Arts & Entertainment

Little Haiti is beginning to burst at the seams with new life. As galleries move north from Wynwood, this cultural enclave is quickly becoming the center for high art in the Magic City. One place that stays true to quality work, artists, and the neighborhood is Yeelen Gallery. It has been recognized by Vogue as a hidden gem to visit during Art Basel, and mentioned in the New York Times, so director Karla Ferguson and her husband, painter Jerome Soimaud, have much to be proud of. His exhibition “Black Freedom” described the faces and stories of Little Haiti in charcoal and graphite on large-scale canvases. This gallery has a longer history in the area than others that have popped up and is dedicated to “contemporary urban culture.” It pushes back against gentrification by showing pieces by international artists who make work that speaks to both an art crowd and the neighborhood’s unique mix of cultures. Yeelen concentrates not only on art but also on social practice, making it more than just a place to watch the walls.

Readers’ choice: Wyn 317

It’s not typical that a self-taught artist dude, learning how to mix oils in his old Edgewater apartment, hat on head, glass of vodka in hand, ends up ten years later selling out booths at Volta and Scope art fairs. But Farley Aguilar is no typical man. He possesses true talent. Not only has his obsessive nature served him well in developing his skill, but also his critical eye has continued to improve him. The Nicaraguan-born, Miami-raised prodigy didn’t excel at Southwest Miami Senior High but found inspiration poking around the works of philosophers at the University of Miami Law Library — a school he did not attend. As an outsider artist, his images are cinematic, with spooky scenes and stories ready to be told. The colorful canvases feature humanity at its most haunting and warped. But you can’t stop looking. A loner, Aguilar is forever critiquing the mob mentality and finding new ways to explore this human tendency he’ll never understand. This is an artist whose brakes will not be pressed anytime soon. Expect him to keep on trucking all the way to the top.

The most surprisingly touching show this past year came with birds — live parrots to be exact. Bik Van der Pol is actually a Dutch couple: Liesbeth Bik and Jos Van der Pol. They create postmodern work that speaks both to the location where it’s being shown and to the environment. So in response to the asinine move by the Florida Department of Environmental Protection to prohibit use of the words “climate change” (which officials are now disputing), the artists created an installation at PAMM that highlighted the issue. They used live parrots in “Speechless,” which was on display August 13, 2015, through February 21, 2016, and played T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland to these feathered dinosaurs. But the birds demonstrated their own personalities and let the love light shine. They sang songs from the American songbook and danced and formed attachments. In some ways, the most magnificent thing about the show was that it brought viewers closer to the natural world through the human-like qualities of these creatures. Though they returned home to Simbad’s Birds & Pets, they will forever have left behind the message that climate change is real and that protecting the natural world is an essential part of life here on Earth.

Tim Chapman is an old-school journalist. He began photographing at a young age during Miami’s first wave of Cuban immigration in the 1960s. For decades after that, he consistently captured the Magic City’s seedy underbelly while working at the Miami Herald. HistoryMiami’s “Newsman: The Photojournalism of Tim Chapman,” curated by another longtimeHeraldphotographer, Al Diaz, honors the lensman’s storied career and commitment to documenting South Florida history. The exhibit features Chapman’s life’s work, which he donated to the museum in 2013, as well as cameras, press passes, notebooks, and other artifacts. Chapman’s photos, which will be shown through August 14, 2016, capture the essence of some of Miami’s most tumultuous moments. One shot shows crack merchants trying to climb down from the top of Coconut Grove’s Mutiny Hotel after they hear a distant siren. Another displays a Cuban baby being hoisted in the air after arriving at Eglin Air Force Base during the Mariel Boatlift. For Chapman, these moments weren’t just news; they were the story of mankind in the subtropics.

No one threatens a lawsuit better than Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump. The racist cheese doodle hands them out like bite-size candies on Halloween. Of course, for every asshole, there is an equal and opposite jokester. If Trump is the best lawsuit threatener, New York-based artist Bryan Zanisnik is the world’s best lawsuit bluff-caller. He was slapped with a cease-and-desist order by author Philip Roth in 2012 the very first day of a five-week performance piece that involved the artist’s silently reading one of Roth’s works in a clear container while baseball cards and uncirculated U.S. currency swirled in the air around him. Rather than back down, Zanisnik stuck his tongue out at the author and finished his series. Roth threatened a lawsuit but never did a thing — just like Trump. It left an impression on Zanisnik, though. So this past January 30, when Zanisnik debuted his latest installation at Locust Projects, the whole thing revolved around Roth’s obsession with control and the artist’s intent to stick it to him. Zanisnik built a forest of stucco pillars in Locust Projects’ main space, each featuring tear-away holes that revealed hundreds of books written by and about Roth. It is a daring and hysterical work, and so far, Roth has been silent. Hip hip hooray, art lives to see another day.

Before a certain developer got a museum on the bay named after him, and before Miami’s 1 percent broke from a certain city to form its own art institution, there was the Wolfsonian-FIU. Founded in 1986 and opened to the public in 1995, the museum focuses on the role of design from the 1850s to the 1950s thanks to the Mitchell Wolfson Jr. Collection of Decorative and Propaganda Arts. Housed in the fortress-like building that is the former home of the Washington Storage Company, the museum is a beacon of culture in an area better known for late-night partying and barely-there swimwear. With 30 years under its belt, the space continues putting on some of the best programming, including 2015’s “Philodendron: From Pan-Latin Exotic to American Modern,” which examined beloved South Florida greenery as an icon in design. The Wolfsonian is open daily except Wednesday, and admission costs $10 (members get in free). A complimentary tour of the collection begins at 6 p.m. every Friday — it’s highly recommended if you want the museum’s knowledgeable staff to put the works into context.

Readers’ choice: Pérez Art Museum Miami

One of the telling signs of a successful artist is his mass appeal. Do people like his work? Are they purchasing it? Is his stuff found in museums across the country? But for an artist who occasionally uses the sides of buildings as canvases, the biggest question is: Will people take pictures in front of his mural? The answer to that determines everything in our social-media-conscious society. The work of artist Magnus Sodamin — New York-born, Miami-bred — is found all over the streets of the Wynwood Arts District, and everyone loves snapping photos. In 2015, when the shopping mall the Wynwood Block was ready to open, Sodamin was tapped to give the building’s exterior a bit of color. A combination of brilliant hues such as magenta, yellow, royal blue, and black all trickle down the walls. At first, they might appear like simple splatters of color, but plenty of thought went into the piece. And it makes for a memorable backdrop for your next Wynwood selfie.

After 13 years of sobriety, street artist Joaquin Lamar Hailey, better known as Chor Boogie, fell off the wagon about two years ago. So the San Diego-born artist, along with his wife, performance artist Elizabeth Bast, made a spiritual and medicinal journey to Gabon, Africa. There, they performed a ceremony involving the root iboga. After ingesting it, Hailey entered the spirit world. He destroyed his deeply rooted negativity, threw it in a trash can, and set it on fire. Love shot out of his third eye, cleansing him of the desire for toxins and inspiring him to create Hieros Gamos outside the Macaya Gallery. The painting depicts angry faces and stern eyes blossoming into something of a lovebird. Instead of depicting crinkled eyebrows, Boogie spray-painted love-soaked eyes and a heart beaming from a third eye. It is a testament to his rebirth.

Buildings painted in psychedelic patterns are everywhere in Little Haiti. It’s an aesthetic philosophy that local artist Marcus Blake calls “tapenology.” Blake was born in Jamaica but moved to Miami at a young age. Though he’s never returned to his homeland, visions of lush green fields occasionally float back to him. Once in Miami, Blake began innocently drawing psychedelic swirls on his mother’s walls. It was the most natural act for him. Today, his work can be seen along NW Second Avenue from 64th to 80th streets. Like the veins in our palms or the vines of a tree, tape marks Blake’s path along Little Haiti’s streets. “That’s my mentality: Go become a vine. Plant a seed and then ride it — don’t map it out; just feel it,” says Blake, whose work is divinely symmetrical. “These processes are the way of knowing myself. It’s a meditation.”

What was once a rundown warehouse and residential district has transformed in a handful of years to the hottest neighborhood in the city. Tons of tours by bus, bike, car, and foot make their way through Wynwood’s streets, but many offer scant insight into the colorful culture of art and commerce. If you really want to learn Wynwood’s history and comprehend the vibrant murals, turn to the artists. Miami’s Best Graffiti Guide runs a variety of daily tours led by two guys who dedicated their lives to Wynwood’s art scene years before iconic developer Tony Goldman sparked the neighborhood renaissance. Ryan the Wheelbarrow of Wynwood Mural Tours began offering free bike tours every Sunday at 4 p.m. a few years ago. Local artist Pedro AMOS, who had been a graffiti artist for decades, soon started his own Wynwood tour. The two joined forces this past January, and they have more collective knowledge of this scene than the Greater Miami Convention and Visitors Bureau (with whom they work). In fact, they are the official tour guides of Wynwood Walls. Tours range in price from $20 to $100. The guides also offer paint demo events for large groups — the cost is about $1,000 for those who wish to try their hand at graffiti on practice walls. The “can control crash course” comes with snacks, beverages, and supplies.

Back in the day, A/V kids were considered nerdy. But in the age of the internet, there is almost nothing cooler than a plain old film camera and some slides from a 1982 trip to Acapulco. This is what makes OMM (Obsolete Media Miami) the best alternative art space in Miami right now. Is it gross and edgy? Not exactly. It’s clean and subversive in a different way. The experimental project was founded in the Design District last year by artists Kevin Arrow and Barron Sherer. The two, who have been around town for a long while, have gathered a notable collection of 35mm slides, cassette tapes, reel film, and archival motion-picture materials, among other “obsolete” media. And some museums have sent stuff to add to the pair’s inventory. OMM is also a resource for other creative people to dip into and get inspired through workshops, lectures, and performances. These guys have analog everything and equipment for days. This isn’t about nostalgia alone. This is about art and preserving the past of both the Magic City and a time when the A/V club meant something.

Beauty is everywhere, even in ruins. At least that’s what David Bulit believes. And he captures that every time he hits the shutter of his camera. The author of Lost Miami: Stories and Secrets Behind Magic City Ruins and the mastermind behind the blogs Abandoned Florida and Autopsy of Architecture, Bulit has long been fascinated by Miami’s abandoned past. But it was through urban exploring that Bulit truly discovered his passion for photography. And after shooting an abandoned prison in Big Cypress, he was hooked. The photographer launched Abandoned Florida in 2010 as a way of sharing his work. His blog, which consists of a series of abandoned sites, eventually paved the way for his book, Lost Miami. Published in 2015, it catalogues the Tamiami Trail’s Monroe Station (which was recently destroyed by fire), the Nike missile site on Krome Avenue near the Tamiami Trail (which was bulldozed last year), and the Coconut Grove Playhouse (which might be conserved). Though Bulit’s work certainly conveys a sense of adventure, his goal, he says, is “to promote [the] preservation and restoration of all these buildings.” Here’s to hoping Bulit’s mission prevails. But even if it doesn’t, at least we’ll always have his photos.

While theaters across the globe have converted to digital cinema, Miami’s Secret Celluloid Society insists on going old-school. For 72 weeks, the Society’s imaginative cinephiles presented midnight screenings of cult favorites in their original 35mm format. It was all part of Coral Gables Art Cinema’s After Hours programming. Titles ranged from blood-splattered operatic westerns like The Wild Bunch to bonkers Japanese horror like House to art-cinema linchpins like Eraserhead and Brazil. Locally sourced favorites such as Scarface and Miami Connection lit up the screen, and the Society even brought out Mad Max: Fury Road on 35mm — it was the only Miami-Dade theater to do so. The Secret Celluloid Society ended its Gables Cinema residency April 2 with, appropriately enough, Scorsese’s The Last Waltz before moving to the larger O Cinema, which will mostly retain the wonderfully obstinate insistence on 35mm. Luckily, Gables Cinema continues to show after-hours films.

While arthouse cinemas seem to be shuttering across the nation, independent film culture is as vibrant as ever in Miami. Just ask nonprofit film house O Cinema, which has three theaters across the city. The newest installment, at the old Byron Carlyle Theater, transformed one of Miami Beach’s most iconic playhouses into a center for independent film and classic movies. Featuring plush vintage seats and a mezzanine balcony fashioned out of carved wood, O Cinema Miami Beach transports moviegoers to glamorous old Miami, where you can enjoy your popcorn and a $7 glass of wine while watching some of the best offerings in contemporary and classic independent film. Hosting a variety of films every day — from the latest Palme d’Or winner at Cannes to cult classics like Natural Born Killers and Mommie Dearest — O Cinema Miami Beach is the perfect place to take yourself out on a date.

Readers’ choice: O Cinema

This past March 15, Florida voters chose Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton for the fall presidential race. That same day, Bruce Stanley of Occupy Miami introduced Rise Up Miami, the city’s inaugural radical film festival. It was a symbolic choice, he says, because America is at a critical moment. The 2016 election is rapidly being defined by fear, anger, and polarizing candidates. The two-day cinematic celebration of resistance aimed to inform and inspire. It included the participation of Black Lives Matter Alliance of Broward, Miami Dream Defenders, SmashHLS, and Food Not Bombs Miami/Fort Lauderdale.Six topical films were screened, followed by conversations with activists. Taking place in Little River’s serene Earth ‘n’ Us Farm, the festival was free and included a community-driven potluck and drinks.It united Miami’s socially conscious and radical communities through visionary art.

