Recommended by Nelle Tankus

Andrew is a poet, folks. The language throughout this play is gorgeous, and the love between Ro and Prophet didn't just feel real, it felt singular and urgent. With beautiful direction by Valerie Curtis-Newton and an extremely talented cast, the production at Taproot is one that will stick with me for a long time.

Andrew continues to craft intricate and tender worlds filled with people who are as complex as they are personal. As other reviews have stated, the themes of this play are giant - gentrification, anti-Black classism, betrayal, joy, community all working together simultaneously. It feels like Andrew knows each of his characters personally and crafted them with so much love, because a story like this can't be made without care. With this play, and many more to come, Andrew is crafting his own legacy in American theatre. Producers: give him your money!

Restoration, not regret. Death is a portal towards repair, and grief is a kind of medicine. Carol Y. Lee has an uncanny ability to get to the heart of what her characters yearn for, and this play is a prime example of it. As mundane as it is absurd, as funny as it is devastating. When I was grieving, this play was exactly what I needed, and I'm so excited for Carol's future as a playwright.

A play that holds Molly in the ways the rest of the world does not. A pastoral, existential play about feeling disregarded, disconnected, in disrepair. And for what? Sometimes there isn't a reason that you're picked last again, and again, and again. But it's hard to not take personally, and that's what this play (to me) details. Through no ones fault, Molly is set adrift. But the play itself cares for Molly: we watch her for a long time, we sit with her for a long time, we grow attached to her. Excited to read more of Tess Berger's work!

This play is funny because its humor comes from pain, and the crazy-making feeling of consistently being objectified, alienated, fetishized, and reduced to a prop. I saw the Gay City production in Seattle, immediately after Meaks was sent a cease-and-desist by one of the playwrights' agents. As such, the lines from this production were redacted by the SM. Art imitating life imitating art because MISOGYNY. After many years, I (a trans woman) find this play continues to be relevant.

True healing can only come from the hurt never happening in the first place. There is a weaving of time and space between the cold, sterile white-guy owned tattoo shop and Jeoly's capture by colonizers that is intentional and kind, without pulling punches. The play is epic without being overbearing, and intimate while still being highly theatrical. In addition to this, the joy and resistance shared by Judy, Zora, Nanay, and Jeoly is honest. Anamaria Guerzon's SKIN is a play that will be loved by many for years to come.

The violence of forced happiness. Playful and hilarious, but the kind of humor that comes from pain. I found this play to be my favorite kind of absurd: nearly coming apart but held together by the metatheatrical elements and the audiences willingness to play. Loving yourself, loving your mess, loving your friends' messiness. I saw this play last year and still think about it. So excited for the future of this play.

An honest and intimate peek into Freddy/Winifred's relationships, familial and otherwise. Tra(n)sversing the play's web of grief/healing/drama/humor, Azure's writing deftly weaves science fiction and naturalism together with grace and guts. I fell in love with every character in this play, which is a testament to Azure's brilliance as both a playwright and person. Producers: put this show up immediately and give Azure your money.