Arts & Entertainment

Alexis Sosa-Toro has been loudly making a name for herself with regular stints at Floyd and Club Space. Performing under the moniker Sister System, she incorporates techno, electro, and ambient elements with a nod to ’90s rave music. If you’re expecting to hear your favorite EDM hits, Sosa-Toro may not be for you. But if you’re looking to get lost during a set that takes you for a ride with nuanced textures and masterful mixing, Sister System will deliver. In addition to DJ’ing, Sosa-Toro serves as Club Space’s artist liaison and as manager of Danny Daze’s imprint Omnidisc. She’s recently opened for acts like i_O, Anthony Parasole, and Autarkic, making her one of the best reasons to get to the club early.

Miami is most definitely not Nashville. Country music isn’t exactly well-received around these parts. Even the big acts — think of your Lady A’s and Jason Aldeans — don’t perform south of the Broward-Dade line. It’s as if nobody bothered telling Pennsylvania native Nick County any of that. County has been championing the sound (and fellow local folk and Americana acts) ever since he moved here ten years ago. This year saw the singer-songwriter release his third album, A Colorful Corner of Northeastern Pennsylvania, an ode to his home state. The album took shape after County invited a few local musicians to his hometown to record, funding the effort with his online poker winnings. The deeply personal album covers topics like loss and forgiveness with pop, indie, and folk touches anchored to a decidedly alt-country foundation.

Founded on the outskirts of the Everglades back in 2016, over the past twelve months Folktale San Pedro have put out a catalog to prove they were more than an urban legend. Pre-COVID, they rocked 100-plus shows a year up and down South Florida, but one always had to wonder if what one was seeing was actually happening. Members of the art-rock quartet covered their faces with latex alligator masks and never released any recorded music as evidence that what you heard the night before truly existed. They’ve now remedied that, revealing their faces to the world and releasing two synth-rock EPs, 2020’s Four Short Expressions to Make a Good Impression and 2021’s Pseudolife. The chorus of their latest single, “Face Again” — “You know I’d love to see your face again” — hints they have no interest in retreating back into anonymity.

Crank Hallucination Sister, the new EP from Phaxas, and you’ll find yourself nostalgic for the days when it was safe to dance the night away in a crowded roomful of sweaty strangers. At the same time, you’ll find yourself curing said nostalgia by dancing right where you stand. Influenced by intelligent dance music from the likes of Squarepusher and Aphex Twin, the Miami-born and -based Phaxas aimed to create a quartet of songs that would bang when she played them live or when someone clicked play on the streaming service of their choice. And on rave-happy tracks like “If You’re Nasty” and “We Are Pure Ecstasy,” that mission was accomplished.

For the past six years, singer-songwriter Dyna Edyne has endeared herself to fans with forward-sounding R&B tracks. “I try to create what uniquely comes from my palette,” she tells New Times, attempting to explaining the popular appeal of songs like “Talk to Me Nicely” and “Lilly Frilly.” The videos that accompany those tracks bring out another level of her artistry. “Working with the resources I have in South Florida and the creatives down here has brought those ideas to life and allowed the song to shine through the visuals,” she says. “It lets more emotions flow to the audience. The beauty of being in South Florida is staying touch with my culture, which is Haiti, and the creativity from the Caribbean diaspora here. I’m grounded in where I come from as well as in the music and art I represent.” Fans can expect an EP and single from her soon.

This may be the last year Miami can claim 305-born, Los Angeles-based duo Magdalena Bay as its own. Mica Tenenbaum and Matthew Lewin met in 2011 at Live! Modern School of Music, an after-school program in North Miami they attended as teenagers. Fast-forward to 2016, and the pair came together to indulge in their pop fantasies as Magdalena Bay and released a Miami-filmed video for their cover of Tears of Fears’ “Head Over Heels.” But it was in 2020 that the duo really started to turn heads, with sites like Gorilla vs. Bear and Pitchfork finally taking notice. They also learned to master TikTok, where their short clips have garnered over 1.5 million likes. Magdalena Bay’s debut album, Mercurial World, will drop on October 8, so be on the lookout.

It almost seems like Mariah Angeliq was destined to become a singer. Her mother, an obsessive Mariah Carey fan, named her after the icon. The Miami native signed to Universal Music Latino in 2018, and her star has been rising ever since. It would be easy to classify Angeliq as another urbano act, but in addition to reggaeton and Latin trap, she incorporates elements of R&B and pop. Last year saw the release of her debut EP, Normal, with cuts like “Perreito” and “Taxi.” She was nominated for a Premios Lo Nuestro for “Female Breakthrough Artist” and a Premios Juventud for “The New Generation Female” in 2020 and “Youth Artist Female” and “Girl Power” in 2021. And in June, she dropped her single “Bobo” with Bad Gyal and Maria Becerra, a Spanish translation of TLC’s “No Scrubs.”

Miami’s Urban Latin market evolves every time a revolutionary artist enters the spectrum. In 2021, Miami’s own IAmChino is doing everything in his power to bend Latin music to fit his extraordinary vision. The Cuban musician, who got his start as Pitbull’s DJ, has always been in tune with a wide variety of genres, from hip-hop to reggaeton to EDM and more. In recent years, though, Chino has channeled his Grammy Award-winning touch into his own hit records, igniting radio airwaves across South Florida. Last year he served up singles like “Llamame” and “Miami Party” featuring Fat Nick. This year, he has kicked it up a notch, making waves with with “Ten Cuidado” (featuring El Alfa and Omar Courtz), as well as “Give It to Me” (with Yomil y El Dany, Pitbull, and La Perversa). He even collaborated with the legendary Elvis Crespo and EDM artist Derreo for a rare Latin-inspired dance track. The title of his latest single best describes how he’s been doing lately: “Tamo Winning.”

Since Rachel Angel returned to her hometown last year after a sojourn in Brooklyn and a tour of the U.S. and U.K., the alt-country songwriter has released an EP and played shows around town. Now she’s hitting the road again. “I just got back from recording a nine-track album at Miner Street Recordings,” she tells New Times. With support of fellow Miami musician Rick Moon, the album was recorded at the well-known Philadelphia recording studio, which has hosted the likes of Kurt Vile, Sufjan Stevens, Sharon Van Etten, the War on Drugs, and more. Release details are still being firmed up for Angel’s first full-length album, but she’s already off to New York and thence to Valencia, Spain (to explore higher education, she explains). Her roots, though, remain in Miami.

The reopening of dance clubs late last year put into perspective how these venues are more than just places for hedonistic pursuits. They’re also places where people come together in a euphoric atmosphere of disco lights and thumping bass. Treehouse reopened last October and quickly recalibrated itself to accommodate the realities of the pandemic. What didn’t change? It continued to book some of the best DJs around. Since then, Roger Sanchez, Paul Oakenfold, Aly & Fila, and Markus Schulz have all spun at the Miami Beach spot. And when travel restrictions finally ease up, expect more of the best house, techno, trance, and dubstep producers to look to be invited.

