New York
13 Off Broadway Shows to See in September
‘The Wild Duck’
Henrik Ibsen’s searing dissections of bourgeois hypocrisies appear to be in sync with our angry times. The Norwegian playwright is even getting high-profile movie adaptations, with the Tessa Thompson-starring “Hedda” dropping in October. In New York, Simon Godwin’s production of this semi-obscure effort from 1884, about a family’s secrets coming to light, follows recent revivals of “An Enemy of the People,” “A Doll’s House” and “Ghosts.” (Through Sept. 28, Theater for a New Audience)
‘Mexodus’
In their hip-hop musical, Nygel D. Robinson and Brian Quijada portray an enslaved man and the sharecropper-turned-soldier he meets at the Rio Grande. The story looks at a different kind of Underground Railroad while also connecting to our current turbulence with an era-transcending message of solidarity. David Mendizábal directs the two-man show, which is part of Audible Theater’s series. (Sept. 9-Oct. 11, Minetta Lane Theater)
The Small Rooms Where It Happens
Grier Mathiot and Billy McEntee’s lovely “The Voices in Your Head” was staged for about 20 people at a time in a storefront church last year. McEntee’s “Slanted Floors” goes even smaller: The actors Kyle Beltran and Adam Chanler-Berat portray a couple living out their domesticity under the watch of five audience members in a Brooklyn apartment. (Sept. 9-Oct. 10, Slanted Floors Play).
A collaboration between Hansol Jung (“Wolf Play”) and the collective The Pack, co-directed by Jung and Dustin Wills, “Last Call, a Play with Cocktails” takes place in various New York City apartments, so the audience size varies depending on where the show lands on any given day. One constant: There will be drinks. (Sept. 19-Oct. 13, En Garde Arts)
‘Family’
Alec Duffy’s original staging of “Family,” an early work by the playwright-turned-filmmaker Celine Song, took place in a Brooklyn apartment for audiences of about 30. The production — outré, operatically gothic, near-feral at times — is returning for an encore run, but in a more traditional theatrical space. Let’s see how Duffy recalibrates the show. (Sept. 12-28, La MaMa)
‘The Essentialisn’t’
“Can you be Black and not perform?” Such is the question driving Eisa Davis’s new piece, in which she leads a cast of four. A Pulitzer Prize finalist for her haunting play “Bulrusher” and the co-creator of the concept album “Warriors” with Lin-Manuel Miranda, Davis remains a frustratingly underrecognized writer and performer with a lyrical, fiercely poetic voice all her own. Here is an opportunity to watch her confront and subvert the expectations placed on Black artists. (Sept. 10-28; Here Arts Center)
‘The Other Americans’
John Leguizamo’s stage career is paved with solo shows, sometimes autobiographical, in which he brings to life a gallery of characters. At first glance it looks as if his latest piece might be more of the same since it involves a Colombian American New Yorker, like the writer-performer himself. But while Leguizamo does play that central character, Nelson, he is far from alone onstage: “The Other Americans,” directed by Ruben Santiago-Hudson, is a family drama with an actual cast — it’ll be exciting to watch Leguizamo jostle with costars. (Sept. 11-Oct. 19, Public Theater)
‘Caroline’
Chloë Grace Moretz was only 17 when she starred in Scott Z. Burns’s “The Library” at the Public Theater, in 2014, but her screen career was already buzzing. Still, few expected that it would take over a decade for Moretz to return to the New York stage. At long last here she is again, under the direction of the ever-reliable David Cromer (whose recent credits include “Dead Outlaw” and “Good Night, and Good Luck”). The three characters in Preston Max Allen’s new play are all members of one family, with Moretz in the middle as the daughter of the character played by Amy Landecker (“Transparent”) and the mother of young Caroline (River Lipe-Smith). (Sept. 12-Oct. 19, MCC Theater)
‘Are the Bennet Girls OK?’
