Recommended by Jillian Blevins

  • Of Night Shadows
    3 May. 2023
    John Mabey’s moody psychological horror explores universal human experiences—persistent guilt, paranoia, secrets within a marriage— personified in an unseen antagonist, lurking just offstage. With echoes of Poe (and I Know What You Did Last Summer), this dark tale asks: what would we forgive or deny to stay married and stay sane? And can what we’ve chosen to repress ever truly stay hidden?

    OF NIGHT SHADOWS’ strength lies both in its dream-like dialogue and the space between the words, the unspoken. Its evocative imagery and fantastically spooky ending would be a treat for designers and directors alike.
  • young women of valor
    3 May. 2023
    This snapshot of Jewish girlhood is achingly sweet. The window Feit creates into the distinct milieu of modern Orthodox culture (and the even more unique world of Jewish summer camp) will be familiar to those who have experienced it, and perhaps surprising to those who haven’t; YWoV’s teens defy stereotypes, swinging back and forth from heart-throb magazines and lip gloss to the forbidden touching of boys and the kashrut menu for their some-day weddings in one breath. An undercurrent of queer longing hums beneath the disarmingly ordinary moment of teen girl bonding in a religious community. Lovely.
  • Fixed
    1 May. 2023
    A tattoo can serve many purposes; a reminder, a memorial, a warning, a scar. They’re part of the face we show the world, and the image we project—but appearances can lie. Cathro’s well-paced one-act throws together two people whose surfaces belie their more complex interior lives. FIXED’s cancer survivor isn’t a martyr enlightened by her trauma, but a spiky, impulsive, sardonically funny mess. Her counterpart’s intimidating aura camouflages his gentle, grief-ridden soul determined to atone for a shameful past (which the playwright artfully alludes to rather than spells out). A wholly original character study.
  • It's the Jews
    19 Apr. 2023
    John Minigan’s ten-minute play is masterful satire, lampooning two seemingly disparate (but equally infuriating) hypocrisies in one fell swoop. An allegory about the commercialization of art—and the sacrifices creatives are forced to make in the name of success—simultaneously takes aim at the constant minimizing “what-about-ism” Jews encounter when trying to tell our stories. As Minigan’s smarmy Artistic Director and desperate playwright argue over which one of them is “the Gustav”— lacking in the courage to take a risk, I marveled at how seamlessly he weaves together these two ideas in one interaction. Well done!
  • JOHN DESERVES TO DIE
    16 Apr. 2023
    This feminist indictment of Oleanna, David Mamet, academic theatre, and fatphobic culture at large crackles with electricity and rage. The world preys on the insecurities of young women; it minimizes them, and more insidiously, makes them desire smallness. Rachel Greene creates a hall of mirrors where Oleanna, John Deserves To Die, and the metatheatrical perspective of audience itself blend in mind bending and dynamic ways.

    The female characters of JDTD are people, not archetypes. They aren’t written through the perspective of a man, or a woman writing for the male gaze. And that itself is revolutionary.
  • Slash
    10 Apr. 2023
    SLASH is a playful, clever horror spoof with a genuinely chilling conclusion. As its gay teen protagonists (winkingly named Freddy and Jason) post-coitally banter about slasher tropes and wait out a thunderstorm, de Forest employs humor and suspense in equal measure—perfectly encapsulated in a climactic moment with a hilarious and unexpected murder weapon. The ambiguity of the ending sets this apart from similar shorts: is the creepy guy approaching the horny teens really a horror-movie slasher, or have the boys become the murderers they feared?
  • A FINGER POINTING
    2 Apr. 2023
    This incisive short play hinges on a delightfully goofy image—two grown men wielding their pointed fingers as guns, shouting “BAM” like kids on the playground. Underneath this ridiculousness lie thoughtful observations about tribalism and racial tension, and our culture’s compulsive need to find another person (or group of people) to blame for our problems.
  • Saudade
    1 Apr. 2023
    SAUDADE is a heart-rending tiny tragedy. Through one couple’s hope, denial, frustration, fear and longing, Garvin lays bare the reality of America’s draconian immigration policies, and the wreckage they leave behind.

    The most powerful element of SAUDADE is it’s portrayal of tender domesticity in Chea and Ary’s relationship: the in-jokes, the nightly rituals and routines, the physical affection that’s both deeply felt and matter-of-fact. Just as in marriage, so much is communicated in these small moments, their repetition and variation. Galvin sensitively evokes the beauty in the mundane—and the devastation at its loss.
  • Wherever You Go
    24 Mar. 2023
    Studying Torah, Ruth’s pledge of devotion to her mother-in-law Naomi has always stood out to me. Her sacrifice is often interpreted as an act of duty or morality—but to me (and clearly to Erin Proctor) it feels like something much deeper.

    With frank, yet poetic language and thoughtfully deployed anachronism, the playwright reframes this female-centered biblical narrative as an intergenerational queer love story, rich in its own kind of holiness. I can’t wait to read the next act (how will Boaz figure in this???) and to explore more of Proctor’s fresh, feminist takes on Jewish stories.
  • Wendy and the Neckbeards
    22 Mar. 2023
    WENDY AND THE NECKBEARDS is a deceptively moving, metatheatrical thrill ride through some of the creepier corners of the internet. Along with her Greek chorus of neckbeards, Kari Bentley-Quinn guides us into the depths manosphere like Aristophanes took us to Hades in The Frogs, with just as much scathing social satire and fourth wall-breaking absurdist comedy.

    WATNB is perhaps the best theatrical treatment of the internet I’ve yet encountered, both in form and content. KBQ’s savvy and nuanced play explores the ways chronically-online misogyny infiltrates mainstream culture—“normal guys” aren’t immune, our “online selves” are still us.

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