Plumes of fine cigar smoke hang in the air. A pair of pudgy dudes dressed in guayaberas and khaki shorts puff on premium stogies. Near the entrance of Guantanamera Cigars, a raven-haired woman in a sequin one-piece bathing suit and a Carnival headdress sashays inside, where a crowd packs the small dance floor. Afro 23 is banging out a set that blends salsa and pop beats as revelers knock back mojitos or shots of Cuban rum. Located in the heart of Little Havana, Guantanamera is an intimate live music venue reminiscent of a pre-Castro Havana watering hole. The lineup changes throughout the weekend, with a rotation of unheralded salsa, merengue and reggaeton artists from the Caribbean who play for the sheer excitement of performing for a live audience. Guantanamera opens its doors every day at 10:30 a.m. Closing time is at 9 p.m. Monday through Wednesday, midnight on Thursday and Sunday, and 3 a.m. Friday and Saturday.

The great minds behind Club Space and Bar Lab have created a new, outdoor venue where music lovers can congregate. Since it opened early this year, the Little Haiti venue has attracted an eclectic audience who come for a multitude of activities, from parties to yoga. With a variety of food and drink to choose from and plenty of places to sit and relax, patrons can have a chill time (as long as it doesn’t pour down rain). Space Park Miami was the setting for the III Joints event in April and has hosted numerous local artists Rick Moon, Jaialai, and Donzii (to name a few), as well as a wide range of out-of-towners including Omar Apollo, who will perform at the venue on September 18. If you haven’t yet checked out a performance at Space Park, consider yourself exhorted.

Despite its prosaic-sounding name, the North Beach Bandshell, designed and built by Norman Giller and Associates, is one of Miami Beach’s most recognizable architectural landmarks. It’s served as a cultural nucleus since its construction in 1961. In its early days, the bandshell hosted weekly dances, and was once the backdrop for a special winter edition of The Mike Douglas Show. In 2015, the Rhythm Foundation was given the keys to the storied venue, and its mission to grow the bandshell’s legacy as a music and community hub took off. In recent years, the venue has played host to acts from around the world, attracting to Miami some of the global diversity it tends to lack owing to its geography, and staging shows by national treasures like Robert Glasper and Big Freedia — always with an eye toward uplifting local talent as well. In the wake of this year’s Surfside disaster, management didn’t skip a beat, announcing it would pause programming to serve as a relief center for emergency services — proving once again the bandshell’s special place at the heart of the community.

Expect to see damn near anything and anyone at Gramps. The kitschy Wynwood dive bar offers a cornucopia of live entertainment, from local DJs to traveling bands to some of Miami’s most beloved queer events (like the drag show Double Stubble). Mirroring the arts district in which it resides, Gramps’ outdoor seating boasts walls and walls of murals in a rainbow of colors with dizzying designs. So if you’re just looking to hang back, drink some craft beers or cocktails and eat some pizza (yes, they have pizza) while taking in the sights, there’s a space for you. Gramps is open every day except Wednesday; hours are noon to around midnight (noon to 3 a.m. Friday and Saturday).

After an entire year without music festivals, the Bayfront Jazz Festival was an oasis in the desert for those who live and breathe the live music experience. The inaugural edition, held April 30 and May 1, was the first music festival with more than 1,000 people in attendance since the pandemic started. Those who attended were treated to quite a show. From performances by neo-soul vibraphone legend Roy Ayers and jazz singer Dee Dee Bridgestone to the heart-nourishing piano stylings of Cuban master Chucho Valdés, the Bayfront Jazz Festival reminded us of what our music-loving souls have been missing. Here’s hoping it was a taste of things to come; the festival organizers at Melrose Media promise a 2022 encore.

You might think there weren’t so many festivals to choose from this past year. And you’d be sort of right. But when it comes down to it, which did it best? The festival that went virtual? The festival that required proof of vaccination/negative COVID-19 tests and certifiedCOVID-19 detection dogs?Or the one that was a free-for-all super-spreader? We prefer the middle option. In fact, we love howSouth Beach Wine & Food Festival (SOBEWFF)founder and directorLee Brian Schrager and his team running the 20th-anniversary edition of it didn’t back down from the challenges. Instead, they embraced them, and in doing so, incorporated more than 300 chefs, mixologists, winemakers, spirits producers, artisans, and lifestyle personalities than ever before — many of them from the Miami area or nearby. As a result, SOBEWFF continued to benefitstudents of Florida International University’s Chaplin School of Hospitality & Tourism Management, as well as raise necessary and meaningful funds for thefestival’s COVID relief fund through lead-up and year-round events that directly help the restaurant community and its workers.

During Miami Art Week, Design Miami has always been somewhat of an outlier among the fairs that pop up. While every other fair focuses on, well, art — paintings, sculpture, photography, installations, etc. — Design Miami makes a case for furniture. Except, the kind of furniture at the fair isn’t the kind you find at Rooms to Go or Ikea. They are objets d’art — quite literally, art objects. Last year, Design Miami took the limitations posed by the pandemic as an opportunity to recenter itself. Art Week and its associated fairs have become something of a bloated affair, but in taking over the Moore Building, Design Miami went back to basics in highlighting the best in contemporary furniture and design. Here’s hoping that when it returns in December, it retains some of that attitude.

Many Miamians will remember feeling rage following the 2013 tragedy of artist Israel “Reefa” Hernandez, an 18-year-old Colombian immigrant who was tasered to death by a Miami Beach police officer who caught the artist spray-painting a shuttered McDonald’s. Reefa tells the heartbreaking real-life story of the young artist’s life in Miami, his time with friends and family, and his art aspirations, all leading up to the death that sprouted protests and rage from the community devastated by another instance of police brutality. Sticking to the story’s roots, the film was shot in locations throughout Miami, including Buena Vista, Key Biscayne, Wynwood, and Miami Beach. After some pandemic-induced delays, Jessica Kavana Dornbusch’s film premiered early this year at the Miami Film Festival.

For the past several years, Bianca Brewton has infused some of the most iconic pop cultural moments with her fiery moves. And if you’re unfamiliar with her work, allow us to school you. She’s the girl who soloed during Beyoncé’s 2018 Coachella opener clad in a one-legged, tiger-striped bodysuit. She’s danced beside artists both new and legendary, including Missy Elliott, Shakira, Normani, Cardi B, Janet Jackson, Miley Cyrus. And most recently, she was that girl who twerked away the satirical misogyny while wearing a risqué police uniform in Megan thee Stallion’s “Thot Shit” video. And it’s not just a music video thing. She was featured on HBO’s Lovecraft Country as “Bopsy,” a ghoulish caricature whose deformed and haunting movement exaggerated the racist depictions of black children. Even as Brewton makes a name for herself in hip-hop and film, she never strays too far from home. She wrote a book called The Walking Miracle to inspire young performers. During the Covid lockdown last year, she started the fitness dance class Let’s Ride 305, where she teaches Miami dance moves and choreography to dancers all over the world. Whether her talent takes her to LA, NY or anywhere else in the world, we can count on Bianca to continue embodying the city’s unique dance culture.