The Shops at Sunset Place was your high-school hangout. Remember those dorky manifests about groups of ten or more not allowed to loiter? You and your crew laughed at them. And because those were the days before Snapchat, you didn’t really take pictures of the signs. If only you could have added a witty pic to your local story with a few emojis floating around! Alas, these days, you don’t hang out as often at the mall as you used to. But there’s one thing that has remained constant: the movie theater. AMC Sunset Place 24 is one of the few commercial theaters that shows more than the new releases. It also puts on works of small independent studios. The theater entrance is hidden on the third floor of the towering shopping center, and its ticket booths are located a level below. The seats might be a little old and worn, but the fact that there’s a new bar in the lobby allows you to fully enjoy that you are now an adult. Booze while you watch a flick? You would have never thought this possible ten years ago when you were hanging out on the roof of the parking garage.

Readers’ choice: Cinépolis Coconut Grove

Sequels, especially comedies, typically pale in comparison to their predecessors — it ain’t easy being funny the first time around, let alone in the second installment. However, if you’re comedy duo Ice Cube and Kevin Hart, the odds might be in your favor. The followup to their 2014 movie, Ride Along, brought the crime-fighting team to the sunny streets of Miami. There was an addition to the group: Olivia Munn. When New Times interviewed the actress earlier this year, she said this of the film: “Especially with Cube and Kevin, it was so funny… of course it’s going to get funnier the second time around as they get more comfortable.” She wasn’t wrong. The two comedians play off each other throughout the film, and their delivery feels natural. The setting, of course, is the lavish Miami Beach life.

Merriam-Webster defines the word “bloodline” as “a sequence of direct ancestors especially in a pedigree.” But for fans of the Netflix series Bloodline, that word means something slightly different. The show follows the Rayburns, a working-class family in the Keys with plenty of secrets. The series is best described as a cinematic roller coaster. It ticks, ticks, ticks you up gently — getting your adrenaline rushing — and just when you think it’s safe to breathe, here comes the plunge. Aside from the episodic thrills, the best part about this series is that it’s filmed locally. Three cheers for those Florida film incentives. The shots of rustling trees and sandy beaches are enough to make you want to spend a weekend in the Keys with the Rayburns. The first season was uploaded onto the streaming platform in spring 2015, and Season 2 became available this past May. Although it might be too soon to judge if Netflix will produce a third season of the drama, fans are hopeful.

Jon “Stugotz” Weiner of The Dan Le Batard Show With Stugotz is an Everyman’s man. He is red-faced, white-knuckled, emotional, unapologetically cocky, cliché-driven, and transparently childish. As his cohost Dan Le Batard routinely says, sports is akin to the toy department, so why can’t we act like kids? Stugotz gets us. He is us. He represents us, even the bad parts of us. He goes to work hung-over. He barely listens to what anyone says. He complains. He brags. He’s a seesaw of emotions bound to be scooped up by a tornado and thrown to the other side of an argument without a moment’s notice. Stugotz is the who we would be on sports radio if we had the talent to be on sports radio. Not all superheroes wear capes. Some are sports radio hosts wearing unlaundered shirts. Stugotz is the sports radio man South Florida deserves.

Readers’ choice: Dan Le Batard

Waking up in the morning and dragging our tired butts to work isn’t always easy, but we do it. We wake up at same time every day. We take the same route to work. We stop at the same coffee place. And we listen to the same radio station during all of this. Morning FM radio hosts are like a part of our family. They matter because they make our day easier — and that’s what makes Evelyn Curry and the Lite 101.5 FM crew our favorites. There’s light-hearted, not-too-serious fun mixed with music that’s work-safe but not exactly elevator music. Curry and her crew are easy on the ears and distract us from the clock at work just enough to almost be disappointed when it’s time for their show to finish. We say “almost,” because the closing of the show also means we are closer to the end of the workday. Curry’s friendly stories and segments make us happy we listen and keep us coming back every morning.

Readers’ choice: DJ Laz

When Univision Radio announced last year that it would relocate its studios from Coral Gables to Doral, longtime radio host Bernadette Pardo joked that she would have to ditch her bicycle for a car to get to work. The host of Pedaleando con Bernie (Pedaling With Bernie), Pardo’s 7-to-9 a.m. drive-time show, doesn’t actually ride on two wheels during her morning radio program, but she uses the bicycle as a metaphor, often commenting that she’s pedaling with her guests. The Cuban-born host has worked as a journalist for some 30 years, receiving more than 100 awards and reporting from across the Americas and Europe. Pardo adds a calm, level-headed voice to Miami’s morning-radio dial.

Depending upon the day, he might be a curmudgeonly old Jewish man, a community college math professor from Sri Lanka, a quirky TV astrologer, or a chonga. Underneath the wigs and the accents, Freddy Stebbins is arguably Miami’s best-loved and most creative comedian, known for the more than 100 characters he takes to the stage with hilarious results. His characters parody every stereotype in Miami, and they emerge from Stebbins’ deep fascination with the Magic City’s diversity and quirkiness. “I love the whole Miami thing,” he says. “This place is fascinating and full of material.” Growing up here, Stebbins says, he became popular by doing funny accents. He trained for five years in L.A. at the Groundlings improv school and then returned home to Miami. During the day, he’s a social science professor at Miami Dade College’s Wolfson Campus, where he teaches a mix of sociology, government, civics, and anthropology — often in character. His classes are among the most popular on campus. For seven years, he hosted a beloved Thursday-night standup show at John Martin’s Irish Pub & Restaurant in Coral Gables. Two years ago, the show moved to Taurus in Coconut Grove, where it routinely attracts Miami’s best comics. You’ve also heard him on Miami’s home-grown radio station, Shake 108, where he voices station tags and commercials (in character). “We can’t live here if we don’t make fun of this wild, crazy basket case of a community we live in,” he says.

It took us a while to figure out that Athena Dion was suddenly dominating South Florida’s drag scene. The reason: She can look different every time she appears. There she was during last year’s Miami Beach Pride celebration, when she sashayed down the runway like a supermodel in a show thrown by L.A. fashion label Marco Marco. In February, she made the perfect Posh Spice stand-in as part of a Spice Girls tribute act assembled for Mel B’s visit to Sugar Factory. At a recent edition of the Lab, the Friday-night party she hosts at Score, she was dressed in her best Wednesday Addams cosplay. Other times, her look ranges from Latina diva to steal-your-man to crazy club kid. Whatever the look, most times she appears every bit the goddess her name suggests. But once you learn how to spot her, you’ll notice her everywhere. From ads for the Miami Beach LGBT Visitors Center, to stomping the pavement in front of Palace, to delivering brunch shows at Señor Frog’s, there she is. Catch her if you can.

Readers’ choice: Elaine Lancaster

Oftentimes, love doesn’t make any sense — neurologically, psychologically, or emotionally. In a bold and mesmerizing production of Stephen Sondheim’s contrapuntal Passion, Zoetic Stage offered an interpretation of love that was irrational, unpredictable, even implausible. The company rendered it beautifully. In the elliptical story, Giorgio (Nicholas Richberg), a military captain in 19th-century Europe, is set to wed a gorgeous aristocrat until he is transferred to a provincial outpost. There, he is gradually ensnared by Fosca (Jeni Hacker), the sickly, clingy sister of a fellow soldier. Resisting Fosca’s advances until her adoration becomes all-encompassing, Richberg effortlessly navigated his character’s unorthodox transition from revulsion to infatuation. Hacker delivered her best work in years, tapping into reservoirs of melancholy that humanized her Machiavellian character. Director Stuart Meltzer’s ambitious staging, which included a central rotating platform and a three-tiered set, captured the agony and ecstasy of Sondheim’s vision while studding it with occasional black humor. Ellis Tillman’s resplendent costumes and Caryl Fantel’s sublime musical direction of Sondheim’s haunting score complemented a production that will be a benchmark for years.

How exactly does one dramatize a theoretical concept such as the multiverse? It’s easy if you’re Morgan Freeman with a giant network budget, but for a playwright limited to two actors, a stage, a lighting bank, and sound cues, going beyond the wormhole takes a Big Bang of ingenuity. GableStage audiences received one thanks to director Joseph Adler’s stimulating production of Nick Payne’s Constellations, a play about a working-class beekeeper (Antonio Amadeo) and an Ivy League physics professor (Katherine Amadeo) who meet at a party. And meet again. And meet once more. And live together — or maybe they don’t — and suffer terminal illness and corrosive breakups. Or maybe they don’t. Like a dealer shuffling a card deck of infinite possibilities, Adler transitioned his pliable actors through multiple probabilities, shifting consciousness at a moment’s notice. Katherine and Antonio Amadeo, married offstage and eternally conjoined in Payne’s quantum drama, provided a master class in the subtlety of performance, fully inhabiting all 50 or so shades of reality — even if many didn’t last longer than a Vine video. It should have been enough to make Einstein and Sanford Meisner alike smile from the great beyond.

Peter Sinn Nachtrieb’s Boom is a comedy that tells the story of a straightforward journalism student and an awkward marine biologist whose uncomfortable attempt at casual sex ends up saving their lives. But it also leaves the fate of humanity in their hands (and reproductive organs). The play has been interpreted across the nation to positive reviews, but director Oleg Kheyfets was determined to make this iteration a lively snapshot of present-day Miami. So the Basement Project, a new theater company run by Kheyfets, produced and presented Boom this past January 7 through 23. Aiding the company were local disco-funk favorite Afrobeta, which composed and performed the funky and mysterious soundtrack. The band’s vocalist, Cuci Amador, also starred as Barbara,Boom‘s guiding voice from the future. She explained to the audience how civilization persevered and became an underwater society. In many ways, this is Barbara’s story. If this were a Greek tragedy, Barbara would be our chorus, directing us through the various levels of disaster the characters face.

The resident company at the Arsht Center’s Carnival Studio Theater cemented its regional dominance this season. With a slate of just three shows, director Stuart Meltzer made each one count, excelling in works that included an edgy world premiere by a South Florida playwright, a brainy rom-com about feminism, and a chamber musical by a national treasure. Meltzer imbued the shows with distinct directorial flourishes. There were jazzed-up, staccato courtroom deliberations in Stripped and an intoxicating moving platform and a gender-bending supporting cast in Passion. The designs for each show reimagined the carnival space, from a blind Lady Justice towering behind the quarreling mortals in Stripped to the ladders of opportunity dangling existentially above the manicured homes in Rapture, Blister, Burn. Then there was the multitiered birthday cake of a set in Passion, reflecting the show’s multiple layers. Exceptional acting from a stable of the region’s finest professionals made it all look easy, and the well-curated mix of shows ensured that audiences always had plenty to discuss on the car ride home.

Readers’ choice: Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts

Jeff Quintana, cofounder of Miami’s Villain Theater, woke up on a Central Park bench every morning for two weeks in the dead of New York City’s winter. It was 2009, and he had just left Miami to pursue his love of comedy —a passion not readily supported in the Magic City. He was on a mission to learn from some of comedy’s greats and then bring that knowledge back home. Last August, Quintana and Peter Mir cofounded the Villain Theater, a microtheater that operates in the back of Made at the Citadel in Little River. The budding playhouse hosts Chicago-style improv, sketch, and standup shows while also offering workshops for aspiring performers. The select improv groups include the all-female Orange Is the New Wack, headed by Jannelys Santos and Sheela Dominguez. It provides a wry take on female inmate culture. Each set lasts an hour, surpassing what most comedy clubs in our city can offer in both quality and quantity.

Lindsey Corey has been an emerging talent for years, displaying range in roles as varied as a roller-skating muse in Slow Burn’s Xanadu and a bumptious Southern fundamentalist in Zoetic Stage’s The Savannah Disputation. But last November’s production of Stripped, also from Zoetic, will be remembered as the role that launched her into the upper tier of South Florida actors. Christopher Demos-Brown’s world-premiere play is a quick-witted, emotionally trenchant meditation on parenting in the 21st Century. Its double-entendre title references a character that could slide easily into a cliché — the stripper with a heart, who loves and provides for her child but not in a way that society accepts. Because the role had never been performed outside of a play reading, Corey had no precedent, and her inventive decisions set an impossibly high standard for future productions. Playing a Russian immigrant who moonlights in the sex industry, Corey was alternately sensual and dolorous, vigorous and reflective, funny and heartbreaking, owning her character’s accent as comfortably as the wobbly stripper pole at center stage, where she mastered the kind of choreography they don’t teach at New World.

Jennifer Haley’s drama The Nether posits a certifiably creepy, uncomfortably plausible near-future in which the internet has evolved into a vivid virtual-reality realm called the Nether. There, users can explore fantasies from the comfort of their recliners. The play pivots on a police investigation into a lurid usage of the Nether by a man named Sims, who created a pedophilic pleasure garden. Sims’ Peter Galman anchored Area Stage’s unsettling production. He played his “offline” self, combating an interrogation in a spartan police station with unctuous evasiveness and his online avatar, a foppishly dressed proprietor of degenerate escapism. By offering both a cunning manipulator and a diseased man, Galman achieved a remarkable feat: He convinced the play’s audience that Sims’ virtual vileness had a preventive merit in the real world. Even if you think you hated everything he stood for, he was spellbinding enough to win every debate. If prison weren’t possibly in his future, perhaps politics could be.

Each character in Terrence McNally’s inside-theater homage It’s Only a Play is a target for the playwright’s relentless barrage of satirical darts — a pretentious British director, an empty-headed producer, a hygiene-challenged critic, and others. They all gather in a New York City townhouse to await the merciless overnight reviews of a budding playwright’s Broadway debut. GableStage’s expertly paced, imaginatively cast production featured one of the season’s best ensembles, but Lourelene Snedeker was the brightest bulb in its marquee. She portrayed McNally’s interpretation of another sturdy theatrical archetype, the diva with a drug habit and an ankle bracelet; she showed a perfect combination of regality, crudeness, and haughty showbiz derision. Though McNally’s play is a comedy, Snedeker found something tragic in her character’s frequent white-powder escapes from reality. By the time she asserted, in her brief Act II soliloquy, “I’m going to go down there and look every one of those motherfuckers in the face… I’m an actress, a damn good one,” she had found the kind of fire, pathos, and emotional hurt that didn’t seem to exist on the page.

