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Tag: culture

  • How Lavazza and the US Open Brewed the Perfect Marketing Campaign | Entrepreneur

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    Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

    It’s no secret that sports partnerships can be a powerful tool for brands. But the ones that actually move the needle go far beyond some courtside signage or animated logos on a broadcast.

    The strongest collaborations are built on three pillars: authenticity, creativity and growth potential. Few examples illustrate this better than Lavazza’s decade-long relationship with the US Open. For the Italian coffee company, the Open is as much a cultural stage as it is for the athletes competing.

    Related: As New York City Prepares for Its First Casinos, Jay-Z Wants In — and He’s Putting Up $250 Million

    1. Authenticity…

    …isn’t complicated. Authenticity comes down to synergy between the partners. In this case, both the US Open and Lavazza are in the business of excellence. The Open showcases the best tennis athletes in the world; Lavazza serves what it positions as the best coffee in the world.

    By joining forces, Lavazza is trying to signal that it belongs in that same tier of prestige. The connection goes even deeper with ambassadors like ATP World No. 1 Jannik Sinner, whose Italian roots and elite play make him a natural fit for the brand.

    Both Lavazza and the US Open are centered around experience — whether it’s savoring a perfectly crafted coffee or watching an intense rally. The Open draws both avid sports fans and casual visitors, thanks in large part to on-site activations that could easily fill a whole day even without the tennis.

    “The US Open itself continues to resonate unlike any other event,” says Daniele Foti, Marketing VP North America at Lavazza Group. “It is a cultural phenomenon that commands global attention.”

    Lavazza is one of the brands making the most of that opportunity. During the event, fans could immerse themselves in Italian coffee culture across the grounds, enjoying classics and signature drinks, such as the fan-favorite Espresso Martini. Which brings us to…

    2. Creativity

    In brand partnerships, creativity is about turning a sponsorship into a story. Over the past decade, Lavazza has reimagined its presence at the US Open, evolving from a simple coffee stand into a full cultural experience.

    While guests are sipping espresso, they’re also spinning 3D prize wheels with Lavazza’s animated spokesrobot Luigi, sending postcards from the tournament and collecting custom selfie keepsakes.

    This year, Lavazza pushed the boundaries even further, literally. In collaboration with Casa Magazine, they took the partnership beyond stadium walls with a two-day takeover at Casa Magazine on August 20–21, bringing the energy of Flushing Meadows into the streets of New York.

    Visitors enjoyed complimentary coffee, latte art featuring both the Lavazza and US Open logos, and immersive photo moments that brought the brand’s “La Dolce Vita” identity to life.

    But they didn’t just serve coffee. They blended sport, culture and creativity. The brand turned a simple cup into a shared experience — one that captures the same balance of precision and artistry you see in a perfect tennis match, while also celebrating the craft and ritual of brewing.

    Related: ‘We Live the Brand’: Why Mark Wahlberg and Harry Arnett Built a Company That Embodies Relentless Ambition

    3. Growth potential…

    …is something the Lavazza–US Open collaboration has that in spades. Over the past decade, the partnership has evolved in step with the tournament’s cultural impact — growing from its early days with a rising Jannik Sinner to today, where he stands as the world’s No. 1 player.

    “Our partnership with Jannik Sinner, one of the sport’s brightest stars, reinforces that connection and further anchors Lavazza at the heart of the game,” said Foti. “That is exactly where Lavazza belongs: present, relevant, and closely connected to consumers today and for years to come.”

    It’s no secret that sports partnerships can be a powerful tool for brands. But the ones that actually move the needle go far beyond some courtside signage or animated logos on a broadcast.

    The strongest collaborations are built on three pillars: authenticity, creativity and growth potential. Few examples illustrate this better than Lavazza’s decade-long relationship with the US Open. For the Italian coffee company, the Open is as much a cultural stage as it is for the athletes competing.

