1. The Flick

National Theatre, London

Peter Brook once argued that the acid test of any play was the image it leaves behind. No question about the abiding memory of Annie Baker’s astonishing play: a run-down movie auditorium, rows of empty seats, a projection booth. But this was simply the setting for a play about the quiet desperation of three lonely people intoxicated by film. Sam (Matthew Maher) was a burly cleaner aching with unexpressed love for Rose (Louisa Krause), the wraith-like projectionist. She, in turn, was besotted with Avery (Jaygann Ayeh), a 20-year-old African American on a break from college.

For some, since it ran three-and-a-quarter hours, the triangle seemed eternal, but I loved everything about the play. The long silences. The way passion, as in the work of Racine, was constantly beating against the restraints of a decorous framework: at one point, Sam registered his sexual jealousy by quietly emptying a bag of popcorn for Avery to clean up. Above all, this was a play about work, about the fact that running an old-style movie house is as much concerned with sweeping away the debris as resisting the trend towards digitisation.

As one of the few theatre critics to have worked as a cinema usher, I could even vouch for the accuracy of a time-honoured scam concerning the resale of old ticket stubs. Sam Gold’s unhurried production, imported from New York, was a miracle and the acting was marvellous. But the main credit belongs to Baker, for making moving drama out of a trio of lost souls and for creating the year’s most unforgettable theatrical image. Read the full review

2. Oil

Almeida, London

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Ambitious and bold … Oil. Photograph: Richard H Smith

In a breakthrough year for female dramatists – and a modest one for men – Ella Hickson’s play stands out. It spanned 150 years and covered a vast range of subjects: the exploitation and exhaustion of the world’s oil resources, the links between the energy industry and imperialism, the social progress made by women and the unresolved problems of parenting. It was a lot to cram in, but I was awed by the boldness of the conception. Anne-Marie Duff as the time-transcending May also caught brilliantly the pain that accompanied a pathfinding woman’s gain. Read the full review

3. Cyprus Avenue

Royal Court, London

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Lunacy laced with laughter … Stephen Rea in Cyprus Avenue. Photograph: Tristram Kenton/The Guardian

As a critic, you get inured to shock but I was genuinely shaken by the climax of David Ireland’s play involving bin-bagged infanticide. What made it so disturbing was that it seemed the logical outcome to a play about the insanity of sectarian hatred: the protagonist was a Belfast man so devoted to the Protestant cause that he was convinced his five-year-old granddaughter was the incarnation of Gerry Adams. But Ireland’s achievement was to have laced the lunacy with laughter. It was just a pity that Vicky Featherstone’s production and Stephen Rea’s amazing performance were seen by so few. Read the full review

4. The Glass Menagerie

King’s theatre, Edinburgh

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Perfectly pitched … Cherry Jones (centre) in The Glass Menagerie. Photograph: Michael J Lutch

Cherry Jones is a big name on Broadway but scarcely known in Britain. She was brilliant in John Tiffany’s production of the Tennessee Williams classic – the revival of the year, stripping an over-familiar play of gauzy wispiness. This was a tough, clear production, perfectly pitched between realism and symbolism and with a great performance at its centre. As Amanda, angling for a suitor for her gauche daughter, Jones gave us a woman who was neither monstrous nor comic but filled with gusto, vitality and an unquenchable recollection of past joys. The good news is that the production comes to London in February. Read the full review

5. King Lear

Old Vic, London

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Incipient madness … Glenda Jackson in King Lear. Photograph: Tristram Kenton for the Guardian

In a year of Lears, Glenda Jackson took on the title role after a 25-year absence from the stage. She was tremendous: forbidding, ironic, vainglorious, vulnerable and capable of switching in a second from incipient madness to dazzling perspicacity. At 80, most actors have the insight but not the energy to play Lear; Jackson had both. Gregory Doran’s concurrent RSC production with Antony Sher was richer in texture and had a better supporting cast than Deborah Warner’s, but what counted was Jackson’s ability to scale the summit without visible strain. Read the full review

6. The Children

Royal Court, London

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Moral dilemmas … Ron Cook and Deborah Findlay in The Children. Photograph: Tristram Kenton for the Guardian

Yet more proof, if it were needed, of the vaulting ambition of Britain’s female dramatists. Quieter in tone than Lucy Kirkwood’s previous play, Chimerica, it nonetheless addressed big themes: the poisoned legacy we are passing on to the next generation, the question of whether parenting activates or stills the social conscience. Deborah Findlay as the motherly Hazel and Francesca Annis as the childless Rose were confronted by severe moral choices in a plausible, nuclear-powered future. A play guaranteed to keep you up arguing. Read the full review

7. Don Quixote

The Swan, Stratford-upon-Avon

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Joyous popular theatre … Rufus Hound and David Threlfall in Don Quixote. Photograph: Tristram Kenton for the Guardian

Most adaptations of Miguel de Cervantes’s novel fall at the first hurdle: it just seems too vast for the stage. James Fenton’s version and Angus Jackson’s production overcame that by presenting us with a joyous piece of popular theatre: one that embraced puppetry, comic props and Hispanic music. But it was the performances that made it work. David Threlfall as the Don, with his shaggy beard and wild eyes, even evoked Lear when threatening to strip off his clothes, and his footsteps were memorably dogged by Rufus Hound as Sancho. Read the full review

8. A Streetcar Named Desire

Royal Exchange, Manchester

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Inviolable solitude … Maxine Peake and Ben Batt in A Streetcar Named Desire. Photograph: Manuel Harlan

Maxine Peake, it seems, can tackle just about anything: Hamlet, Caryl Churchill’s The Skriker, Shelley’s The Masque of Anarchy. This year she added Tennessee Williams’ Blanche Dubois to her list. You wouldn’t say Peake was natural casting since she normally exudes defiant common sense but, in Sarah Frankcom’s production, she captured perfectly Blanche’s endless capacity for self-delusion: “One’s my limit,” she cried, grasping the neck of a whiskey bottle. Above all, Peake’s Blanche seemed wreathed in an aura of inviolable solitude. Read the full review

9. No Man’s Land

Wyndham’s theatre, London

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Veteran pair … Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart in No Man’s Land. Photograph: Johan Persson

Old-timers wax lyrical about Ralph Richardson and John Gielgud in the 1975 premiere of Pinter’s play. But although they were memorable, the play is big enough to take constant reinterpretation. This time round Ian McKellen was excellent as the scrounging Spooner, furtively taking notes about his host’s sumptuous pad. Patrick Stewart as Hirst beautifully caught the weariness of a writer who feels he is nearing journey’s end only to find his departure temporarily stayed. Read the full review

10. Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

Palace theatre, London

Facebook Twitter Pinterest A creative feast … Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Photograph: Manuel Harlan

Even though I’m no Potter-head, I admired the ingenuity with which Jack Thorne reworked the Rowling legend to show us a young and old Harry. But what I most admired was the way John Tiffany (director), Christine Jones (designer) and Jamie Harrison (illusions) created magic out of simple ingredients. Luggage turned into moving trains, scruffy kids were suddenly swathed in school uniforms, staircases twirled like Fred and Ginger. A feast for the eye. Read the full review

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