In A Minister’s Wife, GableStage’s musical comedy of manners, mores, and marriage at the turn of the 19th Century, Christian Vandepas played the show’s unorthodox disrupter: a shy, retiring poet named Eugene Marchbanks, who falls madly in love with Laura Hodos’ title character. Fighting her blustery husband (Jim Ballard) for her cosseted affections, Vandepas embodied Marchbanks as the sensitive beta to Ballard’s barrel-chested alpha male. Conjuring, at first, the sort of awkward loners Crispin Glover used to play in cult movies, Vandepas’s contribution deepened along with Marchbanks’ love. It was a performance of smitten effervescence, a catalog of reverential gazes and lost-puppy affectation, commanding our attention even when he wasn’t saying anything. More than anyone else onstage, he transcended the show’s problematic operetta parts, which often felt like they were intruding on a great play. He may have been the naive boy to Ballard’s towering man, but music proved the gateway to this poet’s romantic soul. Audiences left the theater a little lovelier after hearing him reveal it.

Watching Zoetic Stage’s sportive Rapture, Blister, Burn felt like auditing a semester in Post-Feminist Theory. If that sounds dense, dull, and white-paperish, it wasn’t. In fact, it was funny, revealing, and intellectually raucous. The cast was perfectly chosen to personify their generations, genders, and viewpoints. There was Mia Matthews as Catherine, a statuesque writer of impenetrable feminist tomes with a rocky romantic past; Margery Lowe played her ex-roommate, now unhappily married to Catherine’s former lover; Todd Allen Durkin (or Stephen G. Anthony) portrayed that divisive man, who has settled into a middle age of beer bellies and creative rigor mortis; Barbara Bradshaw played Catherine’s spunky mother; and Lexi Langs was a jaded millennial who enrolls in Catherine’s summer feminist seminar. They formed a clashing Hydra of opinions on topics spanning from Phyllis Schlafly to porn addiction and horror movies. A marriage imploded and was reconstructed as the play meandered to its denouement, but it was the cast’s impressive verbal jousting that kept this potentially dry production whip-smart. It would have made Betty Friedan proud — when it wasn’t driving her crazy.

For Actors’ Playhouse’s production of The Toxic Avenger: The Musical, Gene Seyffer and Jodi Dellaventura were tasked with envisioning a New Jersey cityscape overwhelmed by garbage. Tempting as it would have been to simply use Google Earth images of Newark, designers instead developed a unique presentation of a radioactive dystopia that brought to mind graphic novels. You wanted a shower after just looking at it. But there was more to the precise arrangements of leaking toxic vats than met the eye. Each hazardous container ended up transforming smoothly into another object in a future scene. There was the desk in the corrupt mayor’s office, the Toxic Avenger’s couch, and the bedroom furniture of his beloved blind damsel. Then there was the immaculately gross tower of trash at center stage, to which an audience member on opening weekend added her own discarded wine cup — a decision that, in its highly offensive way, complemented the designers on their authenticity.

Some comedy venues ask that revelers stick to a two-drink minimum. But visitors to Gramps’ monthly showcase, Late-Nite Comedy, are lucky if they can leave standing up. That’s an exaggeration, but honestly, what better place is there for locals to cut their teeth in comedy than in front of a dive-bar crowd? Every last Tuesday of the month, drinkers warm up at happy hour and file into Shirley’s back room for standup that runs the gamut from laugh-out-loud to totally avant-garde. It’s a rad scene, something fresh and hot in South Florida. It’s so hot, in fact, that it inspired Hannibal Buress to hang around and perform a surprise set the next day. Quincy Jones used the venue to deliver an uproarious good time. So Shirley’s continues to expand in the funny direction. It’s warm and inviting, and with a capacity of about 100 standing, it offers the chance for once-in-a-lifetime intimate comic experiences. Just try not to heckle. They’ll totally kick you out.

On her Instagram, her bio reads “directing vibes,” but Julieanna Goddard, AKA YesJulz, does more than that. She has turned partying into a full-time job. Not only does this make her one of the city’s most powerful entrepreneurs, but she’s also fun to follow on social media. Her Snapchat is where she really shows off, but her Instagram boasts 350,000 followers and counting. From jet-setting all over the country to showing her sense of style and music, Goddard elevates her social game from millennial narcissist to leading tastemaker. Her social is so hot that in April, the Champagne Papi himself, Drake, had Goddard meet with his fans and hand out T-shirts in Wynwood. She repaid him by getting #VIEWS trending locally. Because whatever YesJulz touches turns to social media gold.

Kristen Hewitt has her hands full: She’s a wife, a mother of two adorable young girls, a social media consultant, and one of the most prominent faces you’ll see when you turn on Fox Sports Sun. Yet Hewitt also has a blog, Mommy in Sports. It is a wonderfully honest look inside the life of not only Hewitt raising her two girls but also others’ similar experiences. The blog mixes content such as kids’ activities, funny or educational stories, and advice from guests. There are also tidbits and video interviews related to Hewitt’s daytime job. For any young woman looking for a role model, Hewitt is about as good as it gets. Mommy in Sports draws in readers who don’t love sports, as well as those who don’t have children. It’s a testament to the quality of the content and writing. In an increasingly DIY world where people seek out information and advice on the web, Hewitt’s blog stands out. Add it to your favorites tab.

In the post-internet age, social media is often the key to success. But no one will ever be as savvy or meme-worthy as DJ Khaled. He’s the best. All he does is win. Just know. Business is booming. LION!! He’s a human catch-phrase factory, and he’s not even trying. He has a restaurant, a clothing line, a record label, a headphone brand, and more charted hip-hop megahits than many radio DJs can even dream of. But most of all, he has the keys to success. He’s a generous god, and he welcomes the world into his home every five minutes via Snapchat. Watch him bless up every morning, come downstairs, and see what Chef D has for breakfast (probably turkey bacon and, of course, water). See him talk while on the treadmill. See him water his angels. See him get lost on a Jet Ski or drink apple Cîroc with Diddy and Rick Ross. Watch him Snap from his shower. Watch him violently rub cocoa butter all over his face. Jay Z is his manager. What does any of this mean? Who is filming when he’s getting his daily massage? LION!! They don’t want us to watch DJ Khaled, so of course, we’re going to watch DJ Khaled more.

After being booted from Gawker last summer when the site’s staff unionized, Lauderdale Lakes native Adam Weinstein packed his bags for Miami and joined Fusion as a senior editor. Whether riffing on the latest in pop culture, railing on corporate media, or ranting about sycophantic politicians, his Twitter feed is an amusing and smart take on the day’s news. Miami followers appreciate his tweets about life in South Florida where, as he once wrote, “The Fanta flows like water.” He’s a guy who has literally parked his car and stepped out of the driver’s seat for a smoke break in the middle of a standstill on the Palmetto Expressway. That’s a Florida Man worth following.

Readers’ choice: twitter.com/billycorben

In a sea of tree-climbing, swamp-diving showboat TV reporters, Tony Pipitone of WTVJ/NBC 6 stands out for his even temper and matter-of-fact delivery. Where others rely on anecdotal man-on-the-street interviews to get a sound bite, Pipitone uses cold, hard facts to show viewers exactly how they’re getting screwed. For instance, he recently analyzed data from 44,000 local trauma center admissions and found a huge disparity in the cost of treatment. Those chops undoubtedly come from Pipitone’s background as a former newspaper reporter in Baltimore, followed by 26 years as an investigative TV reporter in Orlando. Since his move to Miami in 2014, he has tackled everything from shady charter school operators to Florida’s hit-and-run epidemic. And with 12 Suncoast Emmys and six Edward R. Murrow Awards, he has the hardware to prove he’s the real deal.

It hasn’t taken long for Rudabeh Shahbazi to make her mark in Miami. In less than a year, she’s been tapped for CBS Miami’s nightly newscast, named one of the city’s eight most influential women by Ocean Drive, and helped launch the station’s weekly “Mentoring Matters” series. And not only is Shahbazi the face of the segment — she’s also a volunteer herself, working with Big Brothers Big Sisters. Shahbazi arrived in South Florida from Los Angeles last August, appearing on the morning news desk for about a month before being moved to co-anchor with Rick Folbaum the station’s weeknight newscasts at 5, 5:30, and 11. She’s serious without being stuffy and always carries herself with poise. It’s no wonder she was so quickly promoted. Here’s hoping she sticks around for a while.

Readers’ choice: Belkys Nerey

Last June, Univision anchor Jorge Ramos sent a handwritten letter to Donald Trump requesting an interview. Univision had recently dropped the Miss Universe Pageant as a response to Trump’s accusations that Mexico sent “rapists” to the United States. Not surprisingly, Trump declined Ramos’ interview request, but he also posted the letter on Instagram (which included Ramos’ personal cell phone number). A few months later, at a Dubuque, Iowa news conference, Ramos stood up to try to question Trump about his immigration policies. Trump repeatedly told Ramos to sit down, even telling him: “Go back to Univision.” The squabble made international headlines, underscoring Trump’s distasteful image among Hispanic voters and further catapulting Ramos into the spotlight, as both the nation’s most trusted Spanish-language news anchor and a pro-immigrant savior who dares to stand up to hate. In an October profile, The New Yorker dubbed Ramos “The Man Who Wouldn’t Sit Down.” Besides co-anchoring the nightly news, Ramos hosts Sunday-morning public-affairs show Al Punto, writes a syndicated column, and hosts an English-language weekly news-magazine show on Fusion. His latest book, appropriately dubbed Sin Miedo, compiles some of the interviews he’s done over the years with “rebels” such as Barack Obama and Sonia Sotomayor.

For thousands of years, South Florida was a veritable swamp, characterized by a unique breed of flora and fauna as well as a complex system of natural waterways. But in the early 1900s, developers concocted the brilliant plan to drain and pave over the swamp to carve out a massive city. Since then, South Florida has been marked by a seemingly endless barrage of environmental disasters; every business proposal seems to threaten total environmental ruin. From bleached coral and algae blooms to toxic nuclear power plant leaks, keeping up with environmental news in South Florida is a gargantuan task. Luckily, Jenny Staletovich, the Miami Herald‘s environmental reporter, is there to capture it all for us. She took over the beat in 2014 after working as a freelance reporter for eight years. From 1989 to 2000, Staletovich worked at the Palm Beach Post as a statewide general-assignment reporter. In Miami, her comprehensive, sweeping environmental coverage names the perpetrators of environmental decimation in our coastal towns, parks, and waterways. She explains the science in simple language and reminds readers of the importance of natural spaces as well as the complex relationship between humans and the environment. For her work at the Herald, she was named a “Woman Greening Journalism” last year by Audubon magazine. As South Florida continues to chart its future in the face of rising seas, Staletovich is the informed, impassioned, and steady voice the region needs to ensure the environment is not left out of the conversation.

Sports radio is a fickle business. You’re never quite sure if your favorite hosts will be on-air the same time of day next year or even next month. Sometimes change is good, though, even when it means shaking up a thing you’ve grown accustomed to. In August 2015, 560 WQAM added former Miami Dolphins linebacker Channing Crowder to its popular Hochman and Krantz show, which runs weekdays from 2 to 6 p.m. The results have been tremendous. Crowder — an instant hit with sports radio fans following his playing days — adjusted perfectly to the new surroundings. He plays brilliantly off Marc Hochman’s humor, which at times can be, um, special. The pair is salt-and-pepper perfect, with a splash of Krantz for spice. The result is an especially entertaining sports radio show recipe with something extra.

In Miami, we’re used to festivals taking up every free weekend during “season,” that perfectly crisp time of year when the rest of the nation is freezing and we’re finally hitting temperatures below 80 degrees. Though most of these festivals revolve around food or music, we get some pretty world-class art festivals too — like the indomitable Art Basel Miami Beach and Art Wynwood. Three years ago, a newcomer emerged on the scene, a festival that blends various art forms — movement, film, and visual art. Screen Dance Miami was created by Tigertail Productions, one of the city’s oldest arts institutions. Director Mary Luft sought to work with both local and international dancers exploring new ways of capturing movement on film. Screen Dance is more than just live recording — rehearsed choreography is warped onscreen using visual tricks to guide the viewer to consider dance in a different realm.

Readers’ choice: Coconut Grove Arts Festival

Though Miami is known for its bizarre style trends (namely booty shorts, neon, and face-lifts), it’s difficult to find someone very fashion-forward in town. There aren’t many here who live in the larger world of the well-dressed. Then you see Angeles Almuna, the immensely stylish blogger, photographer, and jewelry designer, and you’re like, “Holy crap, this lady can dress!” She looks like a million-and-one bucks at all times. She has shot for Glamour and Harper’s Bazaar. She makes jewelry out of blown glass, and she’s collaborated with Swarovski to create crystal works. The Chilean is not only an artist but also a former flamenco dancer. Almuna inspires you to dress better but also confounds because you know you could never look as good as she does. Recently, she was left with no hair after being treated for breast cancer, and she’s become an activist for awareness and research for a cure. She even hosted her own Stella & Dot trunk show last year to raise money for the Noreen Fraser Foundation, which fights cancer. And the craziest part? She looks lovelier than ever.

