NYC Welcomes a Bold Theater Explosion

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Following a somewhat subdued period for international theatrical performances in New York, we are presently relishing a flourishing, primarily due to several enterprising global festivals, collaborating in unison this autumn. A certain seize-the-moment fleetingness characterizes this output, which tends to appear for brief two- or three-day stints, sometimes in recognizable locations—Lincoln Center’s captivating Festival of Firsts (in the David Rubenstein Atrium, until Oct. 23), as an example—and at times further afield.

The quintessential festival is L’Alliance’s Crossing the Line, which adroitly offers a complete program including various co-productions alongside other festivals and presenting venues. Thanks to L’Alliance, it’s possible to witness several recent successes from the Festival d’Avignon without having to face the Provençal warmth: at BAM, Crossing the Line co-produces Caroline Guiela Nguyen’s “LACRIMA” (Oct. 22-26), which recounts the unsettling and expansive history of how a solitary haute-couture dress is created; at the Japan Society, the festival co-presents the reconfigured Noh-inspired drama “Le Tambour de Soie (The Silk Drum),” Oct. 24-25; and at its own venue, in the Florence Gould Theatre, C.T.L. presents Tiago Rodrigues’s “By Heart,” a charming collective exercise in recall and bereavement, executed by a cast drawn entirely from the audience (Nov. 3-4).

“LACRIMA” at BAM.Photograph by Jean-Louis Fernandez

One of Crossing the Line’s latest collaborators is Powerhouse: International, a fresh season-long showcase of song, movement, and plays at the impressively refurbished Powerhouse Arts building—a brick-and-graffiti edifice in a former electrical station in Gowanus—where you can observe productions like the Brazilian theatre artist Carolina Bianchi’s disquieting “Chapter I: The Bride and the Goodnight Cinderella” (Oct. 23-25; see Performance below); the Brussels-based artist Soa Ratsifandrihana’s dance-and-music-rich storytelling performance “Fampitaha, fampita, fampitàna” (Oct. 28-30); and the Irish collective Dead Centre’s “Good Sex” (Nov. 5-8), where two unprepared performers—different each night—must enact an amorous scene, with an intimacy coördinator offering live guidance.

For a “best of other fests” venture, N.Y.U.’s Skirball Center has become one of the boldest and most vital presenters in the city. Its autumn programming is remarkably robust, and even though the “semester” is halfway concluded, we still have the chance to view the Norwegian troupe Susie Wang’s frightful comedy “Burnt Toast” (Nov. 5-8), and also my most eagerly awaited performance of the autumn—the spirited, frenzied, myth-laden “Infamous Offspring” (Nov. 13-15). A curious amalgamation of dance and film and theatre, it’s created by Wim Vandekeybus, whose company Ultima Vez has been a watchword for both contemporary dance-theatre and the Flemish Wave’s avant-gardism since the nineteen-eighties.—Helen Shaw

About Town

Electro Pop

The instrumentalist and vocalist Gabriela Jimeno Caldas initiated the project Ela Minus with a distinct intention: electronic music with an analog sensibility. Her inventive expedition commenced at eleven, drumming in a hardcore group in Bogotá; attending the Berklee School of Music and observing Boston’s nightclub environment spurred her to shift gears. Subsequent to graduating, she began planning and constructing synthesizers, the prominent instrument in her music, which she enhances with her singing, in English and Spanish. The pounding, rebellious tracks of her introductory album, “acts of rebellion,” from 2020, felt authentic to her punk beginnings. Minus’s much-anticipated follow-up, “DÍA,” from January, is elevated in a very different manner, its whizzing, blissful songs rendering techno akin to pop, and the electronic atmosphere organic.—Sheldon Pearce (Elsewhere; Oct. 23.)

Off Broadway

The zany comedian Natalie Palamides embodies both members of a couple in her rom-com-gone-haywire “Weer” by bisecting herself down the center: one portion of her physique showcases a pink sweater and fluttering lashes, the other portion facial hair and a spirited rubber phallus. Her “couple” experiences too much upheaval for a flawlessly paced comic evening, but relationships can be untidy. Palamides, as a physical-comedy star, relishes untidiness—there’s a wet zone near the front, with audience participants donning plastic coverings. In my preferred instant of her low-budget spectacle she succeeds in embodying a disorganised New York avenue, replete with taxis driving too near to the curb: her two sweethearts are splashed with gutter water, and, thrillingly, so are several of us.—Helen Shaw (Cherry Lane; through Dec. 21.)

Folk RockNeko Case.Photograph by Ebru Yildiz

In the early two-thousands, Neko Case surfaced as Americana’s glass howitzer, her voice as striking and commanding as it is shimmering and fragile. Case’s contributions in the Canadian power-pop ensemble the New Pornographers may possess greater dynamism and impetus, but her individual work is emotionally deeper, and more difficult to categorize. Across eight albums, Case has grounded her explorations of country, folk, and indie forms with stunning, unparalleled vocals and baffling lyrics, a practice that perseveres on the sublime “Neon Grey Midnight Green,” her inaugural album in seven years. Case is accompanied in concert by a special performer, the garage-punk act Des Demonas.—S.P. (Beacon Theatre; Oct. 22.)

