Recommended by Ricardo Soltero-Brown

A fine brief piece about a humble man who braves an extraordinary act that so many people ordinarily daydream of. He and the woman he helps recount the incident concurrently but independently, painting a tale of heroic impulses and selfless resolution, the language written with a rather surprising, at times even startling immediacy. Themes of childhood, chance, and time imply the price of growing up, and the cost for a truly heartfelt moment.

"Get on with it." So should any author's direction be. This is Svich's strongest play since 'Guapa' or 'Hide Sky'. Regarding recent, new work, even Caryl Churchill and Conor McPherson might take notes. There are only a handful of writers that would allow this kind of open interpretation to a play's presentation and design. Directors will be hard pressed not to take advantage of it. The words, like Crystal Skillman's, demand not only attention, but your imagination. Most impressive is the simultaneous intelligence and naïveté of the story's kid. I am only allowed 100 words; you, however, have the play.

Two characters who are essentially hyper-aware of the current world, perhaps trying to get away from it, find each other at a hotel bar, and both simultaneously seek connection and separation, judgment and opinion, allegiance and treachery. Diplomacy at its finest.

A.A. Gardner's framework for Craig's journey is unbreakable. The shifts in her character's choices, efforts, and impulses, are cleverly designed, and skillfully structured. This ten-minute monologue comes from a brother to his sister's coffined body. Quite the accomplishment is Gardner's balance between the progression of her plot and honesty in her story, what's heightened or subtle, stirring and intimate. The titular passage is truly inspired, remarkable how it made me laugh, Craig's reproach of an objectively macabre modern tradition; it's a cathartic moment that's genuinely earned, with Craig exhibiting a new, more active courage, appreciation, and memory.

Cowley's characters have a deft skepticism and beaten-down yet everlasting hope, the piece itself has a twisted sense of humor where art and life are not only confused, they're required to coexist, the whole thing playing like Sam Shepard in Hollywood. Fun stuff, and with the lovely attraction and necessity of older actors.

Skillman's hour-long one-woman script bravely allows its character, a magician, to display a vast and extraordinary capacity to learn, dare, and care, she evokes, and easily could have been found in, the beautiful and beloved shorter plays of Robert Patrick. Yet, this magician is not merely an empath, she's purposeful, with an upfront approach generating something between bidding and encouragement. The reason is she has a story to tell. Her trick is having engaged us. I'd almost think of this as the author testing our hope, belief, joy, and wonder, that is if the play weren't so genuine and giving.

Containing some of the finest language Gardner has created, the final monologue, the last page, has worlds; it is packed with plenty to savor and think about; fully fleshed-out lives are hinted at and peekabooed throughout the entire script. There are quick but wholly integral lines, immense power is packed into a single sentence here. This is a dream short for actors, regarding both roles, one mainly internal, the other mainly external, both physically and poetically charged.

Daring and vulnerable for the actor. Heartbreaking and sobering for the rest of us. Perfect for any number of audience.

A play set after a tragedy, but which depicts the toll for all involved. Although the tragedy is both the mystery and heart of the piece, it is lead by sexual intrigue, comic litany, and suburban chaos.

An incredible account and depiction of working class men and their families. I was moved, honored, and improved by playing the role of Jimmy. Conflicted, confused, and controversial, even; this character brought laughs, memories, and questions from our audience.