Recommended by Claudia Haas

This play just aches with truth: a painting that is truth, a relationship that is truth and when the world gets its act together - what better truth is there than love? You want to shake Adrian but you don’t because he is a product of those (and these) times. You want to embrace Knut in his grief and as you question the final moment, wonder if he is also part of those times even though he fights it. And you yearn - for a time - where truth in legacy allows all love.

“Knowing what you should do and will do are two different things.” We all experienced this during Lockdown. Mabley takes this a step further. What will we choose after Covid? It makes you ponder if you would have made different choices if there was no Covid. Mabley wisely centers on life choices - considering the old normal and new normal. With humor and poignancy, the play speaks to all of us.

Move over, Classical Greek Mythology. There are new myths in town as Lucy Wang heralds in an age of enlightenment. It doesn’t hurt that this new age gives us the sexiest man alive and support sheep. A fun comedy that blossoms into something more. Clever, sexy, and knowing, this new age welcomes you. Yes, all of you.

So, I know a dairy farmer or two. And have wondered about what Heyman tells us dairy cows think about. And I think - yeah - Heyman nailed it. And you have to love how the playwright milks the end.

Yeah.. we did the Kondo thing here. We forgot the bowing. And the folds were not pretty. Syran acknowledges my imperfections and forgives. The play brought me joy.

Be careful when you read this and prepared to be gutted. Lawing does not scrimp in showing a family gutted by gun violence. Nor should he. We should never become immune.

“The dance oozes subtext.” As does Bray’s charming rom-com of two teens who know little about love and less about expressing it. Bray catches all the awkwardness of that age (with a bunch of subtext). He also catches the yearning and hopes of a first crush because who knows what comes later. And who cares what comes later? His characters are in the here and now even if Brian is looking for My, Darcy’s Regency look.

Every time I read a story about someone (usually a man, usually African American) being exonerated after years of false imprisonment, my heart beats a little faster as if trying to give the person a few extra beats of my own heart. Cole’s monologue succinctly gives us a human who yearns for his own humanity and maybe a starry sky. Your heart will ache.

The irony of humans going to a tourist attraction that no longer exists because of human activity shines brightly in Lawing’s play. There is a deliciousness in tying the tacky souvenir trade to an end of times scenario. Lawing never lets go of the light banter even when the tides turn. And they turn fiercely. A theatrical harbinger of what could happen.

It’s never too late - or is it? Hall does a beautiful job of figuring out if you can go back or if time abolishes relationships. There are no easy answers. With 3 nuanced roles for actors (yes, 3! You need the waitress), this is a poignant piece asking if you can go home again.