoken moment is a particular joy: in addition to a very physical climactic confrontation and one hilariously well-timed prop retrieval, there are many telling non-verbal gestures in play here, one in particular of such grace and sensitivity that it took my breath away. Highly recommended.

People either love Chekhov, or don’t get why anyone loves Chekhov. Christiane Swenson has pulled off something really special with Chebutykin, a modern-ish sorta-prequel to The Three Sisters that should delight both camps. Its irreverent language and overt theatricality bring the Prozorov household to hilarious life, while still feeling 100% true to these deeply beloved characters. This, we will say at the bar afterwards over too many drinks, THIS, all this humor and pathos and just, like, LIFE, man, is what’s already there in Chekhov; Swenson has now given us all a new lens through which to see it.

At once absurd and absurdly relatable, the premise here is loaded with comedic potential, and Toby Malone mines it for everything it’s got. Excellently sustained and escalated, the interpersonal tensions and physical comedy bits build at a satisfying clip, all while subtly examining the very real push-and-pull of sharing with another person your space, your book, your life. A delightfully aggravating and nonetheless loving examination of marriage. (Toby Malone, get the hell out of my bedroom.)

This is so much damn fun, its characters’ easy breezy likability and charm so powerful, you’d think DC Cathro was a wizard at dialogue or something. He definitely casts a spell with these two, making comedy and romance look easy when we all know they’re not. If I had magic powers, I’d give Margie and Duane a full series pick-up.