Recommended by John Patrick Bray

  • Backyard Stonehenge
    31 May. 2024
    If you build a replica of Stonehenge in your yard (using your scary neighbor’s landscape stones without permission), will it make you feel bigger, will it make the wonders of the world feel closer, or maybe just smaller? Priskorn gives us a touching and comedic look at a couple trying to pick up the proverbial pieces after one of them makes an irreversible mistake that costs them not only a trip to see the real thing, but possibly their marriage. Maybe a small Stonehenge can provide a much needed miracle, which may last even after the neighbor finds out.
  • Oldest in the County – A Radio Play
    31 May. 2024
    The way the townsfolk at the local diner talk about RuthAnn, I feel like I know her! What starts as a folksy Our Townish piece takes a deliberate turn. There are secrets Sara has been keeping. A secret. A big one. Fans of Sam Shepard and Horton Foote would do well to check out this truly terrific play by Debra A. Cole - what an ending!
  • Park Benches
    31 May. 2024
    Two strangers on a park bench. One wishes for silence. The other wants to talk about ducks. Whistling ducks, in fact. They mate for life. If one loses the other it’s abject heartbreak. But Agnes is here to let David know that it’s okay. And in doing so reminds us all that when it’s time to let go, there is no defeat in doing so. We the living carry the loss while those who leave may find a peace in their release. Friedman has written a truly resonate piece.
  • Familiar
    31 May. 2024
    LeBlanc’s characters are so richly textured it’s hard to believe this is a work of fiction. My mother-in-law had dementia; moments in this play hit home. Really hard. Leblanc should be commended for handling such a terrifying and heartbreaking issue with such patience and kindness towards his characters. I feel like I know Lou. I highly recommend this work!
  • No More Flowers
    31 May. 2024
    I love the notion that what we see in a work of art is a projection of ourselves, imposing meaning from our own subjective stance, and often how much we (well, men in this case) decide what it is we want to see based on our prescribed notion of an artist based on their gender/sex. Freud, man. Dans Hall turns Freud (and by extension, Lacan) on his head. Mulvey-esque joy. I highly recommend this play!
  • The Butterfly Anchor
    19 Feb. 2024
    It is such a treat to read a play written by someone who is sure in their craft, guiding the reader from one moment to the next, foregrounding rich and nuanced characters who all feel like real people just trying to make sense out of human desires and mortality. Friedman's play is emotionally resonant, but never saccharine. It's honest. The most surprising arc is that of Katherine, Brian's mother; I won't say more here because you should experience the play yourself. These are great roles and I truly hope to see it produced.
    6 Nov. 2023
    Zevon. Female werewolf. Detox. An ice bucket. We watch Wesley attempt to come to the reality of his situation: he is lost. He doesn’t know which city he’s in, but that doesn’t matter. Being lost isn’t about geography. Any city. Every city. There’s the lie of sobriety and the hope for some kind of redemption. Is this pretty young woman a manifestation of himself, someone he lost, or the recognition that without her wearing the mask he himself is the monster in the room? A terrific short play!
  • Did you do the thing yet, Joe?
    29 Sep. 2023
    Spooky. Hilarious. Metatheatrical. Fast. Plausible. Scott Sickles and Arnold. CJS. Too much fun.

    But. I am uncertain.

    Did you do the thing yet, Joe?
  • An Image of Love
    7 Jul. 2023
    A sincere examination of longing and heartache. Marriages are complicated. Messy. Peter and Helen understand the complexities of the heart and how the past can haunt. Triplett writes fully realized characters, and his command of dialogue is so strong it is hard to imagine Peter and Helen aren’t real people. The final tableau is perfect. Truly well done!
  • The Remarkably Unremarkable Crucifixion of Emma Reynolds
    2 Apr. 2023
    I am sitting here, reading this monologue on Palm Sunday. I saw a play earlier this week where a man, telling his life story, said that he has found a way to remain awake while going under anesthesia; he can now feel the drug working and can catch the second before he goes under. He will do the same right before he dies. It unnerved me. Prillaman is doing something similar here. He's catching a moment. An awful moment. And just letting it hang there. Suspended. While life continues all around you.