Recommended by Zach Barr

"Tea is gay. Food is sex. Phone is love."
A darling little tinderbox of a ten minute, effortlessly capturing Doyle's language and utilizing it to gripping effect.

A bravura attempt to capture the whole of Fitzgerald's story in a mere handful of scenes, and in the process transforming it into something it could never be in its day. Nick as narrator is enrapturing, in his tortured decisions on what to leave in or out of his retelling, while the adjustments to the original text (major and minor alike) slot in without distracting the viewer. Accessible to those who haven't read the book, and rewarding for those of us familiar with it.

As thematically dense as Fitzgerald's novel, while streamlining the narrative and folding in modern resonances – Kantor's adaptation is a masterful translation of the spirit of the novel to the stage. I was buzzing while reading, in awe of how much care has been put into not just what story the audience will hear, but how they will hear it. The addition of skipping music as a device is inspired. As fast and imaginative as Gatsby himself, but more careful than he ever was.

Jadhwani has an expert ear for translating older stories to the stage in a manner that captures their vibrancy, while giving them a modern dramatic sensibility. A jewel of a script centered on one of Poirot's lesser-known cases, written with enormous potential energy for actors and designers to make it their own. It will keep you tense the whole while, and release you out of the theatre with a knowing grin.

It's a testament to Christie's sharp focus as a playwright that their adaptation can be at once faster and funnier than Woolf's novel, without de-emphasizing its elusive, sneaky exploration of identity. Viewing Orlando as a protagonist denied the ignorance of all gendered expectations, it's a story about how all things are evolving – our views on gender, our national borders, our pantheon of artists, and our own identities. Enormous opportunities for every artist involved.

Like a political cartoon yanked disturbingly into a third dimension, Lawler's play is an unhinged fable about the perils of trusting a system designed to betray you. A wild ride from start to finish, yet still anchored by Winifred, a compelling protagonist whose point of view gives this inky world its intriguing splashes of paint. I'm desperate to see a director and designers even attempt to stage it. But, someone, please try.

A clever, wordy script that calls back just enough to "Steamboat Willie" to make an audience laugh, while standing on its own legs as a tense noir mystery. Five richly drawn (illustrated?) characters with fascinatingly interlocked motives, all holding onto the belief, however foolish, that when you wish upon a star, your dreams do come true.

A play that exposes the vicious comforts of acquiescing to a cruel, unfair standard, for fear of the consequences of even attempting to break free of it. Kime has her finger on the pulse of modern feminism, and its Kafkaesque arrangement in which every action a woman takes is both a reclamation and a betrayal. Couldn't everyone see they were trapped? Are we going to sit by with our lasagna and do nothing? Produce it tomorrow.

Perhaps the only play I've read that successfully subverts a fundamental rule of storytelling: "show, don't tell." In following two teenagers whose lives interweave, Pak almost exclusively lets the girls tell rather than show, giving the audience only the subtlest glimpses at the trauma below the surface, hidden from themselves as much as from each other. The result is a deeply intriguing play, one that keeps the audience leaning in, even as the girls push each other away.

For 75 rapid minutes, SPIN manages an impossible balance: a script that is bursting with thematic parallels and dense interpersonal relationships, while also being an intricately staged, action-packed performance that will have everyone sweating – the audience from nerves, the actors from exertion. Mountains of opportunity for creative exploration in production.