During a recent Miami Heat playoff game, the booming chants of “Let’s go Heat!” echoed down the sidewalks of Lincoln Road. No, despite ESPN’s repeated claims that the Heat plays in South Beach, the roar of the Miami crowd does not carry across the team’s true home on the mainland side of Biscayne Bay to Miami Beach like the bass notes of Ultra Music Festival. This particular Heat frenzy was pumping from an enthusiastic gathering at Finnegan’s Road. The bar on the corner of Lincoln Road and Michigan Avenue has long been a meeting place for sports fans. With 20 big-screen HD TVs, you can finagle an employee to put on the game of your choice — even if, God help you, you’re a New York Jets or Cleveland Cavaliers fan. There’s a pool table inside, but the most entertaining pastime on the premises comes from the outdoor sidewalk seating. While you’ve got your eyes on the game, your friends who don’t know Justise Winslow from the Justice League can occupy themselves with some grade-A South Beach people-watching.

Readers’ choice: Flanigan’s Seafood Bar and Grill

It took this Wynwood bar all of about five seconds to become one of the neighborhood’s most popular spots. The night of El Patio’s official grand opening, a line stretched down the block. If you were lucky enough to get inside, you instantly understood why. El Patio is exactly what you pray your backyard looks like one day. Furnished with mismatched vintage pieces of furniture and knickknacks shipped from Colombia — the homeland of co-owner Nicolas Hoyos — El Patio is a living example of why Miami’s Latin-fusion culture makes this city great. With tropical music curated by local favorite Mr. Pauer, there’s no shortage of hip-shaking going down during any given happy hour, which features some pretty insane deals, such as $4 cocktails and a bucket of four beers for only $4. We’ll give that a moment to sink in. It’s hard to think of a place more fitting to toast to the Miami sunset than El Patio. And if you make it till the night, be prepared to dance.

Readers’ choice: The Anderson

With its carnival explosion of cultures and nonstop hustle, Miami sometimes seems like the busiest place in the universe — and also a long way from America. But drive a few miles out to the burbs, and it’s a different story on both counts. Take a detour to Miami Springs, for instance. Bathed in the light of more than a dozen flat-screen TV sets, your butt comfy on the padded booths inside Tom’s NFL American Sports Bar & Grill, you’ll begin to feel like the western reaches of Miami-Dade are just about the best place to drink away an evening. For more than 25 years, this true-and-blue sports bar just steps from Miami International Airport has been serving people flying through town and locals who like a special on their prime rib and a cheap, cool one to wash it all down. Kick back and lick that wing sauce off your fingers while you suck down a Bud and watch some football, because you’re in America, dammit, the land of the free.

Readers’ choice: Finka Table & Tap

John Lermayer is one of bartending’s elite — a world-class drink slinger known the world over for his style, his concoctions, and his bon vivant lifestyle. So it was no surprise that when he (along with dream-team partners restaurateur David Martinez and Blackbird Ordinary’s Dan Binkiewicz) opened his first bar, it would offer superlative libations. What makes Sweet Liberty so good is its casual setting. Here, no hipsters look down on you because you don’t know the latest small-batch whiskey, and no brusque waitresses demand $35 for a cocktail. Instead, you get solid drinks and food with no pretenses. Of course, Lermayer and his merry band of bartenders serve some unique cocktails, such as the Beast of Bourbon — a dark, potent potable made with Jim Beam, spiced rum, coffee, and spices ($13) — and the simply named Rum Drink, with rum, lime, sugar, and Campari. But if you order a beer and a shot, you’re good too (remember the no-pretense rule). If you want to up your drink IQ, reserve a bartender’s table experience where, for a maximum of four people, you’ll sit at a special table behind the bar and be served a myriad of food and cocktails for one blissful hour. The simply decorated bar is a mix of Americana and Miami — the better to see the standout focal point, a pink neon sign urging you to “pursue happiness.” After a few cocktails at Sweet Liberty, that’s a goal easily achieved.

Readers’ choice: The Broken Shaker

When it took over the former White Room space last year, 1306 also rose from the ashes of beloved venue Grand Central. Brad Knoefler, Aramis Lorie, and Brian Basti, who were all involved with the midsize venue, opened a space that couldn’t be any more different from the club they’d closed last September. Instead of an expansive venue, 1306 is small and intimate. In fact, the bar is two venues in one. The event space is located in the outdoor area, and it’s perfect for private events or small concerts. The bar takes up the smaller indoor space, with the only indication of its existence being the illuminated neon sign reading, “Bar.” With the low lighting and background music playing softly enough that it allows people to have a conversation, 1306’s bar has become a favorite among those looking for a late-night cocktail in a not-so-chaotic setting. Given a drink menu by former Broken Shaker alum C. Virginia King, you better believe the libations are legit. Try the Daisy de Lolita ($15), with Ilegal Mezcal reposado, Yellow Chartreuse, lime, and mint. It goes down like a grownup version of a margarita.

Readers’ choice: Wood Tavern

While the northern part of the county is under an elaborate craft-cocktail spell, the southern half is perfectly content to down unfussy drinks at reasonable prices. For 16 years, Bougainvillea’s Old Florida Tavern has delivered exactly that. Built in a 1940s Florida cottage, Bougie’s has became a beloved local watering hole for the nearby University of Miami crowd, as well as the young-adult set looking for something a bit more authentic than the bar at T.G.I. Friday’s. That makes the crowd gathered here friendlier than most places in Miami. Mix that with a healthy dose of live music — reggae Thursday and local bands Friday and Saturday — and it’s the perfect bar where you can let loose without having to worry whether your scene cred will take a beating. And forget about ordering a fancy drink here. Instead, go for a Red Stripe ($4) or a well drink, and enjoy the escape. For the fairer sex, drinks are free Wednesday from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m.

Readers’ choice: Bougainvillea’s Old Florida Tavern

Your name probably isn’t Lou, but whenever you visit this beer garden, it has a way of making you feel like it belongs to you anyway. Tucked away a block off North Beach’s main strip, Lou’s Beer Garden is a cozy little enclave beloved by locals and complete with a backyard-size swimming pool. It boasts a great patio vibe and is perfect for cooling off after a day at the beach or catching up with friends in the area. You’ll get your choice of a wide selection of craft beers (many for around $10) or Lou’s special craft cocktails. Meanwhile, the kitchen kicks out refined takes on comfort foods such as thin-crust pizzas (starting at $11) and a gourmet burger for $16. If it’s a particularly nice night, you can enjoy it all while listening to the poolside palms rustling in the breeze — which can be a welcome change from the uhntz-uhntz beats and drunken tourist cackles that soundtrack many poolside hangouts to the south. You’ll be sure to feel, well, right at home.

Readers’ choice: The Anderson

A humble hostel might be the last place you’d expect to find Miami’s most inventive bar. But from the beginning, the Broken Shaker, helmed by Bar Lab’s Gabriel Orta and Elad Zvi, has defied all expectations. What started as a pop-up bar in 2012 in a quiet Indian Creek Drive hotel has become a beloved creator of incredible libations celebrated by clientele and critics alike. In fact, for two years in a row, the Broken Shaker was a semifinalist for the James Beard Award for Outstanding Bar Program. And in 2015, the Shaker was named Best American Hotel Bar at Tales of the Cocktail’s Spirited Awards. Perhaps that’s why when the Freehand hostel opened a Chicago outpost, the Broken Shaker tagged along. (A third Shaker location is planned for Los Angeles thanks to another Freehand in the works on the West Coast.) Still, it will be hard to match the idyllic Miami Beach poolside setting with mismatched patio furniture, uneven brick pavers, and twinkling lights. And, yes, the drinks, which constantly change according to the season and whatever local ingredients are fresh, make the Broken Shaker worthy of repeat visits if only to figure out what it’ll come up with next.

Readers’ choice: The Broken Shaker

When you finally find this windowless North Miami castle swollen with cheap beer and booze, Round Table Sportsbar & Lounge will make you feel like Indiana Jones unearthing the Holy Grail of dives. The exterior is gray and stately, and the roof even features a battlement detail. But once inside, you’ll feel like you’ve stepped into another time and place. And you won’t want to leave. Like every smoky watering hole, this place has games to distract you and beer that is cheaper than bottled water to keep you dehydrated. There’s the requisite pool table and a fantastic tabletop shuffleboard that will hypnotize the competitive drunks in your group. While other classic dives like Fox’s and Magnum have shuttered their doors forever, Round Table keeps Miami grounded and guzzling cheap beer like a good Southern city should.

Mac Klein is dead. But Mac’s Club Deuce will never die. The iconic 101-year-old owner of the Deuce passed away this year, but his bar — as confirmed by his wife Mary — has no plans of shutting its doors. For decades, Mac’s Club Deuce, which Klein owned and operated for 51 years, has been the place to escape the artificial glamour of South Beach. There’s no VIP section in the Deuce. Inside, everyone is equal. And even though celebrities often sat at Mac’s curved bar, they were treated no differently from the iguana-swinging cross-dressers who sat next to them. (Just to clarify: There really is a Deuce story infamous among regulars where a cross-dresser threw an iguana across the bar. The creature survived.) Every loyal patron knew Klein wouldn’t be around forever, but his passing still sent tremors through the dive-bar-loving worldwide. Thankfully, we can take comfort in knowing that his bar is here to stay, and through it, Mac will achieve the immortality he rightfully deserves.

In some other parts of Miami, Better Days might not be that big a secret. But in Brickell, surrounded by glitzy towers and sumptuous nightlife options, Better Days flies under the radar, melting inconspicuously into the bourgie 500 Brickell Building. Part thrift store and part bar, Better Days came to Miami’s financial district with the idea of giving the area a different sort of bar, a place where one could hide from the suit-and-tie finance bros who loudly shout about the stock market between sips of $30 martinis. And it has done just that. Better Days’ interior is vintage and cozy, more like the living room of a very cool grandpa than anything else. Free popcorn is offered to patrons who enjoy tasty cocktails from a seasonal menu (which run about $10, give or take a couple of bucks). And after a few drinks, you can shop at the Dead Flamingo, a thrift store that shares space with Better Days.

When Bar Lab’s Gabriel Orta and Elad Zvi announced they were taking over the old Magnum Lounge — a retro New York-style piano bar — everyone naturally assumed the old, beloved space would serve some good cocktails. After all, Orta and Zvi are the masterminds behind the Broken Shaker, the bar that single-handedly put Miami Beach’s cocktail scene on the world map. But what could the Bar Lab partners do to make a unique mark on the Anderson? Their answer was to seek inspiration from the ’80s, a time when people enjoyed libations with names like WooWoo, Sex on the Beach, and Kamikaze. In the hands of Orta and Zvi (and using fresh juices, quality spirits, and handmade bitters), these drinks have been transformed into beautiful creations, much like Molly Ringwald in a John Hughes movie. The Like a Virgin ($11) is a sophisticated take on a Cosmopolitan, the drink made famous on HBO’s Sex and the City, and the Let’s Dance ($14) flips a dirty martini on its side with a hint of truffle and caper berries. But it’s the Under Pressure ($12) that might just win your heart. Made with green-apple-infused vodka and Dolin Blanc vermouth, it’s a tart and crisp tribute to the Decade of Me with just the right touch of restraint.

The large, round lights that make up the sign for Beaker & Gray are reminiscent of an old-school Broadway theater in New York City. And the bar’s indoor aesthetics would fit nicely into Gangs of New York, the 2002 Leonardo DiCaprio movie about 1860s NYC. All in all, this Wynwood newcomer is a pleasing combination of rustic, country, and hipster. And unlike many über-trendy locales, it’s got a killer happy hour every Monday through Friday from 4 to 7 p.m., and again at 11 p.m. until 2 a.m. for late-night wanderers (except Friday). Everything is $5. You can legit order three margaritas for $15 — the price you’re used to paying for one. Or perhaps you’d prefer a Moscow mule, daiquiri, Tom Collins, or old-fashioned. Bartenders are generous with the alcohol, so there’s no watered-down happy-hour mix here. When it comes to food, don’t be afraid to order one of everything on the happy-hour menu. Devour those croquetas, ham-and-cheese sandwichitos, mofongo cake, seasoned olives, and unique chips ‘n’ dip. And because Beaker & Gray is conveniently located two blocks from the heart of Wynwood, a plethora of second stops await after you get your night started on the cheap.

Readers’ choice: Sweet Liberty Drinks & Supply Co.

Gui Jaroschy doesn’t quite fit the trendy bartender mold. Instead of wearing a beard or a finely waxed ironic mustache, Jaroschy sports more of a Brady Bunch mop top and smile. Don’t let that disarm you — the man means serious business when it comes to making a cocktail or running an entire operation. Hailing from Austin, Texas, Jaroschy began working in restaurants at the age of 18 while studying for an anthropology degree. He soon heard Miami’s siren song, and the young barkeep got behind the stick at the Delano Hotel, working his way up to director of bars. Lightning struck when he joined Bar Lab’s Gabriel Orta and Elad Zvi on a little project called the Broken Shaker. Since then, Jaroschy has amassed quite the impressive resumé — opening the Broken Shaker Chicago, working at the Anderson, and consulting on cocktail menus for Ricochet Lounge, Drunken Dragon, British Airways, and Kreepy Tiki. For all of his work, Food & Wine ranked him in “The Top 10 Best New Mixologists in 2015,” and he was named a Rising Star mixologist by Starchefs. Jaroschy has also won numerous mixology competitions, including top awards at the South Beach Wine & Food Festival while repping for the Shaker. With all of those kudos, the only problem is trying to catch up with this whirling dervish of a barman. In any given week, he can work at the Anderson, the Broken Shaker, or a guest bartending spot at any of the other bars in town. But once you do catch him, consider it a rare opportunity to have a truly great drink from a truly talented — and nice — guy.

