Arts

Is it possible for the best film at this year’s New York Film Festival to be an 8-minute short? There’s a kind of perfect, resonant humanism in South of Tehran, Kleber Mendonça Filho’s brief portrait of Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi, that feels unique from so much else at this year’s event. And I say that

The Jets just proved they suck again but it was fun while it lasted … for a week. I was looking forward to attending the opening of the Armory art show at the Javits Center. Actually, I was more excited to see the pretensions of the people seeing the art. After all, I only like

The other day, sitting through previews before a screening of the Anthony Bourdain biopic Tony, I watched trailers for Behemoth!, Tony Gilroy’s return from a galaxy far, far away and his first feature since 2012’s The Bourne Legacy; James Gray’s Gowanus-set period crime thriller Paper Tiger; the showbiz-is-hell character piece Misty Green, directed by Chris

Nina’s New Wonderland. The New Eve is Rising by the New Eves was one of the most exciting debut albums of 2025, broadcasting a female energy that recalled fellow Brits the Slits and Savages. If there’s any justice in the world, the Eves will have a longer recording career than did either of those assemblages.

Irish Rep Co-founder Ciarán O’Reilly Eugene O’Neill’s The Hairy Ape—subtitled “A Comedy of Ancient and Modern Life in Eight Scenes”—spins a tale that hardly seems comedic. It depicts the undoing of a burly fireman named “Yank,” who shovels coal in the stokehole of an ocean liner: work that’s unrelentingly exhausting, soul-sapping, and grimy. The play

What can white musicians say in jazz? That’s no small question, particularly today. The goal of the Trump regime and American conservatism in general is to restore segregation (a form of apartheid) to society so there is no challenge to the political, economic, and social status of the white majority. You’d think that being the

Family dramas have been a staple of American theater at least since Eugene O’Neil thought, Hmm, maybe I’ll write something about blustery old Dad, woeful old Mom, and that doomed brother of mine. The genre doesn’t appear to be in danger of disappearing anytime soon. And, at times, it seems that the more dysfunctional the

Pleasure, Dilation, and Mythology in the Works of Reza Abdoh: A Historical Profile by Asal Azari Contradiction, infection, and a stimulation that drones. The work of Reza Abdoh warps the present moment as it straddles across seas and dual-identities. Born in 1963 in a pre-Revolution Iran, Abdoh’s father was heavily influenced by Western culture, aesthetic,

I WILLL NOT GO TO WAR (TODAY TOMORROW OR EVER FOR YOUR LOST MIND MR. PRE-SIDENT) You want me to lay on the hard tarmac my head split open my eyebrows on fire my jaw dislocated my children pulling off my shoes for their teacher me screaming, how much money do you get my father?