Recommended by John Busser

I am astonished that greed can so easily trump safety in our culture, and no better example of that exists than this dire situation in Flint. Dana Hall hits the right tone in presenting us with the facts, not in a way to make us switch off (as so many do) and hope it goes away, but by putting a human face to it, and garnering our sympathy. The powerful writing from Dana makes us both angry and inspired to take action, and take it before the plays start to become about US.

I cannot recommend this piece enough. A gut-wrenching look at that most horrific of events, a mass shooting, told through the eyes of both victims and shooter. The first half is telling, as we see the patrons of a nightclub in line, speculating about the others, most likely with no real idea what their hopes, dreams and fears really are. The shooter is there too, the only one who's thoughts center more around himself, which is chilling. In the second half, we learn truths right before the trigger is pulled. It's tragedy on so many different levels.

Bruce Karp makes death an uplifting experience while taking audiences a short diversion into 70's porn (not really, but c'mon Nancy, now isn't the time). This short made me laugh out loud and I wouldn't mind if Karp maybe gives us some other adventures of Max (since Nancy says she will recommend his services to all her girlfriends). Oh, it's going to be a bloodbath.

The Bear has always been the hero Gotham, pardon me, London needs. Here, our Bat-Bear (yes, he's a vampire bear so technically, he's Bat-Bear) saves the day with a new-found ally, Heather. And what an addition she is. I hope Chris Plumridge sees fit to include her in another adventure. Although I suppose the Bear will fly through a series of women, James Bond style. These monologues of the Bear may be intended for radio drama, but what fun they would be to see staged. Vampire bears, sky dancers, giant digging machines... who WOULDN'T want to see that?

Hard to tell who's torturing Sean more; the demon in the afterlife or Sean himself. Peter Fenton distills the issue of being true to yourself into a simple exchange, not to the demon, but to Sean's own doubts about who he really is. And he doesn't like what he's learning. He brings in feelings (which he says he can't control) of disdain for the whole situation. He just wants to be left alone in a world that expects him to be something he doesn't want. Even if our personal journeys are different, Sean's lament could apply to all of us.

It's the end of the world and we STILL can't come together. How human of us. Or, at least, how human of the characters in Rona Moriah's party goers in this short play. The jokes fly fast and furious and are dark as hell considering they won't live to see another sunrise. As an audience member, this would make me think about how I'd spend my last night. Dancing, fainting, fighting, or watching this group try (and fail) to come together and have a damn party. Not the worst way to go out on.

As much as some folks raise their kids to take the initiative, there are still some parents who resent that very same initiative when it doesn't match said parents sensibilities. Lisa Quoresimo gives us one such parent. And in a refreshing turnaround, it's not an out-of-touch dad this time. Lou wants his daughter to stay in touch even as she moves on with her life but mother Sally has a more restrictive take on things. Sally isn't a bad mom, just... not ready to let her daughter take a different path. This is very relatable content given a fresh spin.

I had the distinct pleasure of seeing Samantha’s first play at a staged reading and let me tell you, it went over like gangbusters! Funny as hell, it skewered certain theater patrons we hate, the self-appointed culture snobs who try to tell you what’s worthy of their attention. Sam’s dialogue is spot on and actors will have a blast with these fun roles. A very strong script right out of the gate for a playwright to watch out for.

I have to say, the last line of this play was a shocker. I'm not sure how to take it. That ambiguity throws so much of your expectations out the window. OR DOES IT? This has been my favorite of Marj O'Neill-Butler's bench plays because I thought I knew where it was going (and it goes somewhere wonderful) and then the rug (MAYBE) gets pulled out from under you. That last line is so loaded with possibility, it made my head spin. If this was a choose your own adventure story, I can think of several hundred ways to go.

Man, I always like to read Jacquie's plays for the laugh-out-loud humor and silly wordplay, but then she hits me with sweetness too? TJ needs forgiveness and Kendra is reluctant to give it, but somehow, true love gets the job done. It's got warmth, gentle humor, a small bit of theft (let's face it, if this backyard Stonehenge does it's thing for TJ, I doubt he's giving those stones back willingly) and way more heart than I was expecting. But then, it's from Jacquie Floyd. Of course it's got heart.