Readers’ choice: Gui Jaroschy

You just drove 40 minutes in Miami traffic, skirting jaywalkers and Lambo maniacs, and then you had to drop way too much money on a damn parking spot. It almost takes all the excitement out of the Heat game or the big show you trekked downtown to see, right? What you need is a drink and a moment to chill to re-collect that Zen, and Pub Urbano, technically in Brickell but still on the downtown side of the river, is ready to pour you an ice-cold brew. You suck one down fast, and you’ve got time for another round, but now there’s a grumble in your belly. No worries, mate. Pub Urbano ain’t no ordinary watering hole. This place is primed to satisfy your beer-creepin’ munchies with plenty of Mexican finger-food flavor. Try a warm sandwich torta for $10 with spiced pork, breaded bistec, or huevos rojos. The tacos are delectable and range from $7 to $8 depending upon a variety of meaty or veggie fillings. There are even a few $13 pizzas, along with $8 salad options if you’re looking for something light. It’s so good you’re gonna wanna go back the next morning for breakfast. Yeah, Pub Urbano serves that too.

Readers’ choice: Batch Gastropub

“The sound of the world, right now.” Those are the words of Rhythm Foundation’s director, Laura Quinlan, to describe what the TransAtlantic Festival has been bringing to Miami for the past 14 years. From the jazzy sounds of Brazilian songstress Céu and the solid breaks of French-Chilean MC Ana Tijoux to this year’s brassy, eclectic beats of New York’s Beirut, every artist who has performed at the fest has taken the 305 on a global journey through music. “We try to get musicians with the spirit of travel and exploration,” Quinlan recently told New Times. The festival has changed throughout the years. “Our audience before this festival was older and not as reflective of our vibrant, young city. It has challenged us to find new collaborators and sounds that keep us relevant.” But Quinlan’s philosophy has remained untouched. And in this melting pot of a city, the TransAtlantic Festival does its part to keep all of our vibrant cultures in touch.

High-energy rock ‘n’ roll and tons of fun — that’s what the Magic City’s Plastic Pinks bring to the stage every time they put on a show. While these guys have the gift of turning every gig into one hell of a rager, the music is where it’s at. Having performed alongside indie icons such as Ty Segall, Thee Oh Sees, Black Lips, and other garage giants of the ilk, June Summer and his “rad city sticky pop” crew released their first full-length album, Sunnyside Rabbits, on Burger Records last year. Recorded under the direction of AJ Davila of Davila 666, the Plastic Pinks’ debut production was met with praise from critics and fans alike. But one of the highlights of the band thus far — not including its raucous III Points gigs, of course — was when the Miami boys rocked out at South by Southwest in Austin this spring. With a national music festival and a new single, “Kelly,” released on Die Slaughterhouse Records, under their belt, the Plastic Pinks are working on their second album. Although an official release date has yet to be announced, you can always catch them wreaking rock ‘n’ roll havoc any given night.

Readers’ choice: Afrobeta

Rick Moon has released two very different EPs in his career as a singer and songwriter. The first, 2012’s Tired of Sleeping, showcased his ability to write catchy, upbeat songs without selling out or succumbing to cheap tricks. With slick production and beautiful lyricism, Tired of Sleeping gave many listeners reason to believe Moon was on his way to big things. But then life got in the way. In between Tired of Sleeping and his second EP, Cottage Scenes, he became addicted to drugs. It was a bleak and terrifying chunk of his life, one that saw him wandering through the streets of Overtown, searching for his next fix. But Moon, with the help of friends and music, pulled his life together. And from the ashes of his addiction, he created Cottage Scenes, a seven-track journey through despair, hopelessness, heartache, and, finally, survival. Moon wrote Cottage Scenes as part of his recovery process. The EP’s title track, “Overtown,” was written from a rehab facility New Year’s Eve in Delray Beach. He has remained active since Cottage Scenes and is teasing a new album on his Facebook page. Wherever it falls on the spectrum between Tired of Sleeping and Cottage Scenes, we wait eagerly to hear what Moon has to say next.

Like a bright flame tree blooming in the spring, Camila Luna stands out from the crowd. With only one EP under her belt, the Spanish-language Flamboyán, Luna has already made national headlines thanks to her Latin Grammy nomination last year for Best Pop/Rock Album. Written by la cantante herself and produced by José Luis Pardo of Los Amigos Invisibles, the EP was officially released in 2014. However, it wasn’t until 2015 that Luna’s música was discovered by the industry at large. Best described as a mix of smooth, tropical vibes with a touch of reggae, Luna’s acoustic guitar and soft voice are the main instruments on the title track, “Flamboyán.” But in simplicity — the music video for her single “Flamboyán” was filmed using her iPhone in her grandmother’s backyard in Puerto Rico — is where the singer shines. Although Luna didn’t take home el premio for Best Pop/Rock Album last year, the singer isn’t slowing down — the University of Miami alumna made an appearance at this year’s Premio Juventud, recently dropped the single “Siento,” and has been performing everywhere from the 305 to Madrid. The future is looking mighty bright for this Miami girl.

Los Herederos have made it their sworn job to share Yoruba culture with the world. “My grandma always said I would inherit something,” says Philbert Armenteros, the band’s lead singer and percussionist, of his abuela, who was a noted rumba dancer and singer in Havana. “Of course, in that moment I was too small and did not understand. As I grew older, I started realizing, Wow, I have a richness, and that richness was our folklore, our essence, our roots.” Armenteros left his homeland when he was 18 but has made it his life’s work to spread the music and culture of traditional religions such as Santería and Palo Malombe through rhythm and song. “This is what we have inherited — our gift — and it’s what we need to share with the people.”

If we had a nickel for every time someone groaned that Wynwood is “over,” gentrified into oblivion, a shell of its former authentic glory days, this Best of Miami issue would be printed on gold leaf instead of paper. And, yes, Wynwood is very different from what it used to be. In the past five years, it has been stuffed full of enough selfies and corporate money to bloat the neighborhood into an almost unrecognizable cash cow. But whether you prefer the good old days of scrappy galleries or eagerly anticipate the gleaming future, you have to admit Wynwood is booming. This is largely thanks to its nightlife, which seems to grow each month. Locals remember the days when Wynwood had about two bars to choose from. Now, on each block awaits other options. Choices range from the Latin-tinged El Patio to the Wynwood hipster mainstay Wood Tavern. With Wynwood Brewing Company, J. Wakefield Brewing, and Concrete Beach Brewery, the hood is now home to three very good distributing breweries (and others are on the way). There are multiple craft cocktail bars, quality late-night eats, and innovative restaurants. And despite the neighborhood’s insane popularity, almost everything in Wynwood is still reasonably affordable. Sure, come for the murals and the selfies, but stick around once the sun goes down. It’s worth it.

When New Times interviewed Douglas Abernethy, vice president and general manager of Entercom Miami, the company behind 104.3 the Shark, he made us a promise: There would never be a single Creed or Nickelback song played on his station. That solemn pledge came last September, and we’re pleased to say we haven’t heard “With Arms Wide Open” befouling our airwaves a single time since. 104.3 the Shark came into South Florida with a laser-focused purpose — filling the alternative void in our corporate radio market. That was a large void indeed. We had classic rock, hip-hop, underground stations, hell, even a jazz night or two. But there really was nowhere to hear the early-’00s emo anthem you so desperately craved to get you through rush hour. From playing ’90s grunge and ’80s classics like Depeche Mode to the good old high-school Hot Topic angst of Panic! at the Disco and Taking Back Sunday, the Shark has exactly what you need, assuming what you need are power chords and skinny jeans.

Readers’ choice: 104.3 the Shark

For all too many national music snobs, Miami is good for only Gloria Estefan nostalgia and Ultra Music Festival electro partying. But contrary to what other major cities would have you believe, the Magic City is a petri dish teeming with radical development. We may be comparatively small in size, but we have a million sonic flavors from which to choose. Miami’s DJ DZA, famous for his handiwork on the Peach Fuzz parties, has been all over the world, and he recognizes the talent brewing in his own backyard. That’s why he gathered his audiophile friends and founded Rear View Records, a label without any regard to genre or style. The only rule to being signed: You’ve got to be good, and you’ve got to be from Miami. It’s a young label with just a few releases so far, among them the ’90s house-style banger “Get Into Something” from LTENGHT and 305 vocalist B.Wav, as well as an EP from DZA favorite dark dream band Kodiak Fur. With a tons of other products in the works for 2016 in both digital and physical releases, Rear View Records already reflects everything that’s brilliant and weird about Miami’s music scene.

Umi Selah and Aja Monet created Smoke Signals Studio with the community in mind. For them, this is not a business, but a personal mission. The two run the studio out of their own Little Haiti home. Monet is a Brooklyn-born poet of Cuban-Jamaican descent. Selah was born in Chicago and, after graduating from Florida A&M University, cofounded the Florida activist group Dream Defenders. “A smoke signal is something that someone sends up when they’re stranded, when they have lost all hope and they’re looking for somebody to take notice and rescue them,” Selah says. The concept for the studio is similar: to give a creative outlet to Miami’s disenfranchised and underserved. Back then, Selah and Monet had hoped to raise $10,000 to get things off the ground. They ended up collecting more than $15,000, and now Smoke Signals is up and running. Because they operate out of their shared home, Selah and Monet prefer to keep their address private. But it’s not difficult to get in touch with them. If you’re in need of studio space and a warm, collaborative, uplifting environment, shoot an email to smokesignalsstudio@gmail.com and get the music started.

On the eve of Easter, Miami was blessed with the most beautiful, sweaty, and queer show the city has possibly ever seen. As the clock struck midnight Saturday, calling an end to Semana Santa’s pious restraint, restorative vibes from Gooddroid, Poorgrrrl, Junglepussy, and Le1f rained down upon Bardot’s intimate dance floor. Bardot’s main stage is really just a quaint square. And as Junglepussy emerged, there was nothing blocking revelers from getting down with the 24-year-old New York-based rapper. So they did. But JP didn’t mind — this is what she loves. She wiped sweat from her face and stayed hydrated with a nearby water bottle between belting out bangers such as “Get to Steppin” and “Spicy 103 FM.” During Le1f’s set, somehow two backup dancers fit behind the rapper — who has broken boundaries as a commercially successful gay hip-hop artist. Le1f enticed the crowd, keeping the energy up at all times. By the end of his set, all boundaries between the artist and the spectators had been lost. Miami’s music freaks encircled him, feeding off one another’s energy, moshing together as one sweaty unit until, finally, he had to leave.

The last Thursday of every month, Miami’s best local jazz station, WDNA (88.9 FM), broadcasts live from Calle Ocho’s favorite lovingly restored club, Ball & Chain. It’s fitting, really, considering the venue: In its first iteration during the ’30s, ’40s, and ’50s, it hosted jazz legends such as Billie Holiday, Count Basie, and Chet Baker. Today, Ball & Chain continues the rich tradition of live jazz, bringing local and national talent to the iconic pineapple stage on the back patio of the Little Havana bar. There’s no cover charge, and no one will bat an eyelash if you get up and bust a few moves. Jazz in Miami is a rare bird, but when you’re lucky enough to see it spread its wings, there’s no better place to bear witness than Ball & Chain, with a Calle Ocho old-fashioned firmly planted in one hand.

If it’s Tuesday and you’re in Brickell, you should be at Blackbird. If it’s Tuesday and you’re in Brickell and you have two X chromosomes, you absolutely need to be at Blackbird. One of the funkiest, most authentic spots in Miami’s financial district, Blackbird is a solid choice any night of the week. But Tuesday, with free cover for everyone (yes, even the guys), the deals are too good for a woman to pass up. From 10 p.m. to 1:30 a.m., ladies drink free. Any well drink her heart desires, as well as the bar’s signature cocktail, the Blackbird, costs the very reasonable price of zero dollars. With a DJ spinning inside and fresh air available out back, Blackbird knows how to take care of the fairer sex. Drink up, ladies. Lord knows you deserve it.

Let’s face it: Wynwood’s acclaimed Art Walk ain’t for everyone. For every art fiend who feeds off the giant crowds and jam-packed galleries there’s a claustrophobe who prefers fewer selfie sticks with his modern art. There’s hope for the shy art patrons of the Magic City. It’s called Secret Garden. The semisecret monthly gathering takes place at various venues throughout Wynwood but always brings that right mix of the bizarre and the captivating for which Art Walk was once known before becoming Miami’s biggest monthly party. Admission is usually free if you RSVP early enough, but at most will cost you $10 to get in the door. The event and locale vary from month to month. Recently, Secret Garden hosted techno wizard’s Audiofly for its carnival-inspired fest, Flying Circus, where strongmen and fire-breathers mingled to thumping tracks. Other months have brought microfestival Desert Hearts. One never quite knows what to expect when walking into Secret Garden. But whatever greets you inside, it’s better than staring at some boring painting you can’t afford.

Last year, local purveyor of swinging international music Rhythm Foundation took over management of this beachside gem of an outdoor amphitheater. Since then, the North Beach Bandshell has lured a wide swath of musicians from around the globe, from the hipster-chic Brazilian Girls to the Mexican hip-hop jazz of Troker to the buzz-worthy French-Cuban sisters of Ibeyi. But the Bandshell has also made sure to color the bills with the best music the 305 has to offer. For the recent TransAtlantic Festival, the Haitian Afro-indie-rock of Kazoots and the boogie-funk of Psychic Mirrors graced the stage. Last autumn, the venue hosted the Death to the Sun Festival, where 27 local acts were given 15-minute sets to show off their stuff, as well as Mooncake Jam, where Afrobeta, Telekinetic Walrus, and Jesse Jackson jammed partiers into the night. Best of all, the space is a gem. Crowds sway under strands of lights and palm trees just a few steps from the beach. Sea breezes inspire artists and tempt audience members to wander off and listen to the roar of waves between sets. Plus, it doesn’t hurt your wallet that there’s free street parking after 6 p.m.

