Recommended by Ricardo Soltero-Brown

Nora Louise Syran's IMPRESSIONS OF PARIS is a passel of history, art, and art history. The style - of design and performance, both - gleam off the page rendering the theatricality almost pristine in one's imagination. The atmosphere is delightful in ways that feel at turns naughty and inspiring. NLS weaves song and dance into the lyrical script, but its hardly in the margins of Valadon's story, rather the numbers become part of Valadon's expression; her expression being NLS's major achievement. A musing on the creative processes of giants, it does not forget the disillusionment of the lifestyle bohemian either.

The humorous dialogue is exceptional considering the subject matter. That it has the humor of life at all makes the play nonpareil, sliding it into the leagues of The Normal Heart, The Destiny of Me, and the more grounded aspects of Angels in America. The pathos is reminiscent of Longtime Companion and the angrier writings of Larry Kramer, like The Tragedy of Today's Gays. The structure builds just right and the way it plays into the arc of the characters makes each piece poignant in the cog-work. Skip the character page and read the script, let it speak for itself.

Replete with historical dues and literary context, CHARLOTTE'S LETTERS is another fine component in Jennifer O'Grady's canon of artists-at-work during significant moments in their lives. (See: JUGGLING WITH MR. FIELDS) It was certainly delightful learning about the women behind so many important works of Western prose and their formidable years, but there is plenty of entertainment and drama in the sections involving Mrs. Gaskell and Meta, and how they work on framing the Brontë sisters. The language, the dialogue is simultaneously appropriate, rhapsodic, and accessible. The second half reaches a layer of dream-upon-dream that renders the play into resplendent heights.

With its ease at bawdy comedy upfront and center, the play makes clear how honest a body comedy it will be. A great deal of the sardonic humor comes from the insensitive treatment Gabisile receives from both humans and fate and her blunt reactions to all of it, regarding her race, career, attitude, etc. It's astonishing how Kerr Lockhart is able to mine the right diamonds out of all the plays subjects. There are themes on performance as personality, as well, aside from the personification that occurs. A poignant musing where "Life is the bit/And death is the button".

A wry investigation of loneliness that questions whether the only person who can stand oneself is oneself - and if that's really who we're looking for in companionship: ourself. The stage directions by Stephen Kaplan serve as a how-to regarding the tightrope walk performance that is necessary for Tracy Jones - as well as the other characters - for they have an almost Eugene O'Neill precision to them, with the dialogue in verse-like distinction. There is great delight in the awkward comedy of these people interacting with one another. Special mention for Jillie who is reminiscent of a Stoppard character.

I was laughing out loud from the beginning; the charm, the cleverness, the je ne sais qoui. Jillian Blevins is not afraid to poke fun at all the different incarnations of romance and polyamory, which is refreshing and proves to be a gift that keeps on giving. The tone, subject matter, the satire remind me not only of the epigraphic Molière, but also of Terence and Plautus. It's truly astonishing what Blevins is able to communicate about the characters through the strictures of verse and rhyme, particularly with sarcasm. Blevins proves herself a master of all genres and forms.

Marc finds himself in some tense tête-à-têtes! Remarkable how Philip Middleton Williams draws his characters so completely, it's like reading the work of Edward Albee or Sam Shepard. There are wonderful tiny moments in the script, so precise, that it'd be remiss to dismiss them as director, designer, or actor. PMW has written a roadmap for a funny, vulnerable play about power dynamics, aging, honesty, and the implications of teaching: what does it mean to teach, what is its true purpose as one's purpose, and just who the hell is on the receiving end of the lesson?

The phonetic dialogue is full of dialect and colloquialisms doing a major part of the dramaturgy. Other set descriptions can be over-busied, yet this would be a marvel to behold, not just in its unique setting and design, but also in the dance Peel has the characters do. Harley and Sheree, two used and abusing transients navigate the obstacles towards a better life, which include a Brexit backdrop, racist drug dealer Carl, and charity worker Magda rounding out themes of home. Peel manifests a life on the streets that is at turns grimy, desperate, mythical, musical, Bond-ian, Osborne-ian, and devastating.

The vignettes regard a range of subjects and themes such as atheism, faith, salvation, altruism, charity, ambition, collateral damage, blood money, and a few more familiar no-nos. Of course, these are echoed in the last section by their "appropriate" circle of hell. Or are they? Several demises of the characters are genuinely comical in their extravagance and banality, particularly ones involving auto accidents and a proverbial last supper. However, interestingly enough, sometimes one gets a kick out of or fear guessing just who's going to bite the dust. The final scene is a riot that renders everything written above moot.

The dialogue is natural and embraces us in its rhythm from the start. Alaniz wastes no time, so much that the dominoes are set up before we even know it, even with the wisely suggestive yet amenable stage directions. The characters Gwen, Gabriel and Toby all vibrate off the page and the dynamic between them is always clear but intriguing. There are delicate exchanges regarding the trauma of growing up, child rearing, and romantic partnership, even empathy; all with the thematic threadings of song and flowers. The tension builds from a cigarette up to the exorcism of a haunted house.