Recommended by Vince Gatton

Yowza, this play. As a horror-film fan, I’m usually left pretty cold by most theatrical attempts at the genre; but this sucker is deeply unsettling, genuinely terrifying, and sad as hell. And that’s before it takes its big left turn and becomes another kind of play altogether. (Or does it?) Horror is at its best when its metaphors work, and boy does this play understand that — even as it rips the genre constructs aside and takes aim at the power structure of the genre itself.

Don’t even read the keywords; dive in blind and take the ride.

In lesser hands this premise could play out as sketch-comedy or flat-out porn; but Sickles stirs these ingredients in a way that delivers genuine feeling, surprises, and rich characters along with its laughs and heat (neither of which are all that easy to pull off well in the first place.) Stan and Kip’s impulses are complicated and uncomfortable, and their personalities genuinely their own, rather than mere types. The blurry lines between different types of love make for a cringe-y, compelling, and big-hearted play that made me laugh, sit up straight, and nod in recognition.

Hilarious, thoughtful, and true to our weird moment. Lia Romeo gives her characters legit points of view to fight for and never settles for simple parody. Well done.

A gorgeous little piece with magnificent depth. Dorothy Day's prickly, brusque, open-hearted love shines off the page, and this brief encounter with a mysterious young woman brought tears to my eyes. I *think* you'll agree, even if you knew nothing about Dorothy Day -- but if you *do* know about her, I am certain you will love love love this short gem.

This scathing, hysterical, horrifying short piece calls to mind wicked early Durang, or an enraged Ionesco, or Noel Coward wielding a flamethrower on his nearest and dearest. Bonkers and completely sane, it's the perfect poison to capture this present moment -- and maybe all the moments that brought us here, too.

This is so well-constructed I want to study it. There's no way to know at the outset all the insane turns this shocking (and shockingly efficient) short story will take, but by its batshit conclusion you realize how effectively all the tiny breadcrumbs have been deployed to lead you to this terrible place. The most queasy-making play I've ever recommended, and I recommend it highly.

Snowmaker conjures a wintery version of the claustrophobic, paranoid dread of Tracy Letts' BUG, with a jagged and slippery father/daughter dynamic at its heart. A confident and satisfying mix of brutality and compassion radiates from the characters, their language, and from the story as a whole. Would love to see it staged.

Joan of Arc is about to get roasted, but hapless Guy is having trouble getting the spark lit. Koppen manages to satirize contemporary attitudes and jargon at the same time she’s using them to make valid and interesting points about who we’re willing to stick our necks out for and why — or, more importantly, why not. Plus, the thing’s just a damn hoot: her comic dialogue snaps and crackles like the fire that may or may not eventually happen. Thumbs up!

Sartres with heart. An afterlife waiting room scenario with a lot to say about family, history, and self-determination — especially for women. I’m a sucker for acts of kindness on stage, and this little slice of existential hell unexpectedly got me all up in my feelings. Beautifully done.

Packing a similar punch to the best Ray Bradbury short stories, this play is science fiction at its emotionally-weird best. Simple, elegant, funny, romantic, scary, and heart-tugging, it covers a lot of dramatic terrain in a very short time. It also features two characters I quickly came to love, and (in the highest praise I can give as an actor) immediately wanted to play. (Plus: the wide-open-door gender and ethnic casting options for both roles make me want to see it again and again, in all sorts of permutations.)