Recommended by Tom Moran

An appealing, progressive slice-of-life set against a truly weird backdrop. Sometimes period pieces are at their most effective when they shed light onto a little-known place or time, and this brief sojourn to the Yukon-Pacific Exposition certainly fits the bill. Kudos for Stubbles for bringing it to life.

As this funny, breezy piece demonstrates, there are a lot of laughs to be mined from large-scale political legal tomfoolery metastasizing at the local level. Kendall does a fine job taking an absurd situation and running with it, which is perhaps one of the most effective and rewarding things one can do in the 10-minute format. Well worth a read.

Like my fellow commenters, I saw episodes 1-3 at a theatre conference and was sucked in. And this is from someone who genuinely hates reality TV and everything it was engendered (a topic that the play certainly addresses.) It's funny, clever, and really leans into the episodic format, keeping the twists and turns coming, ratcheting up the tension, and regularly topping itself. Glad I got a chance to read the whole thing!

There's a real charm about plays that are essentially monologues because one character knows better than to say anything, and this one encapsulates that quite well. It's sweet and tender and honest and true, and quite funny to boot. Also a great closing line.

Just heard this at a playreading and it went over gangbusters. A really fun script that energetically pokes fun at Zoom while taking clever advantage of some of its features (backgrounds especially) to make the piece work.

A solid entry into the "omigod I need to get out of this date" pantheon, which veers off in a pleasantly unexpected direction at the end. Good fun and lots of laughs as the male lead talks himself deeper and deeper into a hole with both his date and the audience. And kudos for coming up with a truly ridiculous sub-sub-sub-genre of fanboyism. L.I.W. would be proud.

A compelling mix of humor and pathos, this uses Orson Welles' celebrated Paul Masson period as the springboard to the broken-down actor reflecting on happier days. In the larger sense, it's a poignant story about the impermanence of fame and how hard it can be to put aside past glories and accept the present for what it is.

A tender and honest monologue, lovingly and sweetly told. Not to mention an interesting rumination on the different ways we interpret pop culture and how it can shape us in ways we don't even understand, at least at the time.

Through a Pythonesque progression of ideas that start out small and well-meaning and grow larger and more defensive, a Hamlet production morphs into something unrecognizable (but, to say the least, intriguing.) There are laugh lines galore as we watch everything spin delightfully out of control. Dry as a bone and an all-around hoot.

A great satire. Like the best 10-minute plays, it takes an absurd idea and runs with it. A well-constructed three-hander with effortless exchanges, the promise of good stage spectacle via some terrible dancing, and a perfect final line. As a side note, my town actually has a bar called "The Library," though they don't check out books (yet.)