After its successful country musical “Music City” last year, the Bedlam company returns to one of its foundational authors: Jane Austen (Kate Hamill’s adaptation of “Sense and Sensibility” was an early Bedlam hit in 2014). Now Emily Breeze’s new take on “Pride and Prejudice” looks like it’s going to have fun with the Regency superstar’s best-seller: “I haven’t reread the source material since I skimmed it in high school,” Breeze claims. (Sept. 14-Oct. 19, West End Theater)
‘When the Hurlyburly’s Done’
After dedicating a decade to his “Rhinebeck Panorama” project, which includes the Apple, Gabriel and Michael family cycles, the writer-director Richard Nelson set out for war-torn Kyiv to work with the local Theater on Podil on a staging of his 2008 play “Conversations in Tusculum.” So inspired was he by the experience that he wrote the company this piece, about Ukrainian actors performing “Macbeth” in 1920. The resulting production (in Ukrainian with English supertitles) settles at Nelson’s frequent artistic home, the Public Theater, for a short run. (Sept. 16-21, Public Theater)
‘Weather Girl’
These days weather reporters like Stacey (Julia McDermott) are called upon to deliver apocalyptic accounts of a world either drowning in floods or bursting into flames along with their forecasts. Written by Brian Watkins (the creator of the time-travel Western series “Outer Range”), this solo play straddles satire and warning. (Sept. 16-Oct. 12, St. Ann’s Warehouse)
‘And Then We Were No More’
The most intriguing pairing this month may well be that of Elizabeth Marvel and Tim Blake Nelson. They are not onstage together, though: Marvel stars in this new play by Nelson, who somehow finds time to write (he also has a novel, “Superhero,” coming out in December) in between gigs as an ur-character actor (next up: the film “Bang Bang” and the series “The Lowdown”). Marvel plays a lawyer in a near-future society where the justice system is even more out of whack than our current one. (Sept. 19-Nov. 2, La MaMa)
‘Torera’
The title character of Monet Hurst-Mendoza’s play is a young Mexican woman, portrayed by Jacqueline Guillén, who yearns to make a space for herself in bullfighting — which the WP Theater’s site noncommittally refers to as “a controversial practice that we neither condemn nor condone.” Tatiana Pandiani choreographs and directs. (Sept. 20-Oct. 19, WP Theater)
‘Crooked Cross’
Sally Carson’s play premiered in Britain in 1935 and takes place just a couple of years earlier, in Germany — you can guess what the title refers to. The show, based on Carson’s own novel, presciently tracks the rise of Nazism through the prism of a divided Bavarian family. (Sept. 20-Nov. 1, Mint Theater)
‘All Right. Good Night.’
N.Y.U. Skirball plays a vital role in the New York cultural ecosystem by programming radical theatermakers from around the world, albeit for blink-and-you’ll-miss-them runs. Such is the case with this piece by the experimental German company Rimini Protokoll (“Remote New York”) in which Helgard Haug intertwines the disappearance of a Malaysia Airlines flight in 2014 with her father’s slide into dementia. Bonus: a live score by the exquisite Berlin-based musician Barbara Morgenstern and Zafraan Ensemble. (Sept. 25-27, N.Y.U. Skirball)
Every week since 1976, Metropolitan Diary has published stories by, and for, New Yorkers of all ages and eras (no matter where they live now): anecdotes and memories, quirky encounters and overheard snippets that reveal the city’s spirit and heart.
For the past four years, we’ve asked for your help picking the best Diary entry of the year. Now we’re asking again.
We’ve narrowed the field to the five finalists here. Read them and vote for your favorite. The author of the item that gets the most votes will receive a print of the illustration that accompanied it, signed by the artist, Agnes Lee.
The voting closes at 11:59 p.m. on Sunday, Dec. 21. You can change your vote as many times as you’d like until then, but you may only pick one. Choose wisely.
Click “VOTE” to choose your favorite Metropolitan Diary entry of 2025, and come back on Sunday, Dec. 28, to see which one our readers picked as their favorite.
Click “VOTE” to choose your favorite Metropolitan Diary entry of 2025, and come back on Sunday, Dec. 28, to see which one our readers picked as their favorite.
Two Stops
Dear Diary:
It was a drizzly June night in 2001. I was a young magazine editor and had just enjoyed what I thought was a very blissful second date — dinner, drinks, fabulous conversation — with our technology consultant at a restaurant in Manhattan.
I lived in Williamsburg at the time, and my date lived near Murray Hill, so we grabbed a cab and headed south on Second Avenue.
