The Press-on-Nail Renaissance

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Perhaps befitting a group of Irishmen who opened their pandemic breakthrough album, “A Hero’s Death,” with a song featuring the declarative couplet “I don’t belong to anyone / I don’t wanna belong to anyone,” the members of Fontaines D.C. have now shaken off some of the flinty post-punk roots that brought them renown far beyond their beloved Dublin City (that other D.C.). What’s surprising, however, is the degree to which “Romance,” the band’s new record, retains the essence of their lead vocalist Grian Chatten’s boldness while inviting in arena-ready melodic and production flourishes. It sounds like growth rather than transformation, which could explain why “Starburster,” their subtle wink at hip-hop, caught on as a summer single.—K. Leander Williams (Brooklyn Paramount; Oct. 15-16.)


Off Broadway

The musical adaptation of the 2012 movie “Safety Not Guaranteed” (music and lyrics by Ryan Miller, of the band Guster; book by Nick Blaemire) is an odd, contradictory experience: its events, even when directed cleanly by Lee Sunday Evans, are thinly sketched and rather awful, but Miller’s shiny rock score jumps with wall-to-wall feel-good energy. Three Seattle journalists think they’ve found a quirky cover story when Darius (Nkeki Obi-Melekwe) stumbles across a want ad for a time-travelling companion; staking out the deluded Kenneth (Taylor Trensch) prompts all three into various kinds of out-of-town romance. Focus only on the puppyish, frolicking performances and five-alarm voices and your heart will rise; concentrate on what’s actually being said—Kenneth is unwell, and the reporters are stalking him—and it sinks again.—H.S. (BAM Strong; through Oct. 20.)


Hip-Hop

Photograph by Shaniqwa Jarvis

The Long Beach rapper Vince Staples has always been a bit of a casual comedian, but he made an official transition earlier this year with the surrealist Netflix satire “The Vince Staples Show.” The series, which follows a fictional version of its titular star, bears striking similarities to his best music—slightly off-kilter, ruthlessly caustic, employing sharp eyes and a piercing wit to survey the tragedies and absurdities of SoCal gang culture. His most recent album, “Dark Times,” balances dual roles as reticent observer and snarky hood celebrity, capping his thrilling run to becoming an unlikely leading man.—Sheldon Pearce (Terminal 5; Oct. 18.)


Classical

After a buzzing opening night complete with an indiscreet bait and switch—Josh Groban headlined after an ever-busy Cynthia Erivo had to withdraw—next up for the New York Philharmonic is a celebration of Afromodernism. The ensemble, led by the conductor Thomas Wilkins, spotlights works by Black artists, both current and antecedent, which explore facets of the African artistic diaspora. The program includes the New York première of Nathalie Joachim’s Freedom Movement-inspired cello concerto “Had to Be,” with the soloist Seth Parker Woods, as well as David Baker’s jazz-infused “Kosbro” (short for “Keep on steppin’, brothers”) and Carlos Simon’s “Four Black American Dances.” William Grant Still’s sweeping Symphony No. 4, “Autochthonous,” closes the show.—Jane Bua (David Geffen Hall; Oct. 17-18.)


Ballet

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Cory Stearns and Skylar Brandt in “In the Upper Room.”

Photograph by Quinn Wharton

American Ballet Theatre’s fall season combines older works with something new: a full-evening story ballet based on—believe it or not—Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s “Crime and Punishment” (Oct. 30-Nov. 3). The choreographer, Helen Pickett, is a veteran of William Forsythe’s experimental troupe Ballett Frankfurt and of the Wooster Group. And from the archives, the company brings back the ethereal dream ballet from Petipa’s “La Bayadère,” known as the “Kingdom of the Shades,” first staged for the company fifty years ago, by the recently defected Russian ballerina Natalia Makarova (who will be honored on Oct. 23). The new ballets include premières by Gemma Bond and Kyle Abraham, and a quirky duet set to music for the shamisen (a Japanese banjo-like instrument) by Alexei Ratmansky.—Marina Harss (David H. Koch Theatre; Oct. 16-Nov. 3.)


Movies

In “Joker: Folie à Deux,” the director Todd Phillips’s overblown and undercooked musical sequel to “Joker,” the abused and aggrieved wannabe comedian Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix), following the first movie’s killing spree, is imprisoned in an asylum, where he falls for the patient Lee Quinzel (Lady Gaga). When Arthur stands trial for murder, his lawyer (Catherine Keener) portrays him as delusionally split into two personalities. Arthur denies this and wants to take responsibility for his crimes—but Lee is in love with his Joker persona. The idea is clever, even moving, but it remains undeveloped; instead, Phillips stages garish and clumsy production numbers, never lets Gaga cut loose vocally, pushes Phoenix through showy antics, and adds horrific brutality for shock value. The superb cast is left flailing in a void.—Richard Brody (In wide release.)


The PressonNail Renaissance

Pick Three

Hilton Als on a cluster of exciting downtown galleries.

On a little stretch of Henry Street near the Manhattan Bridge, several galleries have sprung up, reflecting their founders’ curiosity, taste, and commitment to showing work you wouldn’t find anywhere else.

1. At 56 Henry Street, the gallerist Eleanor Rines has put up early models constructed by the artist Laurie Simmons, which she used in photographs of pre-“Barbie” scenarios about gender and isolation. The models are brightly colored and viewed from above, like those one might see opening a science-fiction flick. But here the horror is quiet.

Photograph by Laurie Simmons featuring fake foods such as cereal soda hot dogs pizza.

Photograph by Laurie Simmons / Courtesy the artist / 56 Henry

2. Down the street is the artist Jack Pierson’s Elliott Templeton Fine Arts, a jewel box of a space devoted to delicate ideas strongly executed. Up now are prints from a research project called “The Posture Study,” by the psychologist and eugenicist William H. Sheldon (1898-1977). The images show naked or semi-naked young men in a study that was conducted in higher education, where body shapes and presentation were thought to betray an aspect of character. Shot in black-and-white, the white men stare straight ahead, their faces blank of meaning while they’re being sized up, photographically speaking, to represent not a cross section of American life but its presumed center: the white male.

3. “We Can Grow or Wither,” the artist Josie Love Roebuck’s show at LatchKey Gallery, founded by the gallerist Amanda Uribe in 2018 to support emerging artists, celebrates the lives of women. Pieces made up of brightly colored fabric deal with the domestic, with portraiture, and with the artist’s joy in creating, all at once.


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