Collected

Alternate-Universe Knicks Logos, a Madcap Off-Broadway Debut, and a Tribeca Standout

What we’re obsessed with this week in craft and culture.

Two people sit outside a strip-mall storefront beneath a glowing Chinese-food neon sign.
Credit: Chiara Aurelia and Michelle Mao in Lindsay Calleran’s “Caity” (2026). Photograph by Jack Davis.

A Tribeca Festival standout

Making an autobiographical coming-of-age film is risky business, given the potential perils of nostalgia and navel-gazing. But now and then someone cracks the code, combining the assured touch of a filmmaker with a deep connection to the material but enough distance from it to make it artful. Charlotte Wells’s 2022 feature, Aftersun, is a recent example. And now comes Caity, Lindsay Calleran’s directorial debut, which premiered at the Tribeca Festival this week.

Caity follows its eponymous 16-year-old protagonist as she works in her family’s haunted house with her charismatic and questionably sober father. The coming-of-age mainstays are all there: fraught family dynamics, muffled queer desire, morally dubious teen boys, underage drinking. But so are the brilliant idiosyncrasies. The haunted house becomes a captivating maze for Caity’s adventures and mistakes. The screenplay deftly balances pathos with zingers. And the editing is refreshingly weird in its use of picture-in-picture and split screens—a reminder that the genre practically requires formal innovation to capture what it’s like to be a young person on the cusp of something new. If you’re in New York, there are still two screenings (opens in new window) of Caity before the festival ends this weekend. Go!

Two performers clasp hands amid rumpled bedding and flowers on a stage set.
Credit: Yerin Ha and Phia Saban in “The Maids” at St. Ann’s Warehouse. Photograph by Julieta Cervantes.

Yerin Ha’s madcap off-Broadway turn

It’s always interesting to see what projects the breakout stars of each season of Bridgerton choose to pursue after they catapult to global fame. Yerin Ha, who starred in season four of the Netflix phenomenon, opted for an off-Broadway production of The Maids at St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn. Jean Genet’s absurdist, protocamp rendering of the indignities of domestic labor under bourgeois rule is here reimagined in a modern, digital-first setting by Tony-nominated theater director Kip Williams (who directed Sarah Snook in the one-woman, multicamera Dorian Gray and Cynthia Erivo in the similarly engineered Dracula).

Ha plays a rich influencer, known only as “Madame,” who flits maniacally between venom and baby talk. She embodies the character with glee, flinging herself across the stage and throwing her head back in contagious cackles. Madame is a world away from Bridgerton’s demure Sophieand, for that matter, Jean Genet doesn’t exactly share a zip code with Shondaland. It’s fun to watch Ha in such a madcap role, matched by equally strong performances from her costars Phia Saban and Lydia Wilson. If you can make it in the next few days, there are still some tickets left (opens in new window) for the final shows.

Overhead view of a basketball tip-off at center court above the New York Knicks logo.
Credit: The New York Knicks at Madison Square Garden in 1993. Photograph by Nathaniel S. Butler / NBAE / Getty Images.

The Knicks logos that might have been

New York City this week is awash in orange and blue, from the bagels (opens in new window) to the Empire State Building (opens in new window). As the Knicks battle it out in the NBA Finals, I’ve spotted the team’s logo on the hats and T-shirts and socks of innumerable passersby, on chalk murals on the sidewalk and stickers on the subway and bootlegged via AI onto unauthorized merch (opens in new window). What must it be like to be the man who designed the logo in the first place? “There was very little directive about what the NBA wanted to see,” illustrator Michael Doret, who penned the design in 1991, told Curbed (opens in new window). Doret played around with a bunch of concepts: different fonts, different colors, some featuring the city skyline, others sans basketball, and one with a winged ball that bears a mild resemblance to a Golden Snitch. Doret—who is himself a New York native—still has a soft spot for his rejected designs, the original pencil sketches for which he shared with Curbed. Luckily they didn’t go to waste: He pulled them out of storage in 2024 for use in a Kith collection (opens in new window). Check out what might have been here (opens in new window).

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