​Movie review: The Drama (Kristoffer Borgli, 2026)

Just to be clear, right off the bat: I really liked Kristoffer Borgli’s previous English-language movie (Dream Scenario, starring Nicolas Cage), and I’ve enjoyed performances by Zendaya (Challengers, Dune) and Robert Pattinson (Good Time, The Lighthouse). I’ve also loved and rewatched various recent films in the ‘high-stress caper’ genre, such as Uncut Gems, and If I Had Legs I’d Kick You (plus the aforementioned Good Time).  

I was, therefore, algorithmically inclined to like The Drama, with director, cast and genre all right up my alley. Perhaps this was the problem. The movie I watched right before The Drama was Die My Love (2025, Lynne Ramsay), yet another tense ride, as R-Patt and Jennifer Lawrence navigate rural isolation and marital discord to sometimes violent ends. It’s raw and visceral, and it stayed with me. 

I hate to say it, but personally, The Drama felt tame in comparison. It has some engaging framing devices: the meet-cute, with Zendaya’s Emma having deafness in one ear, and Charlie (Pattinson) being a bumbling academic, all good fun stuff. The inciting incident - a game of confession gone awry, alienating their best friends when a shocking revelation about Emma’s past is uncovered - makes for an interesting set-up, on a par with everyone dreaming about Nick Cage’s character in Dream Scenario. 

The pieces are all there. The ticking time bomb of the wedding, the fresh doubts that sow unease in the relationship, the increasingly desperate measures that our protagonists take to iron things out before the big day…it should have been a dramatic home run for me. But I just didn’t click with this film. 

I think part of it is that the lead characters - to me, at least - get less likeable as the plot progresses. They manipulate their best man and maid of honor (Mamoudou Athie and Alana Haim respectively, both doing solid jobs as support), lie to each other, and are generally unsympathetic. I tried to relate, to the circumstances of Emma’s former life, to the betrayal that Charlie must have been feeling, but I just couldn’t muster anything. 

I don’t feel like Borgli delved deep enough into what should be the abyssal ethical mire of Emma’s past. We kind of skip along the surface of it, with comedic (sometimes slapstick) reactions, from its introduction, to how it affects Charlie’s feelings (shown by his constant rewriting of his wedding speech). But it all felt a bit lighthearted, in the vain of Bridget Jones’ Diary or similar romcom fare. 
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Our increasingly-unhinged couple don’t reveal any hidden depths as chaos ensues, and the characters felt one dimensional to me. There’s some rich, dark comedy in the positions that they put their friends in, and I loved Haim’s snark and Athie’s exasperation. I wish they’d both been on screen more, as Charlie and Emma continue apace with their self-absorbed wedding prep, becoming more judgmental and unforgiving as they careen towards the big day.

To me, this felt like a Safdie Brothers-style romp, but designed by committee. The script hits a fair amount of the right notes, but it feels like it’s done so too knowingly. I felt this from the purposely-disorienting editing, to the now-well-used trope of a single-note score that is used like an aural second hand to create suspense. 

Maybe a rewatch that’s NOT after a more extreme version of the same general premise would mean I could enjoy it more, but for me - and again, I love the idea of this movie on paper - I would have been happy to see these two just walk away from each other long before the nuptials. (PO)

The Drama is playing in movie theaters across the city

Chef Andrew Fowles will join Chef Nina Compton to present a specially curated four-course menu at Compère Lapin, inspired by the culinary traditions of Jamaica. Guests are encouraged to come dressed in festive attire and enjoy an evening of Caribbean celebration featuring island flavors and ingredients. The evening celebrates the release of Fowles’ new book, My Jamaican Table, with a festive, Caribbean-inspired culinary experience. Tickets are $125 per person and include the four-course dinner, a welcome cocktail, and a signed copy of My Jamaican Table. An optional beverage pairing is available for $35 per person. The menu is as follows:

For the table: House Baked Coco Bread, Jerk-honey butter
1st Course: Curried Goat Patties, Pineapple hot peppa sauce, cilantro crema
2nd Course: Snapper & Tuna Crudo, Passionfruit, coconut, scotch bonnet, plantain chips
Main: Oxtail & Dumplings, Oxtail Ragu | Ricotta gnocchi | butter beans
Dessert Course: Sweet Potato Sticky Toffee Pudding, Toasted coconut ice cream, salted-rum caramel

The dinner takes place on Wednesday, April 1st, at 7PM. Compère Lapin is located at
The Old No. 77 Hotel, 535 Tchoupitoulas Street, in New Orleans. Seating is limited and requires advance reservations. For more information, please visit www.comperelapin.com and to make a reservation, visit OpenTable.

