This Valentine’s month, matrimony seemed to be under attack. The buzziest book of February is No Fault, Haley Mlotek’s memoir about the romance of divorce, and Anora, a screwball tragedy tracing the excruciating dissolution of a short-lived marriage, is the subject of endless Oscars chatter. Meanwhile, on the Monday after Valentine’s Day, I found myself in the cell service-free basement of Jean’s—bathed in red light that felt both romantic and sort of ambiently wrathful. It also happened to be a federal holiday (President’s Day), but the crowd seemed to be more heavily impacted by the former than the latter (the group aesthetic implied self-employment and Raya-based trauma). The throng had braved the freezing cold and a line around the block to attend The Thing Is, a performance series featuring a lineup of downtowners including Ivy Wolk, Caroline Calloway, Luke Rathborne, Rachel Coster, Jay Jurden, and Francine Pantana.
The thing is, the Instagram flyer for The Thing Is is pretty opaque in terms of defining what The Thing…Is. (The event was billed as “something to know about!” and “the most talked-about show in town.”). I had dinner upstairs at Jean’s beforehand, and was unable to glean any further information beyond the fact that whatever was ahead would be ‘very downtown.’ I was braced for anything from spoken word to stand-up, which ultimately turned out to be the right spectrum.
The evening’s festivities were expertly MC-ed, in cabaret-coded verse, by actor, writer, and very downtown vocalist Alex Arthur, who has been putting on the show pseudo-monthly since September with producer Cole Spike of John Doe & Co. “The Thing Is is a celebration of New York artists” that unfolds in a decidedly “anything goes, unstructured style,” Arthur told me when we chatted afterwards. “So far, everyone who has shown up is interesting, open to the experience, and hot.”
At the time, I didn’t know any of this. I was still upstairs eating impeccably fried artichokes as Caroline Calloway, wearing a floral Tyler McGillivary top and a hairstyle she described to me as “never-heard-of-the-male-gaze meets ascot,” abruptly absconded from the table. This was after telling me that she’d just learned I was bisexual via someone else’s Substack and that she nevertheless envisions me marrying a man. As always, I appreciated her candor. As we wrapped up dinner and prepared to head downstairs for the show, we found her in the restaurant kitchen painting a portrait of the chef, Lizzy Koury. Before putting away her palette, Caroline encouraged her friends to paint directly on her floor-length white skirt, an impulse that lent her the look of one of those ‘divine feminine energy’ Tiktokkers.
As promised, the evening’s performances ranged from confessional to chaotic, infused with a refreshingly earnest spirit of play—if occasionally lacking in nuance. First on the stage was Rachel Coster, the TikTok comedian known for her bold anthropological field work in the harrowing field of the male bedroom, who confessed to starting her mornings with four Celsiuses. Musician Luke Rathborne gave a charmingly melancholic performance of original songs from his forthcoming “folk goth” album (a genre I was not previously aware of, but which sounds like a joint slay), introducing one by claiming that it was not about his recent situationship, and that he’d only just learned the term. (I saw a tweet the other day that deemed the portmanteau “gauche,” offering alternatives with a bit more elan—like “entanglement” and “dalliance.” The word does lack a level of eros or elegance, and what is the point of a doomed tryst without either?). Other highlights included a series of “progressive but also regressive” bits from comedian Jay Jurden, who accused the crowd of failing to give the vibe that they suck dick. I resonated with his takes on pansexuality and Maryland (both flags are ugly). And of course, there was Calloway, who performed a dramatic monologue inspired by her most recent book while holding two aperol spritzes by their crossed stems so they resembled a kind of ludicrous crucifix. Owning an accidental spill, she poured one of them down the front of her freshly painted skirt mid-performance.
Another standout was Ivy Wolk; the Anora actress, stand-up comic, and controversial Twitter presence who belted out a rousing rendition of Patti Smith’s “Pissing in a River.” After the show, she explained this surprising choice of medium. At fourteen, Wolk watched what she described as “a very underseen Riot Grrrl lesbian film,” All Over Me, in which the teenaged protagonist sobs to “Pissing in a River” while chugging a forty for two full, uninterrupted minutes. (I have since watched—can confirm that the scene is breathtaking, and the Ani DiFranco and Sleater-Kinney stacked soundtrack is sublime).
I left Jean’s disoriented and inspired by the barrage of heartfelt, eccentric performances. Regardless of what The Thing Is actually is, it’s certainly devoted to preserving endangered art forms, from conversation to cabaret. Each participant genuinely committed to the bit —a bold choice in today’s cultural climate. Perhaps Rathborne summed it up best: “the night was successful in the sense that the question that came to mind was, ‘what the fuck just happened?’” Rathborne’s inquiry resonated—the vague talk of ‘vibe shifts’ and the purported triumph of ironic fatalism over ostensibly cringey earnestness can feel a bit, well, deadening. So there was something energizing, even optimistic in the chaotic and enthusiastic tenor of the night.
In many ways, 20-year-old Wolk embodies this entanglement—embracing or transcending (depending on who you ask) the nihilism-pilled discourse she’s been engaging with steadily since she rocketed to fame for her controversial comedic takes on TikTok as a teenager. To dig deeper, I caught up with Wolk later that week to talk sincerity, despair, Nancy Spungen, picking fights, and polyamory.
