Recommended by Larry Rinkel

An understated, beautifully written, and compelling look at a Punjabi-American family incongruously finding themselves living in midwestern U.S. suburbia. Very important to keep the American-born characters distinct from the immigrants, as this plays on their attitudes and experiences. Each familial relationship is subtly but indelibly sketched, with the unseen guests who ring the doorbell only at the end being as important as the five characters of the action.

Although this monologue is related to Gill's "The Bitter and the Sweet," it has a distinct personality and both pieces are equally compelling. In this monologue, the speaker Jaspreet addresses her unseen mother to confront her ambivalent feelings towards her Indian heritage with food as the central metaphor. The alternating direct address, address to the unseen mother, and "recipe diction" create a variety of texture not usually found in most monologues.

Who's lying, who's telling the truth, who's pulling the others' legs, you can never be sure in this deceptively simple short piece for eight players by Philip Williams. In this clever microcosm of small-town America in the time of Trump, there isn't a single statement by any character you can wholly trust, down to actor Tim's "better than Spago" assessment of the endlessly leftover meatloaf. Just don't spell cafe like them French fellers do, like café.

We're always told conflict is the essence of drama, and boy do these four go at it from the get-go, all to the accompaniment of one of the more annoying Christmas carols playing on looped repeat during November. Always fun to see Christmas made fun of, and Megan Ann Jacobs has a ball writing this little comedy set in a classroom where the prof never shows up. (Prof is probably afraid of this diverse, feisty bunch.) Merry Christmukkah!

This is so delightfully silly. Great opportunity for a talented kid actor, I love Jacobs's irreverence towards Santa Claus and Christmas, and if you can figure out what the title means, I expect it doesn't matter at all.

Utterly charming depicting of a generation gap between an annoying mother and her annoyed daughter. (If you're wondering what happened to Dad, he's been stuck in the bathroom for a good couple of hours. You can decide for yourself if this is a deliberate avoidance of the women in his somewhat dysfunctional family or merely constipation.) And while the usual advice is to keep a 10-minute play to a single scene, here the 2-scene format really works. Funniest bit: the *second* time Mom knocks on Melanie's bedroom door.

Just when you thought the worst would be that Mark is deported to "Asia" (anywhere in Asia, this ICE inspector is as stupid as his boss), the play - which is set a year from date of writing, during the second Trump administration - takes a more shocking turn yet and thus lives up to its title. Don't think for a minute it can't happen here, folks. A disturbing and gripping short play from Asian-American playwright Scott Sickles.

Yancey's themes are clear - the destructive effects of climate change, here applied in a parable-like manner to Mars rather than earth. And his characters are clear as well rather than being rounded - the intrepid investigative reporter, the courageous scientist imprisoned for speaking unpalatable truths, the pompous but corrupt empty suit of a president. But what makes the play work is its skillful fast pacing and well-written dialogue. A good choice for theaters looking for a cautionary tale on climate change.

Skillfully alternating between the perspectives of two girl students and their teacher who is being grilled by her institutional higher-ups, the play creates a parable about climate change by situating the action on Mars. All characters - the stooges at the top of the school's hierarchy, the teacher who cleverly provokes political conclusions based on irrefutable facts, and the girls caught in the middle - are well-drawn, allowing us to see each one's point of view while clearly siding with the teacher. (This short play is clearly adapted from Yancey's exciting full-length "God of a Dead Universe.")

Never mind if you don't understand the title. Or if you don't know all the literary references. You will know enough of them to see how Geoffrey, the artificial intelligence who is more intelligent than all the humans in Richard Conlon's little gem, manages nonetheless to mangle most of the major works of literature. "To pee. Or not to pee. That is the excretion." And so forth. The play humorously questions what is human, what is machine, what is creativity, what is programming. A clever and fast-paced piece.