First Night Review: The Great Gatsby @ The Saenger Theatre
Review by Dorian Hatchett

“I like large parties. They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy." - Jordan Baker

The Great Gatsby invites the audience to partake of this jazz age spectacle, where New York’s rich and nouveau-riche have entered a competition with deadly stakes. The only winner in this game is truth, which succeeds heartily in shining a bright green light on the hollow reality of wealth and societal convention.

Based on the classic novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and featuring quotes directly from the book, this musical adaptation captures the wonder and debauchery of the post-World War 1 era in glittering lights and flawless scenery. 

Joshua Grosso as Nick Carraway is our guide, fumbling through a complex social hierarchy with as much grace as his midwestern roots can muster. His return to society after the great war is fraught; his shock at the decadence of Long Island isn’t naivety, but the realization that there are people living in an entirely different world than the war-torn one he has experienced. Grosso’s Nick is earnest and disappointed, but not totally surprised at the lengths to which his associates will go to maintain their place in the world.

Fans of the novel will be blown away by the scenery. Framing the whirlwind rekindled love affair of Jay Gatsby (Jake David Smith) and Daisy Buchanan (Senzel Ahmady) is an exquisite, technically marvelous set. Moving, shifting backdrops provide a seamless sense of time and place, with constant respectful callbacks to the source material.

There is perfect choreography: the ensemble cast are skilled dancers and narcissistic booze hounds. Part comic relief and part somber gut-check at the ephemeral nature of the joys of excess, they are a Greek chorus of honesty and naked ambition.

Likewise, the costumes (which won a Tony Award in 2024 for costume design) are a storytelling arc all their own. There is a sense of the infinite in the reflection of stage lights on pave rhinestones. Daisy and Jordan (Leanne Robinson) are two sides of the same coin; women trapped in a patriarchal mire where every choice comes with consequences. Their costume changes set a tone for each scene, adding in a layer of visual symbolism that Fitzgerald himself would have been proud of.  

See a world where everything is beautiful, and where, “Anything can happen, now that we’ve slid over this bridge.”

- The Great Gatsby: A New Musical plays at the Saenger Theatre March 24-29.  Click here for more information and ticketing
- More New Orleans theater reviews
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After a two-year relocation due to storm damage and renovations, the River Road African American Museum (RRAAM) has returned to its home at 406 Charles Street in downtown Donaldsonville, in time for its 32nd anniversary celebration. The museum hosted a rededication ceremony on March 13th, 2026.

The RRAAM is dedicated to preserving and sharing the history, culture, and contributions of African Americans in rural South Louisiana, and is around an hour's drive from downtown New Orleans. Click here for more information about the museum's history and mission. 

Safta's Table, the newest restaurant from Emily and Alon Shaya's Pomegranate Hospitality, is officially open in Lakeshore. The neighborhood Mediterranean all-day café replaicates the hummus, wood-fired sourdough pita, and salatim from Saba on a daily basis. Counter service, a casual and family-friendly atmosphere, grab-and-go offerings, and designer-curated interiors await guests, and the cafe is open for breakfast, lunch, brunch, and dinner. Full review to follow soon. For more information and menus, click here 

Join Crescent City Stage on Thursday, April 2 for Bard at the Batture: Spring Awakening — our reimagined take on Shakespeare in the Park, set along the Mississippi River. As the sun sets, enjoy a curated evening of Shakespeare's most beloved monologues and scenes celebrating love, wit, and renewal. You might hear a sonnet, a bit of Romeo & Juliet, or other familiar favorites — all performed in a family-friendly outdoor setting. Seating options include communal picnic tables and individual Adirondack chairs, with open seating and a guaranteed spot based on your ticket selection.
• Children under 4: Free (lap seating only)
• Youth ages 4–16: $20/$25
• Ages 16 and up: $35/$40
For more information and ticketing, click here