    Related: As New York City Prepares for Its First Casinos, Jay-Z Wants In — and He’s Putting Up $250 Million

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    Leo Zevin

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  • The Florida Divorcée’s Guide to Murder

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    Hance couldn’t use his real name or Social Security number to find a legitimate job and began to manufacture methamphetamine in a backyard shed. A friend had taught him the process, and now Hance believed it was God’s will, giving him the knowledge and means he needed to support McCool and the children. He installed a large beaker and enlisted Timothy to help line the walls with plastic sheets. With Timothy as his assistant, Hance made two pounds at a time and gave it to a dealer friend, earning $2,000 for every ounce sold.

    People started gathering regularly at the house. “We were almost never alone,” Timothy says now. “Passing a mirror covered in meth was ordinary.” Unlike Hance, McCool didn’t snort meth, but she sprinkled some in a glass of cola and sipped it, making it last all day long. She called it her “perky Pepsi.” She knew their visitors came for Hance’s drugs. He believed they were “lost” and that God had led them to their door.

    One night Hance related an incident that occurred when McCool happened to be out. Two friends stopped by the house on their way to dinner, and Hance offered to lend one his gold crucifix to complement her dress. As soon as she lowered it around her neck, her skin raised up and twisted into dark knots that sizzled under the heat of the metal.

    Hance raised a hand and said, “In the name of Jesus Christ, I cast you out of her!”

    She thrashed and spat and screamed, “I fucked Jesus up the ass!”

    Hance and the other friend struggled to restrain her. When she finally settled, she blinked her eyes and asked, “What happened?”

    When these “healings” became more frequent, Hance grew suspicious of McCool; why was she missing every time the devil appeared? Was she somehow behind these demonic possessions?

    “Do you think it’s possible,” McCool asked him, “that they’re just putting on a show for you? So that you’ll believe in your own power and give them more drugs?”

    All Spreads: Hance and the couple’s friends demonstrated techniques for its illustrations.Courtesy of Gayle McCool.

    Unmasking “Rex Feral” Author of the Infamous Hit Man Manual

    Courtesy of Gayle McCool.

    Unmasking “Rex Feral” Author of the Infamous Hit Man Manual

    Courtesy of Gayle McCool.

    Unmasking “Rex Feral” Author of the Infamous Hit Man Manual

    Courtesy of Gayle McCool.

    Sometimes, there seemed to be a reset in his mind, a brief return to rational thinking. “What’s happening to me?” he’d ask McCool in those moments, and she’d tell him, “You need to stop doing the drugs so you can get back to your basic self.” Only later did she realize that Hance was likely suffering from schizophrenia, a condition that ran in his family. Even when he became suspicious and irrational and erratic, she never feared him—she feared for him. He had often said that she should prioritize their relationship; the kids would one day grow up and leave her, but he would always be there, till death do they part. She needed to stay and see the experience through, she decided, no matter how it might end.

    VII. “You’d Better Make Sure I’m Dead”

    Timothy had grown terrified of Hance. He’d heard more stories from Hance’s past, including various murders for hire. Tara, at age 18, moved out and got her own apartment, but Timothy felt a duty to protect his mother. “It was a rotten thing to do,” McCool says now. “I didn’t realize at the time that he felt responsible, but looking back, I can see it was an awfully big responsibility on his shoulders.”

    He tried to be a normal teenager, going to school every day and keeping his homelife secret from his classmates. One day, two local deputies visited his class to talk about law enforcement. “I sat at my desk biting my tongue, daydreaming about telling the officers that I was living with a wanted man who had been involved in murders and drugs,” he recalls. “I reasoned that they wouldn’t take it seriously, so I said nothing.”

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    Abbott Kahler

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  • Food Trucks Turn Dining Into a Live Reality Show Experience | Entrepreneur

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    Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

    Chris Brown doesn’t just run food trucks. He runs a broadcast studio on wheels.

    At World Famous, every truck doubles as a stage, outfitted with cameras, livestreams and even Ring doorbell cameras. Brown, who calls himself “China Man Live” when streaming, oversees five food trucks along with four restaurant locations across Florida and Georgia.

