Recommended by Jillian Blevins

When was the last time a ten minute play made you cry? For me, it was Rachel Tookey’s MUDDER at the Samuel French OOB festival. Nothing brings up your mommy issues like becoming a mother yourself. With its apt theatrical premise, MUDDER toggles between hilarity and touching vulnerability. This clever and affecting short cuts to the bone of generational trauma, offering healing, hope, and a terrific role for an older actress.

Megan Rifkin has a real gift for capturing the rhythms and idiosyncrasies of young women’s conversations. In DO YOU PARTY, the dialogue is practically musical in its overlaps, ellipses, and subtext. Abby’s compulsive directness stands in stark contrast to her would-be-friends’ MLM-inflected sorority-speak. A killer piece for college-aged actors with comic chops.

An incinerating satire of the commodification of queer culture and the language of female empowerment. The rapid-fire vignette structure serves the play well, echoing the ways we consume culture via tv, commercials, Tiktoks and YouTube. A certain celeb-model-mogul and her television empire should be shaking in their boots.

FISH MEAT is a funny, heartbreaking, hopeful story spanning oceans and centuries while remaining intimate and character-focused.

Ng’s deftly weaves together two timelines, inhabiting two seemingly different worlds with humor and familiarity, her potent dialogue by turns colloquial and poetic. Her two protagonists—one a plucky teen girl from a nineteenth century fishing village, the other a queer marine biologist and transracial adoptee—echo and reflect each other until their paths unexpectedly collide. FISH MEAT asks uncomfortable questions about consent, fetishization and agency, all while maintaining a sense of humor and moments of tender humanity. Must-read!

FISH MEAT is a funny, heartbreaking, hopeful story spanning oceans and centuries while remaining intimate and character-focused.

Ng’s deftly weaves together two timelines, inhabiting two seemingly different worlds with humor and familiarity, her potent dialogue by turns colloquial and poetic. Her two protagonists—one a plucky teen girl from a nineteenth century fishing village, the other a queer marine biologist and transracial adoptee—echo and reflect each other until their paths unexpectedly collide. FISH MEAT asks uncomfortable questions about consent, fetishization and agency, all while maintaining a sense of humor and moments of tender humanity. Must-read!

The mommy wars go intergalactic in Emily McClain’s thought-provoking and funny ten minute play. The conversation between GROUND CONTROL’s potential mothers will feel familiar to anyone who’s navigated the conflicting expectations and advice on how to be a good parent; McClain shrewdly raises the stakes (and the altitude) as two astronauts debate who is better equipped to carry the first pregnancy in space.

The satisfying and unexpected ending is especially wonderful. Feminist motherhood is the future.

PRE-WAR exemplifies a fundamental truth about human connection: though the specifics of our individual experiences are endlessly varied, joy and heartache and grief are universal. This powerful scene between two women with seemingly nothing in common (aside from their apartment building) underscores the ways we’re all linked, and reminds us to get to know our neighbors.

With a pitch-perfect balance of snark and sentiment, A LIFE ENRICHING COMMUNITY’s retirees pop off the page. It’s remarkable how naturally Middleton Williams is able to convey decades of romantic history in this brief interlude as the couple transitions into their shared life’s final chapter. This funny, tender 10-minute play would be an excellent showcase for two older actors and a welcome addition to any festival.

Ricardo Soltero-Brown is one of the most exciting playwrights working today. With wit, empathy, and intellectual deftness, his plays explore the ways modern social and linguistic conventions constrain and divide us. His characters, trying and failing to say the “correct” thing, end up saying the quiet parts—the things we’re not supposed to say—out loud.
In THE EXTENSION—on the surface about a politician and a loan shark—Soltero-Brown takes aim at sexual politics, and how our gender-based expectations and grievances stand in the way of communication and connection. A taut two-hander full of twists and turns.

Surrey Houlker captures the pain, awkwardness, and joys of tween friendship alongside the persistence and strangeness of grief in THE DEAD DADZ CLUB.
The early 2000’s setting is both nostalgic and smart; these kids are barely on the internet and have one “emergencies-only” cell phone between them, forcing them to seek connection “IRL”.
The play’s nonlinear structure (and one very clever scenic device) keeps us on our toes as the Club’s dynamics shift. At heart, TDDC is a sensitive character study, its six kids distinctly and tenderly drawn, each trying to deal with impossible grief.