What’s the best place to eavesdrop in the city?
The train.
Which line?
Any of the numbered trains. The 4, the 6, the 3.
The 3 encourages a lot of drama in my experience. What would you say is the best restaurant for flirting in the city?
I don't go to restaurants. I have severe food allergies and celiac disease so I can't eat anywhere with gluten in the vicinity.
So where do you do your flirting?
After comedy shows, or hangs at bars.
What’s the best bar for picking a fight (verbal)?
You can fight with people at KGB because a lot of those people deserve to be yelled at. And obviously Clandestino—those people deserve to be fucking reamed.
What are some things you consider overrated, underrated, and adequately rated right now?
Overrated, I'm gonna say Anya Taylor-Joy. Underrated, sobriety. I think Addison Rae is pretty perfectly rated. I think everybody likes her the way that they should be liking her. I think people like her a healthy and safe amount.
And I do feel like she deserves a gay guy army to protect her.
Also, I think people are just in awe of how she is a true student of pop—she really is the reference queen.
Name an up-and-coming star—other than yourself.
I mean, everybody knows this, but Mikey Madison is the greatest actress of our generation, bar none. There is really nobody doing it like her, transforming themselves the way that she is. I wish Alana Haim would act more. I thought her performance in Licorice Pizza was so stellar and so charming. Usually when I'm watching actors, I'm not paying attention to looks really—directors are often too focused on looks, [which] can lead to casting based [less on] ability. But maybe that's just me, a bitch who peaks at mid on the bell curve, being salty. Anyway, that’s what I love about Alana Haim—her look is so from another time. Anyway, I guess Haim is making music again—but I'm like Girl, please put the guitar down and get in front of the fucking camera.
If you could star in the adaptation of any book, what would it be?
Nancy Spungen––famously the girlfriend of Sid Vicious from the Sex Pistols––was murdered at the Chelsea Hotel at age 22. The case remains largely unsolved to this day. Her mother wrote a book called And I Don't Want to Live This Life, which is about Nancy's childhood and adolescence. She was diagnosed as a kid with bipolar and schizophrenia. She was a drug addict; she was epileptic. She's a woman who everybody used to call ‘nauseating Nancy.’ People explained her away as maladjusted and freakish and disgusting and too garish. I would love to play Nancy in a movie because I understand her.
What do you think we’ll be arguing about in our group chats next month?
If Anora wins Best Picture, the whole house gonna be mad, bitches are gonna be fighting. I think it's gonna happen, not to toot my own horn. Now that Karla Sofía Gascón is a woman of scorned experience, Netflix is kind of dropping the ball on their multi-million dollar Oscars campaign for Emilia Perez.
That’s a perfect pivot to the next section of the conversation—about you, one of Anora’s stars. Can you talk a bit about your experience on set?
It was the best time of my entire life, a period of great transformation and change for me. I was 18, and going back and forth from college in Boston to New York, where we were shooting the film. I was living two very different lives, and experimenting with a lot of things. I was doing a lot of drugs. I was dating two people at once.
Do you recommend?
No. Incredibly stressful.
So polyamory, overrated.
Absolutely. Unless you have a very specific constitution, which I think most of the people doing it actually don't have. But whatever, you know, live your own truth. Anyway, I was dating two people at once. I was filming this movie. I was witnessing some of the greatest artists, craftsmen, and artisans in the world of film building something incredible. It was a time of great chaos and great creativity and a lot of emotional turmoil that I look back on so unbelievably fondly. There's no way that I would have rather spent my 18th year.
Speaking of your 18th year, you are one of the youngest women alive. How old are you now?
Yes. I am 20.
Okay, and you started your rise around age 13, I've heard, on a platform known as TikTok. When you were a teenage internet sensation, were you giving ‘pleasure to have in class’ or ‘terror to have in class’ in your non-internet life?
Terror to have in class. I'm autistic and I'm loud, so I was in trouble all the time. I always had a well-timed joke, but my intent was never to provoke or make people uncomfortable—I was just being truthful in the only way that I know how to be, and it caused a lot of problems for me. But the internet was a great outlet. Yes, people got mad at me for what I was saying, but it wasn't my first rodeo with that.
Speaking of problems and provocation, journalists love to describe you as a provocateur. Is that a reputation you relish? Is it one that feels like a misread?
I think I'm trickster-ish. I definitely have a devilish side, but a lot of the things I say that tend to upset people come from a place of deep pain. If I don't express or release it, it will kill me. I'll say these things because it's how my really dark thoughts manifest. I think oftentimes we're afraid to express that darkness, especially as women, so as not to rock the boat or shake the table or move whatever fucking object.
We're famously supposed to set the table instead of flip it over. I wanted to talk to you about this because you've been accused or complimented, depending on who you ask, of engaging in a specific kind of irony-pilled discourse. I find the things you say to be very earnest—humor motivated by intense emotion.
I would not consider myself an ironic person at all. I can be snarky, bitchy, sardonic, but I don't consider myself to be doing anything ironically. I would consider myself to be a very earnest person because again, I am autistic. To me, everything feels kind of heart-achingly life-or-death earnest.