    Customers don’t just line up for food; they put on a show for his cameras. Some dance. Some rap. One woman even played the harmonica. Brown turned those moments into the “Chat with China Man” giveaway, a bracket-style competition where fans compete on camera for a $10,000 prize. The result is part restaurant, part reality show.

    “It’s showtime,” Brown says. “You gotta put on something. People come out because they’ve been hearing about me for so long. The experience has to be there.”

    That experience feels more like an amusement park ride than a quick bite to eat. Fans wait in lines for over an hour, excited for the Championship Egg Roll Food Truck Tour.

    Brown himself compares it to a ride at Disney World. Behind the scenes, he has built the infrastructure to make the magic possible. His trucks carry 4K cameras, BirdDog joysticks and AI-driven meeting cameras that let him virtually appear at any location.

    From his broadcast control center, he merges internet systems and drops into different sites in real time, greeting crowds as if he cloned himself.

    The setup recalls a national news network, except the subject is egg rolls. Customers don’t just order food, they join a live broadcast watched by thousands online. When Brown shows up in person, the energy multiplies. “I’m like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny everywhere I go,” he laughs, showing off the sparkly grill on his teeth.

    For Brown, selling egg rolls is only half the story. The other half is creating a spectacle big enough to match the name World Famous.

    Related: This Global Beverage Giant Will Help Market Your Restaurant — For Free. Here Are the Details.

    An accidental superpower

    Brown never planned to run a restaurant. His first attempt nearly collapsed.

    When he opened a small takeout spot almost a decade ago, he hired cooks to run the kitchen while he handled the business side. It fell apart. “They were just taking me for a paycheck, taking me for a ride,” he admits. Right before closing the doors, his wife asked what was next. Brown’s answer surprised even himself: He would step into the kitchen.

    What he found there changed everything. “I realized I have a superpower like an X-Man,” he says. That superpower was a sharp palate and a knack for creativity. He experimented with oxtail fat burgers and scratch-made sauces, but knew burgers and wings would only carry him so far. To stand out, he turned to egg rolls.

    Related: He Went from Tech CEO to Dishwasher. Now, He’s Behind 320 Restaurants and $750 Million in Assets.

    His first flavors, including Philly cheesesteak, chicken Philly and his yin-yang sauce, were instant hits. Soon he was competing in food festivals across Florida, beating Italian restaurants at Magic City Casino and winning first place with his Cuban-inspired “croquette roll.” He didn’t just enter competitions; he dominated them.

    Crowds followed. At food truck roundups, Brown’s lines stretched so long that other vendors complained. Rather than back down, he leaned into the demand and created the Championship Egg Roll Food Truck Tour, a traveling circuit that draws thousands each weekend.

    Expansion soon followed with restaurants, commissaries and fleets of trucks across Florida and Georgia. Through it all, Brown has been relentless about consistency. “I’m like [Gordon] Ramsay on steroids in my commissary,” he says. “I just want everything to come out perfect.”

    Now that same obsession fuels his technology. From 4K cameras to AI-driven systems, Brown has turned food trucks into a connected network of kitchens and studios. Every egg roll is made to standard, every interaction is captured on camera, and every customer becomes part of the show. For Brown, food and broadcast are inseparable, and together, they just might make World Famous live up to its name.

    Related: People Line Up Down the Block to Try This Iconic NYC Pizza. Now, It Could Be Coming to Your City.

    About Restaurant Influencers

    Restaurant Influencers is brought to you by Toast, the powerful restaurant point-of-sale and management system that helps restaurants improve operations, increase sales and create a better guest experience.

    Toast — Powering Successful Restaurants. Learn more about Toast.

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    Shawn P. Walchef

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  • Prince Nikolaos of Greece Makes Rare Public Appearance in Athens

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    Nikolaos of Greece and Chrysi Vardinogianni live very discreetly in Athens, and rarely make public appearances. The son of Constantine of Greece is dedicated to the world of photography and last February, shortly after his wedding to the wealthy Greek heiress, he presented some of his photographic work at the Tsoukala Stefanidou Gallery as part of NOMAD 2025 in St. Moritz.