A couple of years ago, the Fillmore’s very existence was in doubt due to the city’s plans to overhaul the nearby Miami Beach Convention Center. Some politicians pushed for a massive new hotel to take its place. Though the venue drips with history thanks to being the home of The Jackie Gleason Show from 1964 to 1970, it wasn’t eligible for historic protection because most of the building was gutted by the time Live Nation took it over in 2007. These days, the Fillmore is safe from the wrecking ball (for now, because this is prime Miami Beach real estate after all). If the city ever thinks about touching the Fillmore, let’s hope it will remember that in this past year alone, Live Nation brought acts such as New Order, Iggy Pop, Purity Ring, My Morning Jacket, and Metric to grace its expansive stage. The venue is also one of the most ideal live music settings in the city, with superb acoustics and a great sight line, even from the seating areas near the back. And because Miami loses a music venue seemingly every year — Grand Central was the casualty in 2015 — we can’t afford to lose another.

Readers’ choice: The Fillmore Miami Beach

Big things come in small packages, and stellar performances come without a stage. Such must be the philosophy behind Bardot. For nearly seven years, this hipster hideaway has been home to some of the most intimate and memorable performances across genres and styles, from rappers like Danny Brown and Jonwayne to DJs like James Murphy and Gaslamp Killer and even electronic bands like Yelle and Holy Ghost. Named for ’60s sex kitten Brigitte Bardot, the venue features an interior decorated with trippy projections and NSFW images of girls getting down and dirty. Smoking is allowed inside, and you’ll likely breathe in a few varieties of smoke, but it all adds to the naughty nightlife atmosphere. A pool table sits in the back, a few couches for VIP tables and general lounging are scattered about, and the bookings are consistently next-level. That’s why Consequence of Sound recently named Bardot the 83rd-best music venue in the nation. Not bad for a 300-capacity hole in the wall in midtown.

Who’s the baddest dude to ever touch golden Technics? Who was so unstoppable on the ones-and-twos that the DMC World Championship had to tell him it was no longer fair that he should get to compete? Who is the DJ so brash, so bold, and so ballsy that he spits out a battle routine calling superstars out by name, turning tricks with nothing touching the record but his back? Craze isn’t just the best DJ in Miami; Craze is one of the best turntablists in the world. We’re lucky to have a living legend in our town, and he puts this city on his shoulders, constantly repping at shows and putting on talented sounds via his homegrown label Slow Roast Records. If you haven’t seen his “New Slaves Routine,” you might not be a DJ fan, and if you haven’t listened to his 2¢ mixes — his recent collaborative project with fellow fckboi killer Four Color Zack — well, you’re just kind of a whack jokester. Every time you see a Craze set, you see something that blows your mind. His style will never get old, because it’s the truth.

Readers’ choice: DJ Irie

Judging by the album sales and eye-popping crowds at Ultra every year, we live in the golden age of the DJ. But it’s also true that this is not the golden age of DJing. Every blooper with a USB port and a black jacket can book a gig at a sports bar, but the real legends — the men and women who curate an hour or more of solid tunes designed to turn heads and shake behinds — come around only once in a while. Mr. Brown is one such legend. His sets leave listeners smilingly befuddled. You won’t recognize every song, but you might hear your underrated favorite, and you’re sure to discover a handful of new number ones. Whether he’s playing funk or French electro, sexy soul or hip-hop street beats, Mr. Brown has it all, and what makes it even more fantastic is the fact that he’s playing off vinyl. He has never even touched a digital mixer, and that means all of this great music is coming from his personal collection. He’s been DJing on vinyl for 16 years, and by his own count, he has roughly 60,000 LPs in his home and more than 100,000 others he plans to sell one day when he opens his own record store. That dedication to music sharing and discovery is what the spirit of DJing is really about, and for that, Miami thanks Mr. Brown.

If there’s a Beyoncé equivalent in the indie world, it’s probably Radiohead. Like Bey, the band tends to drop albums with little to no warning, letting fans work themselves up until they’re positively foaming at the mouth. So when the band abruptly dropped its first album in five years, A Moon Shaped Pool, this past May, Miami fans went B-A-N-A-N-A-S trying to find the vinyl version. Online, they could order the double-LP directly from Radiohead’s website. But a limited-edition, opaque white vinyl version was available only at indie record stores. Luckily, Sweat Records had listeners’ backs. That’s exactly the kind of niche, vinyl-head detail that owner Lolo Reskin has brought to the Little Haiti shop since founding it in 2005. And yes — of course — she also stocked five copies of an exclusive seven-inch release for Radiohead’s first single off the album, “Burn the Witch.” (Those sold out in less than ten minutes.) The Radiohead frenzy is just the latest example of Sweat’s devotion to wax, though. The shop is packed with thousands of new and vintage records and for the past six years has played host to Sweatstock on Record Store Day, bringing in national and local bands to celebrate their favorite medium. Even if you miss out on Radiohead’s next superlimited release, Sweat has plenty more to offer, such as gently used vinyl, band merch, turntables, and even a coffee bar that can keep you fueled as you search for more records to add to your collection.

We checked famed astrologer Susan Miller’s latest horoscopes to see if the stars said Virgos would get any major accolades in the middle of June. Apparently not (though it is a great time for Virgos to sign a contract). Then again, you shouldn’t put that much stock in astrology anyway. Virgo, the one-woman project of Elizabeth Ann Clark, at times reaches beyond the stars all on her own. Armed with a wispy voice and a bevy of electronic implements, the waif-like Clark has been entrancing Miami audiences at clubs and underground parties for less than two years but has already made her mark. She’ll play for the third year in a row at the III Points Festival later this year. Miller’s horoscopes don’t mention what time of the month is best for checking out new music, so there’s no excuse not to get into Virgo as soon as possible.

In 2005, a club called Nocturnal opened in the space at 50 NE 11th St. At the time, the owners were looking to jump into the 24-hour party business that had made Space so successful a couple of doors down. Still, even after an $11 million build-out, Nocturnal never really found its footing and struggled as the king of 11th Street continued to lure patrons looking to party until sunrise. That changed in 2015 when the venue was rechristened Heart (following a brief incarnation as Koi). Instead of taking on the behemoth that is Space, Heart has positioned itself as a complement of sorts. If Saturdays belong to Space, then Fridays belong to Heart. Instead of concentrating on traditional house, Heart tends to focus on minimal, techno, or other off-kilter dance genres. Instead of competing, Heart is adding to 11th Street’s partying environs. DJs such as Miss Kittin, John Digweed, Jesse Rose, Nicole Moudaber, and others have already gotten Heart beating. Under its semitransparent tenting on the rooftop, partygoers bathe in the Saturday-morning sunrise before calling it quits. And a wide-open dance floor (a rarity these days in Miami) welcomes everyone to try out their best moves — whether it’s just bobbing your head or breaking out those truly spastic body movements.

Readers’ choice: Basement Miami

Located on the top floor of a five-story beige shopping center just off the Palmetto Expressway, Las Tabernas de Wancho is an unlikely locale to earn the title of el quinto piso mas rumbero en Miami (translation: the most lit fifth floor you’ll find in Miami). But damned if it doesn’t deserve those plaudits. The floor hosts three rooms, each with its own flavor. Cuna del Sol fits about 450 partiers and plays mostly merengue and bachata. The most recent addition is Club 5, a smaller space that brings in a younger crowd by playing hip-hop, reggaeton, and techno. But Tropical Crossover is for the true Colombianos. Decorated to resemble a pueblito, the space makes patrons feel like they’re in Antioquia. Each room features a disco ball and aguardiente bottle service. It’s the LIV of Hialeah.

Readers’ choice: Ball & Chain

Sure, Churchill’s has been the grimy beating heart of Miami rock ‘n’ roll for decades. But only a couple of years ago, the pub’s unwavering spot at the top of the scene didn’t look so secure. When news broke that the bar’s owner of more than 30 years, Dave Daniels, was looking to sell the place, Miami panicked. We’d seen this story play out way too often. A venue springs up, we grow to love it dearly, and then it’s ripped from our grasp by greedy developers who think this city needs a few more luxury condo towers. Loyal Miami punks saw a future without Churchill’s, without a dimly lit, densely packed floor of sweaty fiends thrashing to pure guitar noise. But, for once, the narrative changed. Instead of succumbing to the wrecking ball, Churchill’s has persevered and even thrived under its new ownership. The music, still going down seven days a week, is still as loud as ever. Churchill’s has mixed a regular lineup of national touring acts with plenty of slots for locals like Jacuzzi Boys while staging forever delightfully weird festivals such as International Noise Conference. Though other venues have stepped up to help fill the void, Churchill’s remains the undisputed champ of the Miami rock scene. Long live the king.

Readers’ choice: Churchill’s Pub

There’s arguably no strip club on Earth that’s been the subject of more hip-hop songs than King of Diamonds —Miami’s sprawling, 60,622-square-foot ode to excess. So rather than tell you more about KOD, we’ll let a mishmash mixtape of those lyrics tell the story: Ain’t no pimp livin’ like that 305 lifestyle/It’s LIV on Sunday, King of Diamonds Monday/I come stuntin’, 24s on my Beemer/That Bentley come from Exotic Rentals/You wanna ride with/Bouncers know us, I’m coming a hundred deep/Call up King of Diamonds and tell China it’d be worth the flight/I’ll be at my table stacking dollars to the perfect height/No more livin’ poor, smoking something like it’s legalized/All the ladies love us/They know our faces like the ones we throw/She just tryna make it so she’s right here getting naked/It’s a work something, twerk something, world/But I don’t judge her, I don’t judge her/She ain’t scared to get that money, though I could never love her/The one I love back at home got bitter, ‘cuz I ain’t come home this morning, hope she don’t torch my shit/Every time I’m in Miami, my girl fina throw a fit/But ‘fore the end of this year, I’ll do King of Diamonds three more time/Smoking on that kush all in our section with Justin Bieber and the guys.

Readers’ choice: E11even Miami

Wynwood is the new South Beach. That is to say, it’s the place cool kids want to be seen. The action is here, along with the culture and the excitement. Wynwood is the obvious location for your next celebration, art show, or public event. Whether you’re looking to book a birthday party, a wedding shower, an afterparty, a musical barbecue, a graduation celebration, or just a corporate event that doesn’t suck, Cafeina’s lush tropical backyard, fully stocked bar, and delicious dining options are exactly the right spot in the buzz-worthy neighborhood. This place is large enough for your bash, offering a 1,560-square-foot interior lounge; a 1,000-foot art gallery; and a 5,000-square-foot outdoor space. What’s most intriguing, however, is the cozy and intimate design, thanks to warm accents and plenty of flora. You can hang out in the yard and have a cookout, or you can sit by the bar and enjoy whatever local art is proudly exhibited. The space can accommodate a stage if you have some bands you want to play, or keep it casual with a DJ. The space is available Monday through Friday from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., but please allow three business days for customization if you’re booking for a large event.

When famed South Beach nightclub Mansion closed its doors last summer, many were shocked. Regardless of whether Mansion — one of the pioneers of bottle service, glammed-out performances, and South Beach swagger — was your cup of tea, everyone had to acknowledge that a Miami nightlife giant had fallen. But from its ashes rose a promising newcomer: Icon. When Miami nightlife veteran Emi Guerra spoke to New Times about Icon, he laid out big expectations. “We’ve been referring to it as the next-generation nightlife complex.” A statement like that is easy to say and difficult to deliver. But when Icon opened its doors for the first time a few weeks later, Guerra was quickly proved prophetic. Visually, Icon is unlike anything else in Miami. Designed by local firm Thirlwall Building Design, the 30,000-square-foot space is an art-deco-inspired neon playground. If the sun had sex with a purple chandelier dipped in glitter and then their offspring went on to design a nightclub with the Miami Vice logo, you’d have something similar to Icon. The club carries on Mansion’s legacy of big-name EDM and dance music while using technology to create an atmosphere that’s both nostalgic and futuristic.

Partying with the proletariat isn’t a VIP’s idea of a good time. That’s not to say they aren’t needed. After all, if a champagne sparkler lights up a room and nobody is there to Instagram it, did it really happen? That’s why any self-respecting bourgeoisie knows you need an audience to show off to. That’s where LIV’s skyboxes come in. Soaring above the central dance floor, almost high enough that the space’s lighted domed ceiling seems within reach, the skyboxes provide the ultimate in VIP partying. It’s private enough that if you want to get a little crazy without everyone witnessing the debauchery, you can do that, but it’s still open enough for your own Eva Perón “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” moment playing to the cheering crowd below. What’s the price? If you have to ask, you can’t afford it. OK, we’ll spill. According to LIV, the cost depends upon who’s DJing, whether it’s high or low season, and the day of the week, but expect anywhere from $5,000 to $20,000 plus service charges and taxes. Chump change, really.

Miami doesn’t do nightlife quite like anywhere else. It’s loud, flashy, steamy, sexy, and — thanks to a 5 a.m. last call — up all night. Yet there are still so many nights when the party can’t stop until way past sunrise. In those cases, you gotta head to NE 11th Street in the heart of downtown. The bars and clubs of that late-night district are ready and willing to rock till you drop, which might not be ever. In that case, you’ll want to head to Libertine. “Whenever” is definitely this venue’s operating plan for last call. It’s cozy inside, comfortably fitting about 200 on a busy night. The inside is ornately decorated and dim with a candle-lit vibe, which means you can feel suave ordering bottle service at a table or another hand-crafted cocktail even if the sun has risen. There’s always a bumpin’ DJ playing from the club’s swanky converted piano of a DJ booth. You might hear some indie dance, some hip-hop, or some deep house depending upon the night. You’ll have to ask the doorman if there’s a cover, but there isn’t a strict dress code, and everyone is welcome. Honestly, if you’re ready to drink, dance, and have a good time, who really cares what you look like?

