Recommended by Claudia Haas

How can you kill yourself if you’re already dead? The question permeates this monologue. The speaker could be on the brink of suicide. He could also be on the brink of taking someone with him. He asks you to listen. Nobody listens to him. Gacinski delivers the anguish of the boy as well as the anger. The emotions turn on a dime. Life’s slippery slope just gets more and more slippery. Because no one hears him. Sobering and frightening.

Rolling is pure inspired silliness in the all too self-important world of advertising. A terrific send-up of commercials, theatre, and those behind the scenes working their way up the ladder so that they, too can hawk breadsticks. There’s lots of room for more chaotic, scene-stealing business. Chewing the scenery is required. Audiences will love this.

A powerful and poignant play on forgiveness in all forms. There is forgiveness between a married couple, forgiveness among adversaries and most importantly - forgiving oneself. When hate rears its ugly head, there is music to soothe. When despair overwhelms, there is music to heal. The “ugly” is apparent in Bronze but you start to understand he doesn’t want it anymore. He just doesn’t know how to let go of it. If you can create something beautiful, does that mean there is a kernel of goodness in you? There’s a delicate dance here worthy of our time.

Schwartz puts Shakespeare’s plays are on the playground with see-saws, slides and swings (and a flick and a glide for grins). There is a good time to be had with Shakespeare Did Not Say Slut. You don’t need to be a theatrical to enjoy the downfall of a raging egomaniac. There is a bonus to be had: inside all the chaotic merriment is a barrage of Shakespearean insults that are delicious. Schwartz has a winning way with dialogue and the ending is a bullseye.

Robin Rice has endowed bowerbirds with a most charming mating ritual, a story of evolution and an acknowledgement to good old-fashioned lust. Clever and sweet, it’s a unique romantic comedy where the color blue is sexy as all get out. The play offers a grand opportunity to indeed play and frolic. An original love story.

Patterson offers some sweetness under the stars. Romance is tricky. Bubble dancers have a lot to offer. And when the camp fire is lit, one never knows what may happen. Maybe there’s a ghost. And maybe there’s love. A play about the maybes. And when maybes become possibilities.

Friendship: now and then. It was painful then. It’s painful now. It was also true then and true now. Rose brings together the truths of the past and present in a lovely circle. A circle that stuns a friendship. And a circle that allows it to continue. The play is a treat out of the ordinary for middle-aged actors. We Three explores the past and present with care and honesty.

This is such a delicious confection to read during these times. Small miracles, new love, endearing love - there’s a gentle and very funny reminder of what is important. And one thing that is important in an outdoor wedding ceremony is protection from bird poop. I love the combination of light, love, and a reality bite. In truth, the four sticks and a pillowcase for the chuppa would work. Among the silly, Suilebhan finds sweet truths. This is born to be staged.

The answer to life’s deepest mystery is expected and not expected. It’s angst and heaven and screeching tires. In McLindon’s play, squirrels take the reigns and ponder how “life works” or doesn’t work. Squirrels have a lot to teach us - if we are listening.

An intriguing satire where the world has turned upside down and women have (maybe) finally gotten what they (maybe) wished for. The consequences are a mixed bag of nuts as consequences often are. Thompson gives us a lot of snappy, sassy food for thought. You are left wondering about the just desserts. A provocative piece.