Since its formation in 2019, Public Works Records has worked to assemble a catalog that prizes quality over quantity. Now the quantity is slowly coming, too: seven releases to date, and more promised by year’s end. Label bosses Nick County, Oly, and Julian Martin staked out a niche focusing on singer-songwriters who don’t fit the stereotype of the Miami sound. They’ve been able to create their own mini-scene in which labelmate artists perform on each other’s songs and support each other at live shows. From the psych-rock of Rick Moon to Rachel Angel’s alt-country liltings to Juan Ledesma’s bedroom pop, they demonstrate that Miami’s indie-music soul is alive and well.

Psychic Mirrors don’t drop albums, they drop cinematic, musical bombshells that leave fans spluttering with questions and observations like, “How did you pull this off?” and “Please don’t leave us alone for another six years!” and “My nose is bleeding. I think my brain is melting.” Formed in 2010, the six-piece funk, boogie, and soft-rock band, led by Mickey De Grand IV and featuring Myra Stone, Al Battle, Alex Nuñez, Antoine Rocky-Horror, and Oscar Guardado, debuted its enigmatic stylings with Nature of Evil, a fully conceptualized and executed soundtrack to a thriller penned by the band and filmed by director and cinematographer Mike Ruiz. The release cemented them as Miami legends. Six years on, Psychic Mirrors outdid themselves with their sophomore effort, Ophilia, a mind-blowing, 19-track, 81-minute cacophony of flawless funk odes that conjure an exciting, imaginary version of Miami while also reminiscing about its heyday. Yet again, the album acts as a soundtrack, this time to a romance drama following a washed-up Hollywood composer who gets a second chance at stardom when he’s employed at a sinking television network, directed by Mike Ruiz and Mickey De Grand IV. It’s a feat of creativity that comes around once in a blue moon, a true gem.

Riding full-speed toward the stage in golf carts at the Okeechobee Music Festival in March of 2020, Jaialai, members of psychedelic rock band Jaialai — Jose “Jovi” Adames, Richard Boullon, Mario Lemus, and Oscar Sardiñas — appeared to be on the cusp of something special. The band, which had been splitting time between studio sessions and relentless gigs across Miami, had gained the kind of momentum that had local music fans giddy with excitement for what was to come. Then COVID descended, threatening to kill the forward momentum. But with the same good-vibes-only attitude and creative tenacity that made them a beloved fixture on the local indie scene, the outfit chugged on from lockdown, first delivering the hypnotic, laid-back summer dream that is the EP Culebra, then following that up — and blowing everyone away — with As Sweet as I Was, a five-track EP laid down at the Bull Recording Studios that perfectly captures the band’s melodic essence. Summer saw Jaialai returning to the Arsht Center and Space Park, not to mention a date at III Points in October. Anyone else getting that giddy feeling again?

Hailing from Lauderhill’s Shallow Side neighborhood, FCG Heem has carved out a lane for himself among South Florida’s rising stars. Raised by Jamaican parents, he grew up absorbing his father’s collection of reggae music along with the diverse influences from his city. He began rapping at age 11 but didn’t take his music seriously until three years ago, after the birth of his son. Since then, he’s garnered attention for his tracks, which are equal parts raw and melodic. His most recent album, Neighborhood Poetry, gives listeners a candid peek into his trauma and struggles. “I pretty much rap about everything I’ve seen or gone through,” he tells New Times. Regardless of his budding fame, FCG Heem remains driven by the impact he has on his community and his family. “I’m really like the first one from my hood, so that’s major to me, and I know they’re proud of me,” he says. “Where I’m from, people don’t really make it. I’m happy I’m letting them see it’s possible. I got the whole city on my back.”

Over the past few years, Seafoam Walls — guitarist, lead vocalist, and songwriter Jayan Bertrand, bassist Josh Ewers, electronic drummer Josue Vargas, and guitarist Dion Kerr — have forged a sound they accurately describe as “Caribbean Jazzgaze.” But while they built a strong local following, their quirky amalgamation of nuanced jazz, shoegaze, rock, hip-hop, and Afro-Caribbean rhythms never caught the ears of a major label. Then last year, Bertrand took his earnings from the last show the band was able to wedge in before the pandemic set in and turned it into a laptop and an interface. Sending tracks back and forth to one another, the band members stayed inspired. Following a secret all-ages matinee on a bill with Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore at the Center for Subtropical Affairs, Moore signed the band — their debut album, XVI, is slated for release via his Daydream Library Series by the end of the year.

More than just a newspaper, the Miami Herald is an institution that serves an important civic role, and its reporters excel at keeping the community informed in times of crisis. In her relatively short tenure as a Herald breaking news reporter, Marchante rose to the top during the pandemic as a journalist who stayed abreast of the latest COVID-19 news and updated Miamians minute-to-minute with the information they need to know. Vaccination-site locations, local mask regulations, resources for aid in evictions cases — her reporting has served as a vehicle of public service and clarity in a time of confusion and anxiety. The Herald‘s Curious305 initiative, which Marchante dedicatedly handles, is a clever way for curious Miami residents to have their burning and sometimes silly questions answered. Be it a safety concern like, “When will my kid be able to get a vaccine?” to the more trivial, “Why is Miami known as the 305?” no question is too big or too small to be answered, and Marchante’s love for the community shines through in her responses, as it does in all her reporting.

Few outside South Florida fully understand how cataclysmic Miami weather can be. The storm surges, the fry-an-egg-on-your-head-level heat, the climbing sea levels —these phenomena attract meteorologists from across the country. But as a Miami native, Lissette Gonzalez has a more intimate connection with the region. Gonzalez grew up here, earned her undergrad degree at the University of Miami, and has worked for 14 years as the morning and afternoon meteorologist for CBS4 News. The Cuban-American mother of two starts her day early (as in 2:30 or 3 a.m.) so you can start yours off in the know thanks to her weathercasts, which air weekdays from 5 to 9 a.m. and again at noon. Fair weather news or foul, Gonzalez delivers the goods with a contagious smile and a soothing voice that urges you to believe it’ll all be all right —stage presence that can be traced back to her pageantry days (she’s won Miss Miami, Miss Florida, and was second runner-up for Miss America in 1998) and her stint as María in the Off-Broadway musical 4 Guys Named José…and una Mujer Named María.