First Night Review: Small Craft Warnings by Tennessee Williams @ The Lower Depths Theatre, Loyola University
Review by Dorian Hatchett

Two men are at the end of a bar. One is the bartender, forever standing, busy hands polishing glasses and wiping the same place on the bar top for the thousandth time. His name is Monk, and he’s the proprietor of this juke joint. Monk is the definition of alone. Living above the bar, his entire world exists inside of this building, and while he is surrounded by people he knows better than they know themselves, he keeps no true confidence with any of them. 

Monk (played by James Howard Wright) is the repository of dreams and sorrows and joys, and he bears the weight of it all on a pair of stooped shoulders. Atlas himself could not have borne the weight of this sacred knowledge the way Wright hefts and wields the power of this fiefdom. He stands between the patrons and potions unbowed; the last step between thirst and inebriation. There’s a steadfast solemnity to Wright’s performance that speaks to that alone-ness, the voice of a man used to speaking aloud in an empty room.

Robert Alan Mitchell plays Doc, the other man at the bar. His words are casually seedy in a way that makes us unsure at first if he’s a harmless cad or something deeply unsettling. This is a bar where cheer feels ominous. Smiles feel pasted on. Dirty jokes are the height of hollow mirth.  

The two men discuss a woman sitting alone on the other side of the room as though she’s not there at all. She’s drunk and crying and while most of us can feel a kinship with that moment, we will only admit to the humor of the uncontrolled messiness, not the secret shame of it. That’s Violet (Kelly Holcomb) who is a woman without a place in the universe. She’s a stumbling tragedy, perhaps beautiful but most certainly broken. The men at the bar don’t even register to her, because in a way they’re right. She’s not really there. She’s not anywhere, and she can’t seem to stop feeling the pain of everywhere. 

This is Small Craft Warnings by Tennessee Williams, and there’s no place in the world more appropriate than New Orleans to play a show written to howl at the sad banality of human fragility. No place better than a city with a thousand dive bars. The Tennessee Williams Theatre Company roars into its second decade of  productions with this flawless rendition of a show meant to hone the sharp edges of the jagged pieces we all carry inside of our secret selves. 

The set designer, Nathan Arthur, has expertly crafted a set that manages to look exactly like every place we’ve all ever gotten absolutely hammered for less than $20. The Lower Depths theatre is a challenging space, and he transports us to another universe with his craft. The audience is even invited to sidle up to Monk’s Bar and buy concessions during intermission.  

The story is told in monologues and confrontations. Kevin Wheatley plays Bill, a man as crass and mean as the world that refuses to accept his unwillingness to work a “single day of his life” even if that means a life on the fringes of polite society.  His most recent benefactor, the nomadic beautician Leona, is LaKesha Glover. They are mutually driven by a desire to not be alone, but for very different reasons. Glover’s Leona is sincere and unbridled.  She’s the kind of woman that has no time or inclination for self-censorship. She feels entitled to take up space in a way that makes uptight patrons uncomfortable.  

Come and drink with this motley crew. Drink with Steve (Benjamin Dougherty), the perpetually sauced fry cook who accepted his lack of inertia and let it eat him alive. Dougherty has a knack for physical comedy that adds a sardonic twist to the tiny tragedies of everyday life. Drink with Quentin, who is too young to be there. Drink with Bobby, who only likes people who hate him, and drink with Tony the inspector, and all of their demons.

There’s a storm blowing in off of the Pacific, and if you’re going to be trapped somewhere in the downpour, it should be in Monk’s Place.  

- Small Craft Warnings plays through March 29th at the Lower Decks Theatre at Loyola University, click here for show information and box office  
​- More theater - New Orleans ON Stage for March

Are you Degenerate?
Degenerate! Hitler’s War on Modern Art @ The National WW2 Museum
Review by Jamie Chiarello

Among the Nazis’ other attributes, they were enormously petty. Before becoming a symbolic representation for the incarnation of pure evil, Hitler was an aspiring artist, painting watercolor postcards of castles, and hustling just enough to move himself from a homeless shelter into a men's home. His lifestyle and self-aggrandizement probably wouldn't have been entirely out of place in an early 2000's artsy punk house. He was rejected from the Academy of Fine arts Vienna in the early 1900's, supposedly for submitting a portfolio that lacked sufficient head studies. If Hitler had only studied and revered the human form a little more closely, might history have swayed down a kinder path?