“Just let me out here,” my date said to the cabby at the corner of 25th Street.
We said our goodbyes, quick and shy, knowing that we would see each other at work the next day. I was giddy and probably grinning with happiness and hope.
“Oh boy,” the cabby said, shaking his head as we drove toward Brooklyn. “Very bad.”
“What do you mean?” I asked in horror.
“He doesn’t want you to know exactly where he lives,” the cabby said. “Not a good sign.”
I spent the rest of the cab ride in shock, revisiting every moment of the date.
Happily, it turned out that my instinct about it being a great date was right, and the cabby was wrong. Twenty-four years later, my date that night is my husband, and I know that if your stop is first, it’s polite to get out so the cab can continue in a straight line to the next stop.
Ferry Farewell
Dear Diary:
On a February afternoon, I met my cousins at the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. Their spouses and several of our very-grown children were there too. I brought Prosecco, a candle, a small speaker to play music, photos and a poem.
We were there to recreate the wedding cruise of my mother, Monica, and my stepfather, Peter. They had gotten married at City Hall in August 1984. She was 61, and he, 71. It was her first marriage, and his fourth.
I was my mother’s witness that day. It was a late-in-life love story, and they were very happy. Peter died in 1996, at 82. My mother died last year. She was 100.
Peter’s ashes had waited a long time, but finally they were mingled with Monica’s. The two of them would ride the ferry a last time and then swirl together in the harbor forever. Cue the candles, bubbly, bagpipes and poems.
Two ferry workers approached us. We knew we were in trouble: Open containers and open flames were not allowed on the ferry.
My cousin’s husband, whispering, told the workers what we were doing and said we would be finished soon.
They walked off, and then returned. They said they had spoken to the captain, and they ushered us to the stern for some privacy. As the cup of ashes flew into the water, the ferry horn sounded two long blasts.
Unacceptable
Dear Diary:
I went to a new bagel store in Brooklyn Heights with my son.
When it was my turn to order, I asked for a cinnamon raisin bagel with whitefish salad and a slice of red onion.
The man behind the counter looked up at me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do that.”
Teresa
Dear Diary:
It was February 2013. With a foot of snow expected, I left work early and drove from New Jersey warily as my wipers squeaked and snow and ice stuck to my windows.
I drove east on the Cross Bronx Expressway, which was tied up worse than usual. Trucks groaned on either side of my rattling Toyota. My fingers were cold. My toes were colder. Got to get home before it really comes down, I thought to myself.
By the time I got home to my little red bungalow a stone’s throw from the Throgs Neck Bridge, the snow was already up to my ankles.
Inside, I took off my gloves, hat, scarf, coat, sweater, pants and snow boots. The bed, still unmade, was inviting me. But first, I checked my messages.
There was one from Teresa, the 92-year-old widow on the corner.
“Call me,” she said, sounding desperate.
I looked toward the warm bed, but … Teresa. There was a storm outside, and she was alone.
On went the pants, the sweater, the coat, the scarf, the boots and the gloves, and then I went out the door.
The snow was six inches deep on the sidewalks, so I tottered on tire tracks in the middle of the street. The wind stung my face. When I got to the end of the block, I pounded on her door.
“Teresa!” I called. No answer. “Teresa!” I called again. I heard the TV blaring. Was she sprawled on the floor?
I went next door and called for Kathy.
“Teresa can’t answer the door,” I said. “Probably fell.”
Kathy had a key. In the corner of her neat living room, Teresa, in pink sweatpants and sweaters, was sitting curled in her armchair, head bent down and The Daily News in her lap.
I snapped off the TV.
Startled, she looked up.
“Kathy! Neal!” she said. “What’s a five-letter word for cabbage?”
Nice Place
Dear Diary:
When I lived in Park Slope over 20 years ago, I once had to call an ambulance because of a sudden, violent case of food poisoning.
Two paramedics, a man and a woman, entered our third-floor walk-up with a portable chair. Strapping me in, the male medic quickly inserted an IV line into my arm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his partner circling around and admiring the apartment.
“Nice place you’ve got here.” she said. “Do you own it?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, all but unconscious.