Even in these times of satellite radio and unlimited streaming, terrestrial AM and FM radio has managed to survive and, in the case of WVUM, thrive. The University of Miami’s student-run station began as a pirate operation in 1967, but over the decades it has become a local institution (with a clear, strong signal, to boot). While most stations play more commercial than music, WVUM has long been commercial-free, save for the rare public-service announcement. What you get are heaping helpings of off-center musical selections from bands you won’t hear anywhere else, plus genuine indie rock, hip-hop, and world music, with the occasional spoken-word poem and Hurricanes sporting event for good measure.

Now more than ever, Miamians need a reason to smile. Ideally, sports are meant to provide those smiles, even if they come from fans sharing a bit of self-deprecating agony until the home team turns it around. Brendan Tobin has a way of helping radio listeners bask in the highest of the highs and burst out laughing in the face of our lowest lows. Whether he’s making whale sounds at 6 a.m. because the Miami Heat are rumored to be landing their next star, dressing up as “Marlins Macho Man” after the Fish pull out a win, or getting in the middle of a Jake Paul–Floyd Mayweather melée, Tobin is at the center of all that’s right in Miami sports radio. Win, lose, or draw, Miami sports fans can look forward to tuning in the next morning to hear Tobin’s take on it all. While we never know what he’s going to do, we do know it’ll make us smile.

You’ve probably heard her infectious voice while listening to The Afternoon Get Down on 99 Jamz on your way home from work. For more than 20 years, Supa Cindy has graced local airwaves with her lighthearted banter on music and pop culture, climbing the ranks from intern to co-host. She got her start on The Big Lip Bandit Morning Show alongside former 99 Jamz personality Big Lip Bandit and comedian Benji Brown. “We definitely changed radio in South Florida,” she says of that experience. “Big Lip and I were the first duo, male and female, that had the same amount of talk time. I think that’s what people related to. Our chemistry and arguing over the air like brother and sister.” Now she’s the quintessential voice of Miami, lending her voice to topics ranging from entertainment news to mental-health discussions, while continuing her impact on the local hip-hop scene with her “Miami Cypher” series and her latest Sunday-night segment, “Co-Sign Radio,” where she debuts new music from emerging local artists with co-host Jill Strada. “My radio career started with DJ Khaled, Rick Ross, Flo Rida, and Pitbull,” Cindy says. “All of them are my personal close friends. And to see their growth, I’m like, ‘Why is it impossible to see another Khaled or Rick Ross?'” Sure enough, her cyphers have shone a spotlight on up-and-comers like Kiddo Marv, King Hoodie, Tafia, Mike Smiff, and Tierra Traniece. “I love the community. I love I can go to any neighborhood and get the love and respect I’ve earned,” she says. “I love my people, and when I say I love my people, I’m talking about the 305.”

Whether casually holding forth in ballcap and T-shirt or dishing celebrity gossip as his drag alter ego Funky Dineva, Quentin Latham has become a YouTube go-to for pop-culture enthusiasts. Latham’s journey on the platform began back in 2009, “before the word Youtuber started,” as he says. For the past decade, he’s grown his brand via his witty and unabashed recaps of reality-TV franchises and commentary on pop culture and politics. “My ability to talk about anything from politics to socioeconomic issues to religion to hip-hop culture has definitely separated me from the rest,” he tells New Times. “The reason why I win on YouTube is because I’m smart.” The Florida State University alumnus has certainly cracked the code to getting the algorithm gods on his side —to the tune of more than 360,000 subscribers. But what keeps subscribers coming back is his candidness about his identity as a gay black man. “Being a queer black man from Miami, one of the biggest hurdles is hearing, ‘You’re a faggot,'” he says. “It’s something I truly had to overcome, because it’s something I’ve heard about myself since the second grade. At a certain point in this business, you realize: I’m more than that and my sexuality doesn’t define me.” These days he cohosts Fox Soul’s YouTube show Tea-G-I-F on Wednesdays and Fridays, sharing hot takes on current events and entertainment news. The Carol City native says he’s proud to represent the city that’s influenced his persona on YouTube and TV. “Atlanta jumpstarted my career— I did ten years in Atlanta,” he says. “But one thing that’s always bothered me was I became Funky Dineva in Atlanta but what people don’t realize is all this personality comes from Carol City, baby.” In the words of Funky Dineva: We see you, Nessa girl!

In a city where excess abounds, lifestyle influencer Alexia Frith, who goes by KandidKinks on social media, has cultivated a platform that prioritizes authenticity over popularity. A natural-hair YouTuber who began making videos in 2015 to educate black women how to care for their 4C natural hair, Frith wanted to create tutorials for underrepresented women. “When I started making videos, I didn’t see people who looked like me in terms of my texture and skin tone on a large scale,” she says. Now she has 60,000 subscribers on YouTube and 25,000 followers on Instagram. Her social media is interspersed with pop-culture commentary and conversations that reflect her audience. In 2018, she expanded those conversations offline, founding South Florida Naturals, a series of meetups and workshops. “I feel like in Miami specifically we didn’t have a lot of natural hair spaces or natural hair events,” she explains. “It’s like a sisterhood and I’ve made great friends and connections.” Despite her status as a source of beauty hacks for women who feel left out of hair and makeup campaigns, she refuses to be undermined by those who seek to pigeonhole her. “I’m not just hair, and no one is just their physical appearance. I felt like if I’m here and I have opinions and thoughts as a black woman, I know my audience has those same feelings,” she says. “I love to create that safe space for people that have similar experiences and similar life stories.”

Satire is often the sincerest form of endearment one can show for their hometown, and that’s exactly the kind of love up-and-coming TikToker Stephanie Veloso shows for Miami. Her “What Your Miami Neighborhood Says About You” series, for example, takes aim at “twice-divorced real estate investors” from Coral Gables looking to “diversify [their] sugar baby portfolio,” while her Miami condo series at once entertains and informs as she strides past the glossy façades of our town’s high-rises to expose their hilarious (and sometimes grotesque) reputations. Veloso, whose background is Brazilian-American, grew up in Miami and wants to help us all appreciate the Magic City as more than just “the land of blow and beaches,” as she once delicately put it. This she accomplishes by talking shit. “It’s like when you make fun of your family — only you can talk shit about them,” she elaborates. “It has to be one of us. I think I do it with love, and people can relate to it if they’re from here.” Veloso’s schtick is still evolving and her following is still nascent — climb aboard now so you can tell your friends you knew her when.