Performance

“Goodnight Cinderella” is Brazilian jargon for a sedative employed by sexual abusers. In “Chapter I: The Bride and the Goodnight Cinderella,” the Brazilian writer and performer Carolina Bianchi doesn’t only present on sexual aggression; she imbibes a drugged drink and blacks out, while eight additional performers manipulate her form—depositing it into a vehicle trunk, subjecting it to a gynecological examination. At its introduction, at the Avignon Festival, in 2023, this two-and-a-half-hour endeavor in bodily investment was received as both a controversy and a career-defining triumph. Now it attains its U.S. unveiling in the post-industrial stylishness of Powerhouse Arts, on the Gowanus Canal.—Brian Seibert (Oct. 23-25.)

MoviesBen Stiller and Anne Meara.Photograph courtesy Apple TV

Ben Stiller spearheaded the engrossing, moving documentary “Stiller & Meara: Nothing Is Lost,” regarding his progenitors, the thespians Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara, and regarding their comedic duo, which attained national recognition in the nineteen-sixties. After the elder Stiller’s passing, in 2020 (Meara expired in 2015), Ben and his sibling, Amy, examine the Upper West Side dwelling where they matured and excavate their parents’ hoard of home films, self-made audio recordings, scripts, and communications. These archival treasures disclose the intricate existences of the associates, who composed and practiced at home, and expose the pressures that all four endured because there existed no separation between performance and actuality. The couple’s professional hardships and opposing goals—and their roles in their children’s careers—contribute strata of blended emotion.—Richard Brody (In theatrical release; streaming on Apple TV starting Oct. 24.)

Off Broadway

In Preston Max Allen’s “Caroline,” expertly helmed by David Cromer, a former free spirit, Maddie (Chloë Grace Moretz), reconnects with her alienated mother, Rhea (Amy Landecker)—the regretful young woman stooped in flannel, the older one icy beneath her Candice Bergen hair style. Allen’s restorative narrative, though, truly centers around Maddie’s nine-year-old daughter, Caroline (River Lipe-Smith), who has only just affirmed her pronouns and, as the title suggests, her name. For a majority of the play, the two well-intentioned grown-ups discover themselves entrenched in old grievances, and thus it’s fortunate that Caroline’s got her own decision-making grit. Lipe-Smith’s matter-of-fact maturity renders such “and the children shall lead” optimism credible; you aspire to encounter this charismatic talent subsequently to request the kid to campaign for office.—H.S. (M.C.C.; through Nov. 16.)

Bar Tab

Taran Dugal investigates a brand-new Bushwick watering hole.

Illustration by Patricia Bolaños

In present-day New York, hole-in-the-wall bars are an increasingly uncommon species, continuously forfeiting their position in the economic hierarchy to more alluring locales that are more sympathetic to influencers and their algorithms. Turbo Pizza, in Bushwick, therefore, is a welcome relief: that unusual recent dive which appears as if it’s existed for decades—luminous tubing, worn pool table, adhesive floors, and everything. On a recent weekday, a group of companions ensconced themselves into a leather cubicle, the speakers overhead blasting a pop-punk recording from the early two-thousands. One friend, noticing a segment of the menu titled “SHOTS!,” headed for the bar and requested the Jolly Rancher, a saccharine mixture of vodka, cranberry and pineapple juices, and peach liqueur. “I suspect we might be out,” the bartender stated, delving elbow-deep in the chiller before extracting a bottle of viscous scarlet fluid. Out emerged a gigantic whiskey glass. “You’re in luck. I’m going to complete you—uncertain how long this’ll endure.” The friend felt a twinge of preëmptive remorse. Back at the table, gastronomic choices were materializing: the remainder of the group was capitalizing on the kitchen’s Detroit-style pizzas, including the Burrata Soppressata, a sweet-zesty fusion of fiery honey, basil, and chile flakes. This was accompanied by the fried ravioli, which hit a mark that only a sufficiently greasy small plate can. By now, the Jolly Rancher had evaporated, as had a round of the house’s refined dirty Martini, whose deficiencies in grit were compensated for in strength. Napkins were crumpled; plates were licked. The group motioned for the tab, but encountered fierce competition for the bartender’s gaze, which was secured (in standard dive custom) on that night’s Mets contest. Even here, the attention economy triumphs.

A New Yorker Quiz

Guillermo del Toro’s “Frankenstein” is released today; can you recognize these additional spooky stories?

Published in 1948, this narrative showcases an ancient ritual in which one resident is stoned to death. Hint: “ ‘It isn’t fair, it isn’t right,’ Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.”

Published in 2009, this narrative features a towering scarecrow figure with a deformed Halloween gourd for a head. Hint: “She wondered if the strange glistening to the air had always been there but in her previous, protected life she hadn’t noticed it.”

Published in 2014, this narrative features a ring with a blue-green gem formed like an elephant, filled with the soul of a specter. Hint: “He can’t do anything to you unless you give him permission.”

P.S. Good stuff on the internet: