Recommended by Claudia Haas

"Why can we go forward and not back?" This is asked over and over as Ethan and Liz try so hard to go forward and are stuck. Stuck in a snowstorm, stuck in a car and stuck with their memories of their child that died. Wall does a skillful job of creating slippery slopes for his characters while they remain moored in their car. The characters entice, enrage, and still can soothe each other. It's a wonderful two-hander that hands the actors something rich to play. And it keeps the audience on their toes - even after the final blackout.

Everyone owns 16-year old Lindsey's body except Lindsey. We open with her best friend encouraging her to have a tattoo which she doesn't want - to the teenage boy who assumes that Lindsey joining him one night implies consent and even her mother who makes a snap medical decision for her daughter's pregnancy. The use of flashbacks growing in clarity is tense, succinct and frightening. The ending scene is a triumph for Lindsey - the imagery is used beautifully. Loved the character of Rooster - and his sanity. Just a gorgeous play for teens and their families.

This was fascinating. Two old friends meet to discuss an incident from their past - an incident that is being filmed for a documentary. The incident of the missing child certainly drew me in. But as I reader, I noticed I was eager for Magda's reactions. And the play is as much (or more) about Magda and how she chose to live her life after the incident. There are many surprises and two beautifully realized roles for an older actor and actress.

He's a chef at a soup kitchen and he reads cookbooks! Max is trying to keep poison out of food specifically poison out of the mouths of babes, vets, yes - the homeless population. The monologue builds as Max explains his reasons, his methods, his knowledge and never lets up. You are so on his side. A compelling monologue about food, homelessness or just trying to care in today's world.

Wow. Can we put this in every gun control festival right now? Grim and incisive satire as to why you should always buy your guns in the good old U.S.A. It highlights the ridiculousness of our laws. Having the monologue said by a gung-ho salesperson magnifies the idiocy of these times.

Don't drop the egg in the spoon, pregnancy, a life changed because of another life - the fragility of life, the fragility of choice, the fragility of women - there's a lot going on in this short piece and none of it's easy. All of it is possible. There are four generations of women on stage who have known varying women's rights. The youngest has none of them. Darkly funny and frightening, you do wonder - what happens when women's rights are as fragile as the egg in the spoon? A timely and thoughtful play with four meaty female roles.

Helicoptering parenting spirals out of control and all suffer. Rusty knows he is smothering his daughter but is stuck - sure that his well-laid plans will yield positive results. Elena has seen the results of trying to protect and create the perfect child in her classroom. She sees what is happening in her family but cannot stop it. And daughter Chloe is on a downward spiral with no safety net. It's a cautionary tale of molding perfection and mistaking control for love which leads to a heartbreaking conclusion. You were rooting for all of them. A play for our times.

It's scary to lose your baggage - your physical baggage and your emotional one. A couple who just may be wonderful for each other must first come to terms with what they can let go of, what they can toss, what they're willing to lose. You like them. You root for them. Every audience member will be able to relate.

It's a play about a walk in the forest, the giving of gifts and being part of the universe. And that's just the beginning. The imagery is striking as is the magic. You stay intrigued - where are they going? What are they doing? You need to know. And when you do, it takes your breath away. Partain finds beauty in everything. It would be gorgeous on stage.

There is no time limit for grief. In a span of 18 years, we watch a young boy grow up but still hold on to this mother's ghost who visits every Christmas Eve. It may be comforting at first but as he matures, he's in limbo wanting to move on but paralyzed. Partain's play packs a wallop in a scant ten minutes. Grief is explored in a tender and poignant way.