Khaled Mohamed Khaled has earned many titles. Superstar DJ. Hip-hop mogul. Soul fast food purveyor. Weight Watchers ambassador. Asahd’s father. But the loftiest crown he wears is Miami’s lord of the memes. A marketing mastermind, Khaled was among the first rap artists to understand the importance of having an outsize social-media presence, one in which his visage is constantly going viral with a simple facial expression. There are at least a dozen DJ Khaled memes floating around the Internet, endlessly reimagined and reshared. An April 2021 entry is a good example. It’s a video clip of Khaled sitting at outdoors in Jamaica, swirling a goblet filled with a chartreuse liquid. Suddenly, he stands up, his face a contortion of surprise and anger. The short reel has been reposted and reshared hundreds of times on TikTok, Instagram, and Twitter. You know the meme is certified because the @onlyindade bros reposted it as an interpretation of “that moment you realize your neighbor is trying to steal your mangoes from your tree!” Others saw it as “when you’re out with your girl and see your wife with another man,” “me remembering I forgot to cancel my free trial,” and “me realizing midway through my meal that I can’t smell or taste anything.”

On their own, Craig Robins and Jackie Soffer are formidable Miamians. He’s the commercial real estate wunderkind who’s transformed the Design District into one of the world’s most visited luxury retail shopping districts. She’s the scion to a family empire that built Aventura while forging her own path cementing development partnerships to build North Miami’s Solé Mia and the new Miami Beach Convention Center hotel. As husband and wife, Robins and Soffer are an unstoppable force in Miami’s high society. Their mutual flair for stylish design, fashion and art has landed them in the pages of W magazine and Architectural Digest. Like many one-percenter tales of romance found, their courtship began, well, in court. According to a 2018 W profile, Robins said they met when “she sued me.” It was a dispute over private-jet fees that was quickly settled when they realized “we didn’t want to fight anymore.” Exactly. Why try to beat your adversary when you can marry instead? Well played, you two. Well played.

At the intersection of NE 125th Street and NE Eighth Avenue in North Miami sits the charming Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA). Its most striking feature is a vast fountain at the entrance that’s often activated to showcase some sort of floating or water-friendly art piece. The plaza space through which visitors pass before heading inside is often dressed with art as well — whether hanging from the palm trees or strung in the air, the MOCA makes use of every cubic inch to display art to the community. Once inside the intimate space, one can always expect to be awed. Recent exhibitions include a sprawling collection from the Mexican artist Raúl de Nieves, complete with a life-size carousel inside the museum proper, and a moving show of works by the late Jamaican artist Michael Richards, who was killed in the World Trade Center attacks 20 years ago this month.

Josh Aronson has made a name for himself photographing actors and models, like Jordan Fisher and Karlie Kloss, for glossies such as Teen Vogue and Allure. He also recently shot for a national Kate Spade campaign. In addition to his editorial work, Aronson self-published his first photography book, Tropicana, in 2020. The limited edition sold out in a handful of weeks. Tropicana featured photos of young artists and activists Aronson photographed over the course of a year in different parts of South Florida. From the swampy Everglades to the sands of Miami Beach, he captures the essence of what life in Florida is like for twentysomethings in this era. In early 2021, he showcased prints from his book in an exhibit aptly titled “Tropicana” in a gallery space in the Design District.

Emmett Moore has been creating magnificent works for more than a decade. The Miami native finds inspiration from ordinary objects around him and often uses those same objects as material for his craft. He’s worked with T-shirts, textiles, wood, resin, house keys, metal — there’s no limit to what this man might employ to make art. Moore studied furniture design at the Rhode Island School of Design, which explains why his art pieces predominantly resemble furnishings. His most recent solo show, “The Grotto,” featured an array of abstract pieces in addition to a fully functional bench, table, and bookcase. All the artworks were constructed out of an expanded polystyrene-based material along with seashells to achieve the look of coral rock. Moore is currently represented by Nina Johnson Gallery.

Islandia Journal may be brand-new, but its founder, author and educator (and occasional Miami New Times contributor) Jason Katz, has the old soul of a zine dude. The magazine’s stated milieu: myth, folklore, history, ecology, cryptozoology, and the paranormal in the subtropics. The first issue sported an illustration of Everglades griffin on the cover. A a griffin! Miami, in particular, boasts a rich history of wild truths and even wilder folklore. The quarterly zine accepts submissions in the style of prose, nonfiction, fiction, reported pieces, and even poetry. Its inaugural volume one, Islandia published work by 20 local contributors, including a poem by O Miami founder Scott Cunningham and a story about a Scottish soldier named Gregor MacGregor by Nathaniel Sandler, the brains behind Best of Miami 2021 “Best Bookstore” honoree Bookleggers. Look for volume two to drop soon.

Now that it’s been a few years since Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey shut down, historians can look back and say about circuses, “What the hell was that all about?” Circuses were hotbeds of animal cruelty, exploitation of the disabled and the foreign, and who the hell thought it was a good idea to expose children to clowns? With a historian’s careful eye, Miami’s own Les Standiford takes us on a tour on the origins of the biggest circus of them all in his new book, Battle for the Big Top: P.T. Barnum, James Bailey, John Ringling, and the Death-Defying Saga of the American Circus. Standiford’s heavily researched tome brings alive a bygone America filled with eccentric characters like Barnum and Ringling, who monetized a culture in which every child dreamed of running away and joining the circus.

Kristen Arnett is the quintessential Florida woman. And as of last year, in a victory for the South Florida literary community, she’s officially a Miami woman. The award-winning queer fiction writer and essayist first captured the Sunshine State in its bizarre glory in her debut novel, Mostly Dead Things. Since then, Arnett has garnered a loyal following on Twitter with her witty repartee and clever jokes about everything from ravioli to 7-Eleven. Each of the Orlando native’s essays and books, which mainly focus on lesbian life, are like love letters to the Sunshine State, reminding us of all the ways we love and loathe this messy subtropical place. Her second novel, With Teeth, hit shelves in June.

The Selina Gold Dust is well on its way to becoming a secret to no one, but the retro boutique hotel on Biscayne Boulevard just shy of 79th Street still makes you feel like you’ve stumbled upon a hidden treasure. Lucky for us, this hotel is not just for travelers. Enjoy a Miami-inspired meal at Matt Kuscher’s Café Kush, a sunny day by the pool at one of the motel’s many pool parties, or a late night out at Don’s 5 Star Dive Bar, Kuscher’s new nightspot hidden beneath the main level and filled with “Don”-related Miami nostalgia, from Shula to Aranow to Bailey (AKA “King of Carpets”). You don’t want to miss this new Upper Eastside gem.

At the turn of the next century, if Miami isn’t entirely submerged, kids in elementary school will learn about the very beginnings of the Magic City’s transformation from a tourist-driven party destination into the tech hub of the Americas. They will click open a blockchain hologram that reveals the ancient Twitter archives of all the founding fathers of Miami’s tech-bro scene and up will pop a December 4, 2020, tweet from San Francisco venture capitalist Delian Asparouhov, who typed the following 13 fateful words: “ok guys hear me out, what if we move silicon valley to miami.” Among the prosaic answers to that seemingly innocuous question — “humidity is fucked”; “Too far south. Why not Seattle or Portland?” “Does Patagonia make speedos?” — came a response from the personal account of Miami Mayor Francis Suarez (@FrancisSuarez): “How can I help?” And nothing would ever be the same again.

