Recommended by Matthew Weaver

Partain takes a haunting setting, covered in mirrors, and spins her own unique form of theatrical magic. It's a dark tale, but she finds beauty in the darkness. Partain guides us as she examines the darkest angles of the soul. One COULD say she shines a light into every shadow, but AUTOPHOBIA is really about embracing those shadows, giving voice to them, and enabling audience members to say, "I feel this way, too; she is writing about me." Her play is a mirror itself, held aloft, an honest reckoning with our own anxious reflections. May all playwrights be as brave.

Partain has a gift for imagery, and it is in full display in BLOOD & WINE. This is a literally intoxicating monologue that's jagged-edge dangerous and sexy and vibrant. I particularly love the comparison of plump wine grapes still on the vine to the chunky legs of babies - pure poetry. It's an erotic play that never resorts to eroticism. Instead, Partain lets her words flow over we the audience as we form our own pictures in our minds.

Partain tackles society's expectations of what a woman's body should look like, and in doing so provides a monologue that should be included in ANY festival. Her words would be a gift for any actress - wistful, heartbroken, resigned, hopeful. Far from being "just" a play, this is a confession, it's a diary entry, it's a cry of solidarity to every woman, including the seemingly impossible examples set by Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn. It's a whisper, "I see you, I am you, you are not alone, we are more than what they make of us." Oasis in the dark.

As with any Wyndham youth monologue, there are so many layers here to unpack. Space Alien Kid wants everything to be perfect for their birthday party (NO SUPERHEROES, please and thank you) but also wants people to actually show up this year.
As always, Wyndham captures the whirlwind of thoughts and big emotions that any kid, of any age, will relate to, with an undercurrent of heartache that makes our passions and resilience all the more warming.
I want to give Space Alien Kid the biggest hug and I think you will, too.

A fun, quick monologue that asks big questions about identity and bigotry, while reveling in the joy of sex and skiing. With a Diana Burbano play, you get layers and complexity and wit and wholly righteous anger, all of which are characteristics to be treasured and shared with the world.

"The tour group from Idaho took the Mouse hostage yesterday." Any time Burbano writes anything, you're going to get something that's razor-sharp, smart and funny as hell, and WILDING is no exception. Here, she offers a quick, delightful, all too plausible snapshot of a tourist seeking refuge on a cruise ship, and lets her (and our) imagination soar.
The picture she paints here is so strong and vivid, Burbano makes a case for writing a full-length disaster play. Not only would I read/see it, I think everyone would! A Burbano-penned SHARKNADO would be a sight to behold!

I love everything about this. Yarchun offers a short play that's brilliant and clever and sexy and funny and wonderful. The concept is so good that I'm FURIOUS I didn't come up with it, and you will be too, in the best possible way. My first experience with a Yarchun play, but certainly not my last, I'm sure.

Throughout the midst of this COVID-19 pandemic, no one has paused to think of the effect upon our evil clown population. Until now. Larry's trying to keep it together, despite the cancellation of his trip to Paris ("Je suis Larry et je suis une shape-shifting clown monster."), he's even taken up knitting!
Fortunately, Larry has Dee, his therapist. And fortunately, we have Carnes to deliver this delightfully off-kilter short comedy that did indeed make me feel the tiniest bit better about my own COVID ennui.
Rich and absurd. Someone needs to put together an evil clown festival to stage this.

Only Hageman could bring us the most high-stakes adventure of Batman's crime-solving career yet.
Two words: POOL NOODLES.
Hageman's Batman satires are so excellent because she so brilliantly GETS the Batman mythos and even more adeptly skewers it. It's an examination of pop culture (similar to Andy Warhol's soup can paintings) and at the same time so darn good that I don't understand why DC Comics isn't beating down Hageman's door, begging her to bring her brilliance to their pages. (She can do better.)
Hageman's plays are gifts to the thinking comics fan, and to thinking theatrical fans everywhere.

NUCLEAR FAMILY is exactly, EXACTLY, as complicated and messy as you hope it will be. There are no easy answers, everyone is mostly uncomfortable and seeking a way to be less miserable. Sounds about right.
Smith leaves nothing unturned, as she delves into a family drama that's also social commentary, also a fascinating character examination, also an all-too-possible exploration of our relationships with our devices.
Perhaps most fascinating is her exploration of the relationship between daughter Harriet and bot NiNa, as Harriet throws herself into her Human/Bot relation studies. It's a particularly complex dynamic in the midst of many.