Recommended by Larry Rinkel

I know nothing about the world of gaming, but the reading of this play at Midwest Dramatists' Conference in 2019 was surely one of the highlights of the program and was recognized as such by all present. A wonderfully confident, entertaining, hilarious tale of a quest that naturally ends with its two heroines prevailing. But perhaps the best-drawn character is the "Silver Stallion." Perfect for TYA, this piece would be a blast for the set and costume designers.

There is a special bond between twins that perhaps only twins can share or understand. Here we have the potential dislocation between the dying girl and the still healthy boy, and part of what's touching about this play is how it oscillates between lines "on the nose" and lines that are deep subtext. There's a whole spectrum of emotion between comedy and sadness. A beautifully written piece.

A wonderfully deft, tongue-in-check dark comedy/farce exploring inter-generational lack of communication, complicated by the initially threatening but ultimately inept would-be robber — whose ultimate fate is to take care of a bunny rabbit. Death and especially death by gun violence are obviously harrowing topics, but by presenting the would-be robber-killer as a Cowardly Lion who couldn't extinguish a fly, Munter has created an initially uncomfortable but ultimately hilarious environment, one that skillfully takes the most jarring part of the play (the man's entrance) and ties his incongruous appearance to the unexpected, silly, but inevitable resolution.

Independent of the "subject matter," the true originality of this play for me is the use of the choral voices surrounding the two main characters. After the reading at Midwest Dramatists' Conference in 2019, terms like Greek tragedy, ritual, and ostinato (a musical term for repetition) emerged. These devices are eminently theatrical, and create a world where the subject of the play is not only the car accident, but the choral voices enveloping the dialogue between the boy and girl.

One thing important to Philip Williams's work is a strong sense of place, in settings like Michigan and Florida, which appears to be his most typical locale. Here we have an elderly gay male couple moving for the last time, and the subtlety of this touching and very understated drama is the gradual reveal why Paul wants to move, and why he withholds the real reason from cantankerous Adam who shows signs of dementia.

One thing not always pointed out in Rachael Carnes's work is what I would call a pointillistic technique. Apparently isolated phrases and sentences leap out and we're not aware at first where they're going, but gradually the fragments start to imply an overall theme. For this reason one has to be attuned to Rachael's particular approach to structure, which comes across very effectively in "Egg in Spoon." That said, let us not overlook the sharply delineated characterizations, particularly great-grandma Eleanor's irreverently open wisecracks on female masturbation.

Tying a tie becomes a metaphor for learning to grow up and keep a stiff upper lip as a "man," in a tradition that men don't cry even at their father's funeral. Steven G. Martin has a clear knack for writing these miniature vignettes, where it seems the key is to concentrate on a single incident, to suggest so much more beyond.

A clever little comedy in verse that took first place at the Secret Theatre 1-act Festival in August 2019. The mundane subject matter (a drug test as part of a job application) contrasts well with the elegance of the verse, and having worked in verse theatre myself, I know how difficult it is to maintain a theatrical plot line while attending to the rhyme and meter. Especially if the play is all about pee.

A bittersweet reminder of how the gay rights movement has caused an undividable gap between the pre- and post-Stonewall generations. Neither Edward nor Julian truly understands the other, which makes the prognosis for their relationship in doubt, even before Edward decides not to proffer that ring. Thompson skillfully divides our sympathies between these two, suggesting neither is at fault but we are all a product of our history. What is in store for Julian when -he- reaches Edward's age?

A wonderfully funny and clever little play which rings all the changes on the meanings of choice, courage, and progress within the context of Reform Judaism. Consider how less adroitly ironic the play would have been if Rabbi Silverman had been male, or from a different branch of Judaism like Conservative or Orthodox (where a female Rabbi would not be allowed). And directors should not miss the opportunities for using props like those twirling pens or the ring tone from Beethoven's Fifth or the thunder or the light at the end.