If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to float through the clouds, Superblue is the place for you. It seems like Miami is the newest hot spot for immersive art, with traveling experiences popping up nearly every month — many of them zeroing in on Van Gogh, but whaddayagonnado? If you’re new to immersive art, think of it as an exhibition that allows visitors to view what’s on display from inside it. (It’s also the art that looks really cool on your Instagram page.) Thankfully, rather than skip town after one show, Superblue opened its magical doors to the public this spring and stuck around, having chosen Miami as its first location. Visitors can float through the clouds, get lost in a maze of mirrors, or look up at a breathtaking floral installation that hangs from the ceiling. Don’t know anything about art? Don’t worry! Rather than a traditional museum where you’re surrounded by “masterpieces” you’re supposed to gaze at in ignorant awe, Superblue invites you to create your own experience.

Careful readers of New Times Best of Miami editions might notice a couple of things. First, Feeding South Florida is based in Broward County, which even the most geographically challenged will note is not in Miami. And second, the charity was given this same award in the 2020 Best of Miami issue. But frankly, the organization is just that good, and its services are essential to the neediest among us in the entire region — which includes Miami-Dade County. During the past 12 months, the charity’s leadership and army of volunteers have selflessly stepped up to help South Floridians dealing with the fallout from the pandemic. Although the group was recently dealt a setback — losing out on a state food-distribution contract in Broward and Palm Beach counties — its long and impressive track record ensures that it will continue to fulfill its mission for years to come.

For those not in the biz, “flack” is a semi-unkind name for the public information officer of a given private or governmental entity. We journos like to shorten things, and these folks’ official titles are often something like “vice president of external relations for the South Florida subdivision,” which wastes a lot of ink. The term itself has murky origins. It could harken back to World War II-era anti-aircraft gunfire (AKA “flak”), as reporters often fancy themselves heroes in a battle between good and evil, which makes guardians of coveted information (the flacks) the bad guys in this scenario. Likewise, flacks often find themselves defending someone or something against incoming flak from people like us. In the ceaseless battle for information, both sides can occasionally lose the point of the exchange, and it’s the rare spokesperson indeed who is unfailingly knowledgeable, courteous, and bend-over-backward helpful. One of those is local treasure Eunice Sigler of Florida’s 11th Judicial Circuit. If she can get you the information you’re looking for, she’ll do it. If you have a question, she’ll answer it quickly and thoroughly. And if you’re looking for something that can’t be gotten, she’ll let you know and let you know why. Navigating the oft-contentious world of journalists, defendants, lawyers, and judges has to be a tough gig, but Sigler unfailingly does it with grace and style.

For more than a decade, Andrea Mercado has been a fierce advocate for communities of color. The daughter of South American immigrants and recently became co-executive director of Florida Rising, an independent political organization working to bolster the voting and political power of marginalized groups. Her work as cofounder and director of campaigns at the National Domestic Workers Alliance helped birth Domestic Worker Bill of Rights legislation in seven states and national overtime protections for two million home-care workers. At Florida Rising, she leads a team that registered over 200,000 Floridians to vote, passed legislation such as the Dignity for Incarcerated Women Act and the Tammy Jackson Act, won a $4 million dollar settlement for Florida families on disaster food stamps after Hurricane Irma, and provided more than $300,000 in COVID-19 relief for Florida’s marginalized communities. She does it all in an effort to ensure a brighter future for underserved groups throughout South Florida.

Frederica Wilson means far more to Miami than her iconic, colorful headgear might suggest. For years she has fought for under-represented minorities, first as principal of Skyway Elementary School in Miami Gardens, then as a member of the Miami-Dade school board, the Florida legislature and, since 2011, Congress. Before taking the oath of office to represent Florida’s 24th Congressional District (which covers Aventura, Hollywood, Miami Gardens, North Miami, and North Miami Beach), she founded the 5000 Role Models of Excellence Project, an innovative mentorship program for students. While in office, she went toe-to-toe with Donald Trump during his presidency, including roasting the president for mishandling a phone call with a grieving widow of a U.S. soldier. She’s never one to remain silent when it comes to injustice — she remains vocal about U.S. aid to Haiti after the recent presidential assassination, has helped residents of Edgewater negotiate with their landlords regarding displacement, and more. (She’s always dressed to the nines, by the way, because she’s inspired by her grandmother.)

The image of Jeff Bezos soaring above the Earth’s atmosphere in his own rocket earlier this summer was like a scene straight out of Dr. Strangelove, right down to the Amazon mogul’s Slim Pickens-esque choice of headgear. The 11-minute, $5.5 billion supersonic joyride may have been brief, but it represented in miniature the Miami native’s long journey beyond the financial exosphere. His adoptive dad, Miguel “Mike” Bezos, was a Cuban immigrant who came to the Magic City as a child during Operation Pedro Pan. Bezos was Palmetto Senior High’s 1982 valedictorian and spent a summer as a fry cook at McDonald’s, where doubtless he basked in the power of mass consumerism and automation. Bezos built Amazon into an omnipotent retailer by subjecting the company’s grunts to grueling working conditions and unrealistic productivity expectations. During the pandemic, which served as rocket fuel for online purchasing, tens of thousands of Amazon employees tested positive for COVID-19. Workers who spoke out against a working environment they felt was unsafe claimed they faced retaliation, and complaints increasingly surfaced that the company was interfering with unionization efforts. During the press conference that followed his his wild ride into space, Bezos went full Dr. Evil. Without a hint of self-awareness, he said, “I want to thank every Amazon employee and every Amazon customer because you guys paid for all of this.”

Born and reared in Miami, Cassius Corrigan is the son of a judge, who spent part of his youth in the courtroom watching his father at work. The experience led him to write, direct, produce, and star in a movie about a Latino MMA fighter whose fight extends beyond the ring as he battles with mental-health and systemic issues. Shot on location in Miami with a predominantly local cast, Huracán premiered on HBO in late 2020 and propelled a young Corrigan into stardom. Already this year, Corrigan has produced an action thriller, The Birthday Cake, which stars Ewan McGregor and Val Kilmer. He aims to continue to tell Miami stories and put them on the big screen for all to see.