Nassie Shahoulian, better known around these parts as Notorious Nastie, has been a fixture in Miami nightlife for decades. But it’s not the type of nightlife many picture when they think of the glitz and glamour of South Beach bottle service. Nastie doesn’t earn his living in the six-figure VIP sections of the 305. He’s best known for throwing parties in the dark, grimy underbelly of Miami’s nightlife, which, quite frankly, is its best side. Most recently, the heavily bearded entertainer — who’s prone to jumping onstage in only his underpants — was behind the revival of Miami’s beloved goth night, Kitchen Club, at Jada Coles and Kill Your Idol. He’s also a member of Otto Von Schirach’s Bermuda Triangle crew, a squad responsible for providing the music and vibes of Miami’s most booty-centric shindigs. Nastie also hosts events, as he recently did for Churchill’s 4/20 festival and Trick Daddy concert. And if all of that’s not enough for you, Nastie will also occasionally get onstage himself and perform some wonderfully dirty parody songs, like the Cure spin­off “Friday I’m a Goth,” or his rap with his Wu-Tang-inspired Jew Tang Clan.

Remember Nerf guns? Remember chasing your brother around the house while blasting him in the face with dart after dart until he begged your mother to intervene? Well, the Nerf gun is all grown up. And your brother is now a pool full of half-naked party people. One of the most Miami inventions to hit the market this year is the Champagne Machine Gun. Distributed by Miami’s Jeremy Touitou, a French entrepreneur who specializes in nightlife accessories, the Champagne Machine Gun is a must-have for every Miamian with $459 and dry friends. The gun is equipped to shoot only magnum-size bottles (the ones that look like missiles) and has a range of up to 23 feet. After a few shakes, the gun can shoot for 45 seconds straight, which should give you plenty of time to soak all of your friends before turning the gun on yourself to get a taste of the good life. If Dr. Dre were a scientist, he probably would’ve invented something like this.

Basside has created a Miami masterpiece. Centuries from now, when futuristic divers scour the ocean floor in hopes of understanding the fabled lost city of Miami, let’s hope they find this music video. It will tell them everything they ever needed to know about the 305. Filmed in a vintage ’80s filter, “QLCL” features Basside spending a large portion of the video parading around in thongs and pouring bottles of champagne onto the vibrating booties of random beachgoers. It’s Miami Vice meets 2 Live Crew. “Birthday sex and cheap champagne” is the refrain repeated throughout the song, and — whether in the club, in the hot tub, on the beach, or posted up against a Mercedes — Basside keeps the rich tradition of Miami bass alive with that modus operandi. This video is, in fact, the greatest two minutes and 50 seconds in Miami history. And, yes, we’re including that one time Diddy punched Drake on-camera at LIV.

“You smart. You loyal. Matter fact, you a genius.” Those words, immortalized forever in the music video for DJ Khaled’s “Hold You Down,” helped propel the former 99 Jamz DJ to far greater heights of cultural relevancy than anyone could have predicted. It’s easy to imagine that video’s director when he ordered the whole production team off the set so he could get the shot without anyone laughing. Gil Green knows how to handle Khaled and make him look his meme-worthy best. Green has been working with the affable producer since 2007’s “We Takin’ Over.” But Green’s resumé goes much deeper than working with America’s favorite cocoa butter enthusiast. He’s also the man behind many of Miami’s most iconic music clips, from Rick Ross’ “Aston Martin Music” to Ace Hood’s “Bugatti.” He’s proudest of his videos with a message, in particular Lupe Fiasco’s “Bitch Bad,” but he sure knows how to film a party scene. Just check Lil Jon’s “What You Gon Do.” Green won an MTV Award for Lil Wayne’s “Lollipop,” and he most recently killed it with the colorful, super-’80s, super-Miami images for Pitbull’s “F.U.N.,” featuring Chris Brown. You might have also seen his work at the American Airlines Arena, because he’s the official director of all of those Miami Heat intro and promo clips. It suffices to say that Green keeps this city at the heart of everything he does, and the way he makes our city shine onscreen has us all feeling like we just listened to a Khaled inspirational speech on repeat.

Karaoke is like a sex joke dropped in a stuffy business meeting — it’ll either be a raging, knee-slapping riot or a horrible, cringe-worthy embarrassment. For 12 years running, Seven Seas Bar has hosted a karaoke night that consistently hits the highs and avoids the awkward lows. Host Bernie holds the scene together three days a week, offering thousands of jams ranging from all genres and styles for silly crooners to attempt — for better or worse. The nautical-themed bar provides a laid-back atmosphere devoid of pretentiousness, a place where everyone is welcome and no judgments are cast. The drinks flow cold and crisp, ready to lower your inhibitions and loosen up those belting muscles. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, the mike is open from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m., and while Saturday is usually the busiest and Tuesday is often more of a locals affair, Bernie says every week is different. A karaoke night doesn’t thrive in Miami for 12 years without bringing something special to the table.

Readers’ choice: Ball & Chain

In Miami, one of the most important parts of your night out is usually in the hands of someone else: the DJ. Sometimes, this can be good. But sometimes, you’re forced to listen to Pitbull and the Black Eyed Peas until your ears shrivel up like raisins. This is not good. But there are still a few joints in Miami that adhere to a more democratic approach, musically speaking. We’re talking about the jukebox. Our forefathers would have been proud. It’s the most American way to compose a soundtrack, because everyone gets a say (assuming they have some extra cash — just like in the real democratic system). Any chump who can scrounge up a few quarters can subject the entire bar to any musical adventure, from Journey to Rick Ross. And few places do this better than Lost Weekend. While live music thrives next door at Kill Your Idol, Lost Weekend — a comfortable haven of flat-screen TV sets, pool tables, and foosball — offers its patrons a chance to control their own sonic fate at jukeboxes stocked with plenty of classics, ’90s rock, hip-hop, and anything else you’d want to jam to while sinking an eight ball. Other venues in South Beach need to take note. Can you imagine if LIV let its customers pick each song? If nothing else, it’d be more entertaining than watching Calvin Harris pick his nose for 45 minutes.

With seven distinct areas sprawled across two floors, Twist feels like the world’s largest gay board game. Roll the dice, and advance three spaces to the patio bar to get yourself a nice, strong vodka cran (at an affordable, for South Beach anyway, price). Roll again, get a one, and move up to the pop-diva-themed bar upstairs (you know, the one with framed pictures of Beyoncé, Britney, and Madonna). Whoops, you ran into the guy you went on a date with a few weeks ago but never texted back. You get sent back to the Latin bar downstairs. Refill on a margarita, and let the dice-roll lead you up to the main upstairs dance floor. Take your chance flirting with the guy in the gray tank top, only to get rejected and find yourself back downstairs in the gogo-boy room. Stuff a couple of dollar bills in some muscular Colombian’s tiny briefs to revive your confidence stats. Roll again, and find yourself in the front bar near the doorway. Congratulations, you’ve won! Here’s your prize. His name is Cameron. He’s dreamy and everything you’ve ever wanted, but unfortunately he’s visiting from Chicago for a medical supplier convention. Oh, well, that’s just how board games go. Even when you win, you end up rolling your dice again at next week’s game. Playing is half the fun anyway.

Readers’ choice: Twist

When you first watch John Waters’ cult classic Pink Flamingos, you’re bombarded with so much gross goodness that you’re left wondering why exactly Divine ate that dog shit but also loving him intensely for doing it. It’s easy to conclude that maybe you just had to be there in that unique time and place to really get it. But then you see the fantastically trashy Miami drag duo Juleisy y Karla in person, and you realize this is that time and that place again, the perfect moment to shock with raw humanity and wildness. You see that the beauty in the truly raunchy is again revealed and updated for a new generation. Every second Monday of the month, Juleisy, also known as Gio Profera, hosts a particularly notable gay party with cohost Pin Tits at Basement Miami at the Miami Beach Edition. Called Gio’s Total Split Show, the bash gathers the gays to vogue and party to musical acts such as Otto Von Schirach at the bowling lanes at this downstairs club. The anything-goes attitude is what makes this party and its hosts so special. And the fact that it keeps Miami Beach gay and weird amid ever-slicker commercialization warms the heart of any nostalgic old queen. But the crowd is hot, mixed, young, and old. Whatever your bag, you’re guaranteed to be delightfully horrified and refreshed by the end of a long, sweaty, colorful night.

“This is my favorite weekly gay party, and it’s not just because I’m at the door,” says Miami Beach gay-scene veteran Tommy Strangie, better known to the LGBTQ scene and its allies as the brash and ballsy drag broad Shelley Novak. Every year, she hands out Shelleys, her version of the Oscars, for outstanding gay figures, venues, parties, and pals. If anyone knows SoBe’s gay scene, it’s her. So we’ll let Novak tell you why the Lab at Score is the place to be. “I get to see all my friends and fellow drag queens,” she says. “No matter what is going on or what other party is happening, you always end up at the Lab at Score. Score the nightclub has been around forever, and this night always has a great crowd thanks to Athena Dion and a cast of hungry drag queens who will do anything for fame, a great DJ Rob Sky, hot male strippers who have not yet learned English so they only feel semi-exploited, and cheap drinks served by smoking-hot bartenders whom I refuse to let wear shirts. Basically, everyone knows everybody. It’s like a private club for the cool kids that lets in a few tourists now and then so we can bang them!” Doors open at 10 p.m. and stay open until 5 a.m. Cocktails are complimentary from 11:30 p.m. to midnight. Check the website for specials, and if you’re a Florida resident, there’s no cover.

Few things have been as enduringly cool as the game we call pool — or, if you’re fancy, billiards. How cool is pool? Pool is so cool that, if you’re really good at it, people call you a shark. And sharks are cool because they have a whole lot of teeth and are able to kill anything they want, including Samuel L. Jackson in the movie Deep Blue Sea. Pool is so cool that whenever a movie reaches a point where it needs to make its main character appear awesome, it either (1) shows that main character winning easily at a game of pool or (2) shows that main character snapping a pool cue over his or her knee and beating up an entire bar in a karate brawl. Luckily, the latter scene won’t play out at Peg’s Pocket, a beloved neighborhood joint where there are some seriously good deals for those looking to hit the felt. Monday through Friday, you can pay $8.50 for unlimited playing time from noon to 8 p.m. Or you can pay $6.50 per hour and enjoy free draft beers all day and night Tuesday and Thursday. But can you really put a price on being cool? You can’t. Unless you’re selling air conditioners.

Readers’ choice: Lost Weekend

Like a stellar musical score, architect Frank Gehry’s masterful New World Center is full of hidden strokes of genius that aren’t evident upon first glance. Sure, right off the bat you’ll notice the soaring glass atrium and the striking blank wall where hi-def projections of concerts draw huge outdoor crowds. But it takes a connoisseur’s eye to spot a more subtle touch of Gehry’s design beauty. Ascend in an elevator to the symphony’s rooftop and you’ll find jaw-dropping, 360-degree views of South Beach. Just to the east, the art deco spires of the Delano and National hotels pierce the sparkling-blue Atlantic horizon; to the west, sailboats dot Biscayne Bay with a Miami skyline backdrop. And you don’t have to stand on unfinished tar shingles while you gaze — New World Symphony’s top deck is graced with a stunning garden designed by Raymond Jungles.

Sure, there’s the thumping nightlife and gleaming beaches, but a big draw of Miami Beach will always be its history. And among celebrities who’ve made Miami Beach their playground over the past 100 years, there are few cooler than Ol’ Blue Eyes. And among Frank Sinatra’s favored beach haunts was the Fontainebleau Miami Beach. He could often be found singing at the hotel’s La Ronde nightclub or shooting films in the lobby — home to other iconic silver-screen moments such as James Bond’s Goldfinger. Fair enough, these days you can’t find eye candy on par with the leader of the Rat Pack or even ’60s-era Sean Connery, but grab a seat at the Bleau Bar — the tricked out, glowing blue hot spot in that famed lobby — and you’re still guaranteed to witness some entertaining and sexy Miami Beach gentry. Grab a stiff cocktail (because you can probably afford only one in this spot) and a seat in the open space and you’ll feel like you’ve crashed an haute-trend commercial. During the day, the pretty people arrive to sip tea, while at night they crowd in and wait for the clubs to open. Stay long enough and you may just end up spotting your very own Sultan of Swoon.

Readers’ choice:

It began, as all good things in Miami do, with a pissed-off, naked porn star jumping atop a white Porsche after a domestic spat. Law student and wannabe energy drink mogul Mario Melton couldn’t have known it, but that angry, nude model was about to tip off police to one of South Florida’s largest molly rings. Melton, the son of lobbyist and former Miami Herald reporter Eston “Dusty” Melton, had been using his family’s shipping business to help import at least 40 kilos of the synthetic drug from China. Arrested along with a dozen others, he was the only one to reject plea offers, opting to take his chances at trial. It almost worked — jurors in Melton’s first trial were deadlocked, causing a mistrial. But Melton was convicted of conspiring to import the drug at a second federal trial this past March, during which lawyers from both sides squabbled over the meaning of a crucially timed poop emoji sent to Melton from a codefendant, which prosecutors said meant the two knew the jig was up. Thought to be a flight risk, Melton will be held in custody until his May sentencing, where he faces more than ten years in federal prison.

In 2014, Daniella Levine Cava pulled off the near-impossible. Her defeat of Commissioner Lynda Bell, a Tea Party sympathizer who single-handedly tried to defeat an expansion of Miami-Dade’s Human Rights Ordinance, was just one of a handful of victories of insurgent candidates against incumbents in the past few decades. Levine Cava, the former head of social services organization Catalyst Miami, has now become a much-needed outspoken progressive on the county commission and has used her position to fight for the little people. She has battled for paid sick time, an increase in the minimum wage, and additional public transit options. She has also become the leading voice from inside the local halls of power for campaign finance reform and more transparency in local elections, an issue on which voters of all political stripes seem to agree.