In 1937, the Nazi party invited the German public to the 'Degenerate Art Exhibition' in Munich. This show was intended to define (by contrast) what standards good German art should be held to. I really can't imagine a more petty gesture than to organize an entire exhibition in order to say, "This art is trash!". The work in question was modern, what now seems commonplace was then a rebuff to the previously established classical standards. Classical art standards are generally rooted in Greco-Roman ideals; clarity in form, exaltation of developed skill sets which require patience, focus and practice, accuracy in proportion and anatomy, and awareness of how light creates form.

The show up at the National WWII Museum right now is a partial recreation of the original exhibition, and I believe I've really found the ideal way to process smaller exhibits like this. I start at the beginning and I move through, opening myself to direct experience of what is presented; in this case looking at the art without reading any of the plaques or anything on the walls. I make notes and do a lot of introspection. Then, I return to the beginning and read through everything, putting it all into the context provided. This is a direct way to build one's muscle for critical thinking, and also to witness how your own interpretation may vary with what is being presented. As an artist that holds a deep love for classical art, an (anti zionist) Jew, and person that has deeply struggled with mental health, I was prepared to have very conflicting personal responses to this show.

In our current moment, 'degenerate art' actually sounds pretty cool. In a more literal sense, to degenerate is to decay, to go backwards, to return to a simpler state of less complexity. The Nazis claimed that artistic expressions were direct reflections of a state of mind, and that the mind could be deemed healthy or sick. To be healthy was to be a pure blooded Aryan: strong and logical. A sick mind was basically anything that fell outside of these narrow boundaries.

The work in this show varies widely, and was included because it either represented artistic approaches that strayed from the classical (ie; Dadaism, Cubism, Expressionism, etc) or was created by a people that had been socially deemed as 'inferior' (ie; Jews, Bolsheviks, Blacks, the mentally ill, etc). Interestingly, many of the artists that fled Europe at this historic moment wound up in New York City, where they seeded the ground for the eventual emergence of what we consider the American avant-garde.

Hitler's own artwork has been condescendingly referred to as the work of a 'moderately ambitious amateur'. I imagine this posthumous criticism would cause him to writhe, and I believe that is the purpose of it. If Hitler had dipped his toes into some modern expressionist self portraiture, I wonder what the response would have been. The Nazi assertion of aesthetics was fairly simple: if it is modern it is bad. Do we simply mirror that sentiment with the opposing blanket of ideology: if it is modern it is good? Walking through this show looking directly at the artwork, my overall response was that a lot of this is underwhelming and mediocre. But then, I stumbled on a lithograph by Kathe Kollwitz and felt a gut punch of feelings I don't have words or slogans for. And I think that is the purpose of all art.

The three pieces included by Kollwitz are honestly reason enough to visit this show. But doubling back and fine combing the work in the context of the history presented offered its own gut punch. When you reach 1933 on the timeline, Hitler is announcing himself chancellor. What follows is book burnings, gutting of cultural institutions, arrests without due process, the creation of 'containment camps'.

Standing quietly, shoulder to shoulder with museum strangers, we read the writing on the wall. I turned to a young couple near me: "You see this right?" They gulped and nodded fervently. I suddenly felt like I might have a panic attack. I had to abruptly leave the museum. On the way out, I said goodbye to the friendly woman who I think was a museum volunteer sitting outside the entrance. She asked "Did you like the show?" to which I responded, "Well, it was horrifying really. Because…we are in it." I left feeling inspired to do lithography and to fight fascism in any form.

- Degenerate! Hitler’s War on Modern Art is at The National WW2 Museum until 10th May,2026
- See our picks of the city's current art exhibitions 
- Jamie Chiarello is a working artist in New Orleans. See her work at her website, Nameless Art