In the late summer of 2021, as COVID-19’s Delta variant was sending an alarming number of children to the hospital, Lubby Navarro had the distinct honor of being the sole member of the eight-person Miami-Dade County Public School Board to vote against implementing a mask mandate. During an August meeting mere days before classes started for the 2021-2022 school year, parents, teachers, and health experts told the board that despite Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis’ bizarre posturing to the contrary, masks are students’ best bet to avoid contracting the virus, given the constraints of social distancing in classrooms and the fact that children under age 12 remain ineligible to receive vaccinations. Superintendent Alberto Carvalho had already announced he was ready to face the consequences of defying DeSantis’ order forbidding school districts from requiring masks without giving parents a choice to opt out. But Lubby Navarro was having none of it. Not long after the meeting, CBS4’s Jim DeFede gave Navarro a thorough Twitter reaming, pointing out that she calls herself “Dr. Lubby Navarro” despite the fact that she has neither a medical degree nor a doctorate from an accredited university, but rather an honorary degree the Catholic University of New Spain, an establishment located on the ninth floor of an office building in downtown Miami. (Perhaps not surprisingly, the Miami-based Christian Family Coalition Florida noted in its 2020 voters’ guide that Navarro supports “prohibit[ing] biological boys in girls’ bathrooms and locker rooms.”)

Marilyn Bonachea is as Miami as guava pie. In fact, baked goods are even to blame for her dalliance with one of the city’s biggest drug kingpins, Sal Magluta: She met him in 1971 while working at his parents’ Little Havana bakery back when she was a teen and he was a no-name Miami High dropout. In the recent Netflix docuseries Cocaine Cowboys: The Kings of Miami, Bonachea explains in detail her relationship with Magluta, who along with his partner Willy Falcon allegedly smuggled tons of cocaine and amassed an estimated $2 billion fortune. There were fast boats, alleged murder coverups, and lots and lots of cocaine. For years, Willy and Sal evaded police, and then, after the law finally caught up with them, it was Bonachea who continued working as Magluta’s bookkeeper, paying out for lawyers, friends, and family, and also bribes aimed at securing an acquittal. But law enforcement officers got hold of Bonachea’s handwritten ledger, she agreed to cooperate, testifying against her former lover, who is now serving a 195-year prison sentence in a Supermax facility in Colorado. Bonachea was in witness protection program until 2003. Now 65, she reportedly lives in the tranquil seaside community of Vero Beach.

Located in the up-and-coming neighborhood of Little River, not far from the railroad tracks, is a sleek white building nestled in a residential area. You might pass by and not think much of it. But behind this discreet façade is Primary (stylized Primary.), an art gallery founded in 2007 that features works from local, national, and international artists. Its interior, with exposed concrete paired with fresh white walls and wooden beams overhead, make the space feel like the ideal setting for all sorts of works of art. A recent exhibition, titled “Can’t Wait to Meet You,” was organized to highlight bright, fun works that would be suitable for children. Why, you ask? Because two of its founders, Books Bischoff and Cristina Gonzalez, just welcomed their first child together.

As South Florida — and the world — attempts to come out of its social hibernation, it’s time again for the mating dance of alcohol, tobacco, and bad decisions. Fewer places in South Florida are as accommodating to the ritual as Barceloneta, with its ready supply of out-of-this-world gin and tonics, a United Nations-like array of patrons (many seeming to favor harsh European smokes), and an outdoor seating area that practically begs folks to interact with one another. The food — sensuously plated and meant to be shared — offers another opportunity for mingling, but the drinks are the true stars here (try the Farmer’s G&T). The very air in this Sunset Harbour restaurant seems seductive. So shoot your shot, friends: There’s no time like the present.

You enter beneath the neon sign and through the heavy doors into a space that’s dark and velvety but somehow warm and inviting. The lights are dim and good music is playing. Some dweebs are hogging the pool table, but that’s OK because you aren’t here for idle games. You make your way to the bar. When you order a serious cocktail from the list of serious cocktails, you take note that the bartender makes actual eye contact with you. No, you’re not in the Twilight Zone, you’re at Mama Tried. At one end, classic leather booths are there for the taking, or you might opt for a high-top adjacent to the area for dancing at the other. But for now you hang at the bar and peruse the menu. After a bit of liquid courage, you scope out the place. If it’s a weeknight, you spot the clusters of coworkers who stopped by for drinks and to bitch about work. If it’s a Friday night, the crowd looks ready to jump until 3 a.m. In either case, there’s like a 97 percent probability that a reasonably sober dude will catch your eye and ask you what you’re drinking. And if he doesn’t, remember you can do whatever the hell you please and ask him what he’s drinking. (Every year, we employ a rule that no business may be honored with more than one Best of Miami award from the editorial department. But at heart, we’re a bunch of rule breakers; see “Best Happy Hour.”)

Helmed by cofounder and creative director Akia Dorsainvil, cofounder Ashley Solage, and art director Terrell Villiers, Masisi is Miami’s black queer Caribbean party. The fourth member, says Dorsainvil, is the community that has made Masisi what it is. A Haitian Creole word that translates to “faggot,” the collective’s name is a reclamation of the term and relates to the unification of the masculine and feminine. The party was born from the flames of the radical queer feminist activist group (F)empower, where the founding members met. Their mission is rooted in political activism and the need for a safe space and nightlife event for queer and trans people of color, to, as Dorsainvil puts it, “come together and share mind, thoughts, theory and body and soul. This is a party that is geared towards and prioritizes black and queer pleasure.” Fed up with being discriminated against by bars and clubs with exclusionary dress codes and door covers, the creators sought to make a space for their community that’s both iconic and intentional — and that’s precisely what they did. Springing up in warehouses and other venues around Miami, Masisi serves the community by holding space for black artists and revelers alike.

Honestly, who knew it was even remotely possible to have a night out in Miami Beach for $25 — and during a Pride event, no less? The 2021 Miami Beach Pride Bar Crawl, which was presented by Miami Beach Pride organizers on June 16, made that happen. Twenty-five bucks got you a drink at five of the area’s most-frequented LGBTQ watering holes: Gaythering, Axel, Nathan’s, Palace, and Twist. For plenty of folks, the month of June marked the first time in more than a year (thanks, COVID!) that people felt comfortable enough to venture back out socially into the bar scene. Attendees drank, danced, and drank some more at each of the five bars. The well-attended crawl attracted a diverse crowd from across the LGBTQ community, making for a refreshing deviation from a usual night out surrounded by mostly cisgender white gay dudes. Simply put, the Miami Beach Pride Bar Crawl is one hell of a party.

You’ve heard it before from some New York transplant, or worse, a tourist. Miami is NYC’s “sixth borough.” It’s patronizing, it’s soul-wearying, and it minimizes how culturally significant the Magic City is in its own right. It almost makes you want to denounce all the great things we have here that got their start in New York, like the Russian & Turkish Baths, Smith & Wollensky, and Brittany Brave, the hardest-working comic on Miami’s stand-up circuit. Brave has been performing, seemingly nightly, from South Beach to Boca Raton, since moving to Florida last fall. Her sets are frenzied blends of self-deprecation and feminism, with a healthy smattering of raunch intertwined throughout. Her crowd work is natural, playful, and (mostly) kindhearted, aside from instances of putting hecklers in their place every now and then, which she accomplishes with admirable tact. It may be painful to give this honor to someone who made a name for herself in the Big Rotten Apple™ — but hey, she did grow up in Kendall.