Miami Beach Mayor Philip Levine seems incapable of doing anything without a certain amount of chutzpah. The man seems physically incapability of acting with meekness or modesty. Sometimes it’s hard to watch — like the time the multimillionaire mayor proudly uploaded a video of himself berating a FedEx driver for stopping in a street to deliver a package, an antic that was widely panned on social media. Other times, though, his audaciousness is exactly what the community needs. His administration pulled the long-delayed dream of Baylink, a rail system that would connect Miami Beach with the mainland, out of the graveyard of lost good ideas back into political thought and the realm of possibility. Often, it’s hard to tell what the political ramifications of Levine’s headstrong approach will be. This past March, he became the first sitting mayor of a Miami-Dade County city to visit Cuba in 57 years. Though the local political establishment of Miami was dead-set against it, Levine told the world he would welcome a Cuban embassy within his city’s limits. His approach is fascinating to watch and has led him to be prominently featured in a number of national articles about the effects of climate change in Miami Beach. Vanity Fair even dubbed him “Bloomberg South.” It’s widely rumored that the former media magnate has his eye on running for governor of Florida in 2018, so it’s not as if he minds the positive press. Levine’s chutzpah can absolutely be an admirable advantage, though it’s fair for voters to ask who is the ultimate benefactor, the City of Miami Beach or Levine himself?

Give developer Sandor Scher this: He had a bold vision, and he put his money behind it. Unfortunately for Scher, that epic dream — to knock down a block of historic North Beach hotels to build a 22-story luxury condo and hotel — was not shared by the voters who had to approve it. By the time the dust cleared on the November ballot, Scher and his allies had blown more than $700,000 trying to persuade voters to let him demolish buildings along Ocean Terrace to erect a 250-foot tower as a start; Mayor Philip Levine had thrown his full support behind the plan; and Scher had invested $70 million in all the properties he hoped to renovate. But as returns rolled in, it became blindingly obvious that voters had enough of runaway development on the Beach. They had specifically passed height restrictions to prevent outsize project’s like Scher’s. By the end of the day, Scher, Levine, and the project’s other backers had lost big at the polls, 55 to 45. That’s one expensive misreading of the public’s mood.

As the seas inexorably rise and greenhouse gases cook our atmosphere like a microwave left on high, there’s never been a more important time to protect and restore South Florida’s natural environment. The region is at a crossroads: Either we get swallowed whole by the tides, or we take bold steps to make our shorelines healthier and more resilient. Yet many Miami lawmakers either live in denial (ahem, Marco Rubio) or consider any natural green space an invitation for a new condo tower. Enter Blanca Mesa, a Cuban-American writer, federally licensed health insurance navigator, and former realtor associate, who now doubles as one of Miami-Dade’s loudest advocates for the wilderness. Mesa grew up enjoying a Miami where parks were actual parks, not concert venues or shopping centers. Over time, she watched those spaces deteriorate as lawmakers succumbed to the lure of urban high-rises and sprawl. In 2010, while the Virginia Key master plan was being developed, the former Miami Herald reporter decided the stakes were too high. She launched the popular blog View from Virginia Key to inform the public about the history and environmental significance of the area, as well as to encourage public participation in plans for the future. Most recently, Mesa, who works during the day at the Epilepsy Foundation of Florida, fought to protect the public and natural resources in the face of the Miami Boat Show’s relocation to Virginia Key. She plans to continue to encourage people to “speak up and show up,” as well as push for the highest protections for the natural areas of South Florida. With Mesa at the helm, Miami could become an example for the world of climate resilience and innovation. Will lawmakers listen?

Sometimes Miami-Dade County needs a reality check. Learn to budget your money wisely — you can’t put everything on credit and expect it to work out in the end. The county learned this painful lesson when the under-construction Patricia and Phillip Frost Museum of Science, like an entitled trust-fund kid living in New York, announced it had run out of cash. The museum ran back to the county saying it couldn’t afford the monthly $5 million payment to the construction firm. Commissioner Xavier Suarez called it “a comedy of errors,” but it was hard to find the humor. Perhaps that’s why the museum’s namesakes, philanthropists Patricia and Phillip Frost, swooped in to help finish the project. It wasn’t the first headline-grabbing act of charity courtesy of this power couple, whose fortune comes from a pharmaceutical empire. The Frosts have given $33 million to the University of Miami’s music school and funded scholarships at Oxford. But this may have been their most resounding move. In exchange for their project-saving cash, they canned nearly the entire board of directors. Then they insisted the bailout would be only a bridge loan until county bureaucracy could free up the funds. The county finally approved the $49 million bailout in April, though that money comes from cash that was supposed to help the museum operate once it’s open. Let’s hope the Frosts are willing to lay down the law to push the city’s other elite to help if funding goes sour again.

Congratulations, spring breakers. This is the year you may have finally broken Ocean Drive. Critics like Sherbrooke Hotel owner Mitch Novick have been banging a drum for years, claiming the iconic beachfront stretch has been sullied by rip-off tourist-trap restaurants and rowdy booze slingers. Over the past year, though, the complaints have reached a fever pitch as embarrassing incidents — including a mentally ill, nude woman smearing herself with ketchup as drunk men filmed her, and countless drunken brawls caught on camera — forced the Miami Beach City Commission to form a task force and limit late-night alcohol sales. Then came spring break, when crowds got so crazy that police had to evacuate the street and a man was murdered amid the revelry. Few have been so blunt about the situation as Novick, but his to-the-point quote hit home for many critics.

Here’s how Miami International Film Festival director Jaie Laplante described the most recent iteration: “This year’s lineup is like a prism that invites Miami to see the world with an illumination that only the cinema and the artists that create the work can provide.” You can say that again. From four locally directed gems (about everything from strippers to skunk apes) to the 40 other nations represented among the 129 films, the festival shone a blindingly bright spotlight on South Florida. And unlike many festivals, MIFF offers a chance for nearly every part of Dade to take part, with showings from downtown’s Olympia Theater and Miami Dade College’s Tower Theater to Miami Beach Cinematheque and Regal Cinemas on Lincoln Road, O Cinema’s North Beach location, Coral Gables Art Cinema, and Cinépolis in Coconut Grove. In its 32 years, the festival has evolved into one of the city’s most scintillating events. So mark your calendar now. The 2017 version has been scheduled for March 3 through 12.

Public relations may have a well-earned reputation as a dark art, but that doesn’t mean its true masters are all Team Slytherin. Take JennyLee Molina, who has worked in the industry for nearly two decades and understands the media world from all angles. She’s a true pro — never pitching more than one story at a time to an editor (bless her soul) and customizing messages to show she was paying attention that one time you ran into her at an event. And outside of her day job, Molina is all about Miami and giving back. She started the 305 Cafecito movement to celebrate Miami’s most iconic caffeinated beverage, and now every year on March 5 at Ball & Chain in Little Havana, it’s a cafecito party for the whole neighborhood. Most recently, she helped spearhead a cultural rejuvenation in Hialeah’s new Leah Arts District.

Don’t panic. It happens to everyone the first time they lay eyes on Jencarlos Canela: You forget who you are, where you are, and what in God’s name you were doing. He’s simply so handsome that your brain screeches to a halt in response. But once those synapses start firing again, you’ll realize this Cuban-American heartthrob has legit talent to go with those looks. Canela began his career in showbiz in the Telemundo novela Pecados Ajenos and later recorded three full-length studio albums — Búscame (2009), Un Nuevo Día (2011), and Jen (2014). His ascent to true stardom began by landing a role as the leading love interest in Eva Longoria’s NBC series Telenovela in late 2015. The sitcom follows a group of telenovela actors as they navigate their lives on- and offscreen and is set in Miami (though it’s not filmed locally). As the Miami-born singer continues to move from Spanish-language entertainment into the mainstream, Canela has demonstrated his vocals and acting chops on Fox’s The Passion, a live-action musical telling the story of the Passion of the Christ that aired on Palm Sunday this year. His sea-green eyes are so dreamy you’ll want to cover your bedroom walls with his posters and pretend you’re a preteen again.

From Aimee Carrero’s star turn as Disney’s first Latina princess to Chrissie Fit’s crooning in Pitch Perfect, Miami actors have been dominating Hollywood by breaking stereotypes. Suki Lopez has now shot to the forefront of that noble trend. The newest season of the age-old classic Sesame Street has cast Lopez as “Nina la Latina.” The actress is not afraid to let her Miami-ness come out when playing the character. She describes Nina as a “total millennial” who works tons of jobs on Sesame Street to pay her way through college. Just like Lopez, Nina is bilingual, Cuban-American, and proud of her heritage. Before landing her wholesome new gig, Lopez performed aboard Disney Cruise Line ships and played the role of Consuela in the national tour of West Side Story in 2013. She graduated college from New World School of the Arts in Miami. Although her roots will always be in the Magic City, Lopez currently splits her time between Los Angeles and New York City. But it’s her hometown character who will shine through with Big Bird and Elmo on TV.

For a while, it seemed the former Florida House speaker and U.S. senator would become president. All you had to do was look at that handsome face and hear that clever talk, and you knew where the West Miami native would be January 20, 2017. But then Marco Rubio stooped to playing Donald Trump’s game, insulting, sliming, and giggling about the business magnate’s “tiny, tiny hands.” Next came various stories about his less-than-savory connections back in his hometown. Oh, and his sketchy personal finances were laid bare in the national press. One headline, though, from Slate, said it all about why GOP voters ultimately rejected the guy who was supposed to be the first Tea Party-approved president: “Former Florida Allies Assert on the Record That Rubio Is a Lazy, Devious Little Twerp.” Just so it’s clear: Miami New Times still loves you, Marquito!

We all have our bad nights and unflattering moments. But most of us don’t end up having to apologize for them in an interview with George Stephanopoulos on Good Morning America. Yet that’s exactly what happened to Anjali Ramkissoon, a fourth-year neurology resident at Jackson Health System. After a night out in Brickell, during which, she later explained to Stephanopoulos, she broke up with her boyfriend, the petite, young doctor tried to steal someone else’s Uber ride. Then she berated the driver and jumped into his car. As bystanders filmed, she scattered the contents of the car onto the street. “You don’t know who the fuck you’re messing with right now,” she said at one point. However, when a video of the incident was uploaded to YouTube, a horde of internet trolls made it their business to figure out exactly who the fuck she was. Even though once the video stopped rolling, Ramkissoon made amends with the driver and paid him for the damage, the internet did what it seems so intent on doing nowadays: the complete humiliation and obliteration of anyone who dares raise its ire. At least Ramkissoon’s national mea culpa on GMA featured all the class she seemed to lack in that now-infamous viral moment, which eventually cost the physician her job at Jackson.

A warm shavasana settles your inner worries as your nose fills with the scent of the lavender oil dotted on your forehead by a fit yogi. As a light, attractive sweat glistens on your forehead, you tune that messy brain into the universe’s alpha waves right alongside the beta waves of Biscayne Bay. This is all thanks to the elastic gurus of Prana Yoga, who not only get you to a higher level of consciousness at the Coral Gables studio, but also bring their gifts on the road one Sunday each month to an equally spiritual location, Vizcaya Museum & Gardens. In the shadow of this early-20th-century faux-Mediterranean villa, you can fortify your gray matter and watch healthy bodies all around you bending and folding and downward-facing-dogging into the grass. More important, the ladies at Prana’s Vizcaya class know that body and mind are inextricably linked. Taking care of one nourishes the other — which is so hot. And each class is held at a different spot onsite so you can introduce yourself to toned babes in plenty of different, and hopefully all flattering, lighting. Classes cost only $16.82, so you’ll have plenty of cash left for a post-yoga cool-down drink somewhere — and maybe take the first step toward relationship enlightenment.

There are perfectly fine reasons to pursue that guy you ran into who was totally hammered at 3 a.m. on a Tuesday — but don’t kid yourself that there’s anything intellectual about that attraction. You can’t reliably expect to find your future date to next year’s O, Miami poetry fest stumbling around drunk at a happy hour either. So if you want a man with good taste, even better timing, and a big brain, check out Pérez Art Museum’s monthly shindig Third Thursday, which is free with a museum admission. It doesn’t start too early and doesn’t stay open too late. It’s there, on romantic Biscayne Bay, where dolphins play at the foot of the museum’s grand outdoor staircase, where you will gaze into the eyes of your new smarty-pants beau, still sober enough to remember your name but one drink away from going in for the kill. How do you know he’s probably not a total drag on society? He has come to PAMM either to enjoy the modern art on display or to groove to the live music and DJs presented by Poplife, Miami’s enduring party-throwing tastemaker. There are drinks and music, but in this case, you’ll be straining your voice to talk to a guy who’s actually worth your time.

A good first date is casual but personable. You want to get to know the person better, but sitting across from each other in a thunderously loud restaurant or a too-intimate romantic spot can be boring or anxiety-ridden. Going to the movies is just bad form, and Netflix and chilling is not a date at all. Hitting the bars is a good social lubricant but also offers the danger of getting too messy. What if there were a place that was a bar, a restaurant, a garden, a dance floor, and a cool event space rolled into one? Wouldn’t that be, like, the best place to take an adorable stranger? Good thing Miami has the Wynwood Yard, the latest outdoor, communal dining and entertainment hub that feels more like a small public oasis than an overly commercial plaza. You and your hopeful cuddle-partner-to-be can order from one of the Yard’s gourmet food trucks and wash the bites down with some of the pop-up bar’s local brews. You can walk the produce garden and enjoy some of the locally grown fare or take a cooking class and elevate your veggie game. Most nights offer an enjoyable event, whether it be performances from local bands or DJs ranging from reggae to dance and rock. There are yoga classes, pet powwows, and a healthy rotation of nutritional and spiritual wellness courses too. There’s always something to do, it’s free to walk in, and it’s something different. Even if your date is lame, the evening will never be.