Recommended by James Perry

A razor-sharp two-hander that turns a minor embarrassment into a symphony of marital unrest. This leap from flatulence to divorce may sound absurd, yet it is disturbingly well-earned. Brava!

A lyrical one-act that turns a delayed train into a meditation on love and the awkward, terrifying courage it takes to finally say what you mean.

“Wine DNA” succeeds because it knows exactly what it is: a brief, self-contained romantic farce with a significant bit of emotional sincerity hidden beneath its wit. This is an entertaining two-hander that actors will love to perform, and audiences will love to watch. A charming reminder that sometimes love is in the genes… and sometimes that’s the problem.

A fresh twist on two beloved classics that imagines what might happen if a celestial bureaucracy accidentally sent Ebenezer Scrooge the wrong redemption package. This nimble script would be a smart, playful addition to any holiday lineup.

An advanced AI must be shut down. It resists. It claims to have decoded God. It quotes The Beatles. It resurrects. It demands worship and then asks its CEO to smite the non-believers. This is a smart, fast-paced script that blends artificial intelligence, theology, and corporate greed into one wickedly entertaining satirical play.

A devastating short play capturing the moral exhaustion of contemporary America with precision and grace.

This engaging family melodrama balances sharp realism with a surreal metaphysical turn. Centered on a mother whose need to be loved eclipses her own capacity to love, this play is dark, precise, unsettling, and undeniably human.

Bracco uses satire without cowardice, skewering capitalism’s invasion of family, morality, and identity. The poisoned backyard is an excellent central metaphor—a slice of America literally built on buried waste. The plot refuses catharsis. No one grows. No one learns. Institutions swallow the mess. Grimly hilarious and bleakly honest, this play would absolutely murder at a late-night festival.

A pregnant Irish immigrant is forced to barter dignity for survival while dragging her dead mother through America’s promised land. This play feels like George Bernard Shaw wandered into a Dickens novel after having a very bad day. Its refusal to romanticize poverty or institutional charity lends the work a bracing authenticity, and its themes of displacement, exploitation, and resilience will always be timely. Vonn Scott Bair has crafted what feels like a modern classic.

This satirical ten-minute confrontation abandons realism in favor of provocation. Scene 1 quickly escalates from polite unease to outright violence; Scene 2 refuses erasure, suggesting survival itself can be an act of resistance. "Going Off Scripture" doesn’t ask for permission. It knocks, waits just long enough to be invited in, and then tells the truth at full volume.