Fanatics make a point to visit jazz clubs in the South and Northeast that were revolutionary decades ago. They sit in dusty rooms, pay too much for cocktails with too little booze in them, and fight the boredom that comes with watching old cats trying to replicate the traditional sounds that they, and the rest of us, though afraid to admit it, are a little tired of hearing at this point. They ought to take themselves to Little River, where, hidden among quaint old houses and warehouse spaces is a sprawling jungle called the Center for Subtropical Affairs. A nursery and “ecological learning center” by day, this botanical serves up cutting-edge live music, original cocktails, and a plethora of Instagram-worthy backdrops by night. It feels like you discovered something when you walk into the place, which at first glance looks to be some guy’s backyard. But it’s not. Every Thursday is Jazz Night, which draws some of Miami’s finest musicians. The place is huge: You can easily find a spot to sit and chat with friends or mack on your date without being a jerk and interrupting the performers. Or, you know, you could find a seat near the stage and have your mind melted by the crazy sounds Miami’s jazz kids are concocting these days.

We all love a good ladies’ night. But when ladies’ night leads to a dreadful office hangover the following day, it’s not worth it. That’s why our pick is Batch Gastropub, where ladies’ night falls on a Friday – a night you can responsibly get hammered with the workweek behind you. Batch’s “About Last Night” party keeps the complimentary drinks flowing for ladies from 10 p.m. to 1a.m. Additionally, groups of six or more gals receive a complimentary bottle of bubbly — but make sure contact the venue in advance for the extra perk.

Miami is home to a dizzying number of fiercely talented drag performers, many of whom have gone on to cultivate nationally recognized brands —which is why it’s all the more impressive when you can separate yourself from the pack. Few have done so as effectively as South Beach staple Tiffany T. Fantasia. Endearingly dubbed the “Mouth of the South,” Fantasia has been performing for 18 years, 17 of them at her home bar, Palace (1052 Ocean Dr., Miami Beach; 305-531-7234). “The art of drag is the art of expression,” Fantasia tells New Times. “Having the ability to express myself in this form is very healing, not only for myself but it helps people heal from whatever they are going through.” You can watch Fantasia (and you better have some singles on hand ready to tip) at Palace on Wednesday and Friday nights as well as during the LGBTQ bar’s storied and oft-sold-out drag brunches — she performs Friday and Sundays.

She came, she saw, she paraded around South Beach for 30 years, she conquered. Now, she has retired. Shelley Novak, the alter ego of Massachusetts-born Tommy Strangie, has been a staple in the drag community of Miami Beach since 1992, helping to pave the way for performers who blur the lines of femininity by pairing heels and gowns with body hair and five o’clock shadows. She gave us the Shelley Novak Awards, which has hung around since 1993 to recognize well-known and up-and-coming names in South Florida’s drag scene. And as she leaves Miami for what she says will be last time (there have been several false alarms), she takes a piece of drag history with her. In Shelley’s wake are a growing number of avant-garde artists who proudly carry on her legacy of neither shaving nor caring about what people believe drag should look like.

Amid the pandemic, some creatives got, well, more creative. Juggerknot Theatre Company debuted its virtual immersive theater experience, Long Distance Affair, in 2020. In 2021, the company was back for another iteration that proved even more enticing than the first. Audiences from anywhere around the globe — and we do mean anywhere — were able to join this virtual live theater show to watch performances by actors in completely different time zones. For this second installment, viewers were able to virtually visit Mumbai, Beirut, Mexico City, Lagos, Los Angeles, or Portland. In each city, a local actor staged an inspiring ten-minute performance. It’s not easy to portray emotions on a physical set with audiences sitting a few feet away. Actors for Long DIstance Affair had to reach out and grab their audience through a screen. And that they did, beautifully.

It’s hard not to smile when you look up at the marquee at Tower Theater on Calle Ocho. The silver border, the classic white sign with black letters announcing the films, the art deco style of the building’s façade — it all feels like you’re traveling back in time to an age of classic cinema. The theater opened in 1926, and despite renovations to keep the space in tip-top shape, she doesn’t look a day over 25. Located in the heart of Little Havana, the theater is in an ideal spot to welcome both locals and visitors for some wholesome entertainment. A bonus: The place is said to be haunted by ghosts, including that of an employee who loved the theater so much he simply never left.

If you’re the type of moviegoer who enjoys fully reclinable seats and in-theater dining service from a chef-driven menu, Silverspot has a spot for you. The sprawling, multilevel theater, which opened in 2018, still flies a bit under the radar, which for those in the know means most weekends are free from hordes of movie-talking teens and ridiculously long concession lines. Crucially, the theater offers a killer happy hour from 4 to 7 p.m. Tuesday through Friday, when cinephiles can snag beat-the-clock drink specials and discounted bar bites before the lights go down and the curtain goes up.

Miami native Kareem Tabsch loves movies — so much so that the cinephile not only owns his own art-house theater (O Cinema), but he also directs and produces films himself. His acclaimed 2018 documentary The Last Resort profiled photographers Andy Sweet and Gary Monroe and the Miami Beach Jewish retiree community they photographed in the 1970s. Last year’s Mucho Mucho Amor, made in collaboration with co-director Cristina Costantini and co-producer Alex Fumero, tells the story of the late Puerto Rican astrologer and Miami icon Walter Mercado. The team received various accolades for the film, including an Emmy nomination. We hear Tabsch is now at work on a documentary about the legendary Miami pin-up photographer Bunny Yeager.

Directed by Miami’s own Billy Corben, 537 Votes tells the wild — and entirely factual — story of how the entire 2000 presidential election came down to a mere 537 votes cast in Miami-Dade County. The 109-minute documentary features interviews with political analyst Fernand Amandi and political consultant/presidentially pardoned felon Roger Stone, among other talking heads. With a heaping helping of archival footage, it tells a chilling story of what happens when national politics meets Miami politics. The hanging chads, the recount, the protests outside of the Stephen P. Clark Center in downtown — 537 Votes has it all. The film, available for streaming on HBO, was co-produced by Alfred Spellman, Corben’s longtime collaborator and cofounder of their production company, Rakontur Films. Don’t be surprised if Rakontur snags this honor next year: The production company’s latest documentary, a six-part miniseries titled Cocaine Cowboys: The Kings of Miami, premiered in August 2021 on Netflix — and it’s a hoot from start to finish.