Once I was in the ambulance, she returned to her line of inquiry.
“Do you mind me asking how much you paid for your apartment?”
“$155,000,” I croaked.
“Wow! You must have bought during the recession.”
“Yeah” I said.
They dropped me off at Methodist Hospital, where I was tended to by a nurse as I struggled to stay lucid.
At some point, the same medic poked her head into the room with one last question:
“You wouldn’t be wanting to sell any time soon, would you?”
Illustrations by Agnes Lee.
‘Part of the job’
Edwin Guity was at the controls of a southbound D train last December, rolling through the Bronx, when suddenly someone was on the tracks in front of him.
He jammed on the emergency brake, but it was too late. The man had gone under the wheels.
Stumbling over words, Mr. Guity radioed the dispatcher and then did what the rules require of every train operator involved in such an incident. He got out of the cab and went looking for the person he had struck.
“I didn’t want to do it,” Mr. Guity said later. “But this is a part of the job.”
He found the man pinned beneath the third car. Paramedics pulled him out, but the man died at the hospital. After that, Mr. Guity wrestled with what to do next.
A 32-year-old who had once lived in a family shelter with his parents, he viewed the job as paying well and offering a rare chance at upward mobility. It also helped cover the costs of his family’s groceries and rent in the three-bedroom apartment they shared in Brooklyn.
But striking the man with the train had shaken him more than perhaps any other experience in his life, and the idea of returning to work left him feeling paralyzed.
Edwin Guity was prescribed exposure therapy after his train struck a man on the tracks.
Hundreds of train operators have found themselves in Mr. Guity’s position over the years.
And for just as long, there has been a path through the state workers’ compensation program to receiving substantive treatment to help them cope. But New York’s train operators say that their employer, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, has done too little to make them aware of that option.
After Mr. Guity’s incident, no official told him of that type of assistance, he said. Instead, they gave him the option of going back to work right away.
But Mr. Guity was lucky. He had a friend who had been through the same experience and who coached him on getting help — first through a six-week program and then, with the assistance of a lawyer, through an experienced specialist.
The specialist prescribed a six-month exposure therapy program to gradually reintroduce Mr. Guity to the subway.
His first day back at the controls of a passenger train was on Thanksgiving. Once again, he was driving on the D line — the same route he had been traveling on the day of the fatal accident.
M.T.A. representatives insisted that New York train operators involved in strikes are made aware of all options for getting treatment, but they declined to answer specific questions about how the agency ensures that drivers get the help they need.
In an interview, the president of the M.T.A. division that runs the subway, Demetrius Crichlow, said all train operators are fully briefed on the resources available to them during their job orientation.
“I really have faith in our process,” Mr. Crichlow said.
Still, other transit systems — all of which are smaller than New York’s — appear to do a better job of ensuring that operators like Mr. Guity take advantage of the services available to them, according to records and interviews.
A Times analysis shows that the incidents were on the rise in New York City’s system even as they were falling in all other American transit systems.
An Uptick in Subway Strikes
San Francisco’s system provides 24-hour access to licensed therapists through a third-party provider.
Los Angeles proactively reaches out to its operators on a regular basis to remind them of workers’ compensation options and other resources.
The Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority has made it a goal to increase engagement with its employee assistance program.
The M.T.A. says it offers some version of most of these services.
But in interviews with more than two dozen subway operators who have been involved in train strikes, only one said he was aware of all those resources, and state records suggest most drivers of trains that strike people are not taking full advantage of them.
“It’s the M.T.A.’s responsibility to assist the employee both mentally and physically after these horrific events occur,” the president of the union that represents New York City transit workers, John V. Chiarello, said in a statement, “but it is a constant struggle trying to get the M.T.A. to do the right thing.”
new video loaded: Protesters Arrested After Trying to Block a Possible ICE Raid
transcript
transcript
Protesters Arrested After Trying to Block a Possible ICE Raid
Nearly 200 protesters tried to block federal agents from leaving a parking garage in Lower Manhattan on Saturday. The confrontation appeared to prevent a possible ICE raid nearby, and led to violent clashes between the police and protesters.
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[chanting] “ICE out of New York.”
By Jorge Mitssunaga
November 30, 2025
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