The songs of Québécois nightingale Celine Dion are the stately vessel—or are they the iceberg?—in this campy spoof of James Cameron's 1997 romantic disaster film, written by Marla Mindelle (Sister Act) and Constantine Rousouli (Cruel Intentions) with director Tye Blue. After more than 1,000 performances Off Broadway, the ship sails onto the Main Stem this spring; original stars Mindelle, Rousouli and Frankie Grande are newly flanked by Jim Parsons (!) as meddling mother Ruth Dewitt Bukater and Deborah Cox as the ever-unsinkable Molly Brown. Time Out readers can enjoy a discount of up to 50% on select tickets thru 8/31 by using this link with code TONY26
We live in a walk-and-talk kind of town—I get it. When I’m on my morning commute or running between meetings, you can bet your ass I’m using that precious time to “catch up on calls,” which is code for “calling my mother.” However, I see more and more people roaming the streets while FaceTiming. This behavior is unacceptable.
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Listen, I can understand that the occasional tourist would want to share their trip to the Best City on Earth through the lens of their iPhone for someone back home. But this is not what’s happening here. These distracted lollygaggers are always discussing some meaningless nonsense (personally, my conversations are witty, informative and brief) with some groggy pal in a disheveled bed right here in the tristate area.
While I get the allure of a face-to-face convo, these FaceTimers are pinballing into pedestrians and completely ignoring the flow of traffic. Must I get bumped around so that you can whisper sweet nothings to your boyfriend in Yonkers?
Let’s bring back the days when New Yorkers just obnoxiously shouted into their phones with a robust disregard for others. At least then they would see where they were going.