    “Through his work, Prince Nikolaos continues to explore the dialogue between nature, abstraction, and perception, inviting viewers into a world where materiality and emotion merge seamlessly,” the gallery said in a release.

    The prince has a public profile on Instagram, where he shares photos and messages celebrating important days, like March 25, when Greek Independence Day is celebrated. “Happy Greek Independence Day! On this important day, we honor our national heritage with pride, gratitude and hope for a better future,” he wrote last year in the caption of a video of his country’s flag.

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    His wife, too, is rarely seen at public events. She made her debut alongside the Greek royal family last April at an event of the Association of Athenians, one of the oldest and most important institutions in Athens, which celebrated the 130th anniversary of its foundation. She toured the Association with her husband, mother-in-law, and brother-in-law Paolo, then enjoyed the presentation of the Association’s Gold Medals to three distinguished personalities of the city by members of the royal family.

    Nikolaos of Greece and Chrysi Vardinogianni were married on February 7, 2025 at the Church of St. Nicholas of Rangava, the oldest temple in Athens. Queen Sofia and the Infantas Elena and Cristina attended the family event as a few of the approximately 100 invited friends and family members.

    Originally published in Vanity Fair Spain.

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    Nuria Hernández

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  • Charlie Kirk’s Favorite Influencers Have a Shared Message: Go to Church

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    When Alex Clark, the podcaster and one of Charlie Kirk’s top deputies at Turning Point USA, found out Kirk had been murdered September 10, the nonstop poster was left with only a few words. On Thursday morning, she shared her memories of Kirk, but added that it was “tempting to want to close up shop.” By Friday, she was making plans for the future. “Yesterday I woke up wanting to die,” she wrote. “Today I woke up ready for war. We can do this. TPUSA will be bigger and bolder than anyone could ever imagine. We cannot and will not stop.”

    She continued by sharing what she thought Kirk would want his followers to do next: “Go to church this Sunday. A solid, Bible teaching church. Keep going,” she added. “Buy the biggest American flag. Put it in your front yard. We will not let him die in vain.”

    This summer, Kirk made headlines for telling young women at TPUSA’s Young Women’s Leadership Summit to put their families first instead of focusing on their careers. Perhaps ironically, he had spent much of the previous decade supporting the careers of female influencers through his organization. Dozens of prominent right-wing influencers got their start at Kirk’s organization, including Clark, Candace Owens, and Representative Anna Paulina Luna. The contrast between Kirk’s public persona as a combative, occasionally insulting podcaster and his private reputation as a good friend to fellow conservatives helps explain the reactions to his death on both sides of the aisle.

    James Meyer of Meriden puts together a poster outside the venue prior to a vigil for Charlie Kirk on Sunday, September 14, 2025.Jim Michaud/Connecticut Post/Getty Images.

    The religious nature of Clark’s response reflects Kirk’s own pivot towards emphasizing Christianity in his public life. In the early years of TPUSA, which Kirk founded in 2012, his message was primarily secular. But in 2019, Kirk began working with megachurch pastor Rob McCoy. Two years later, they founded Turning Point Faith, which brought Kirk in contact with some of the country’s most prominent fundamentalist and charismatic pastors.

    Isabel Brown, another social media personality whose career was supported by Kirk, returned to her YouTube show with a tearful remembrance of her friend. She praised Kirk as a mentor: He “personally handwrote my recommendation letter on my job application for my first job at the White House in 2018,” Brown said. By Friday, she was back to a more regular format, presenting clips of vigils for Kirk on college campuses across the country. Brown also shared a video of a child expressing his sadness about Kirk’s murder before beginning a reading from the Book of Matthew. She also reacted to an Instagram Reel from podcaster and missionary Bryce Crawford, who said that Kirk’s death was a sign that the “devil has overplayed his hand” and would start a religious revival in America. (By September 15, Crawford’s video had more than 8.4 million views.)

    Brown added that she hopes Kirk’s death will inspire more members of Gen Z to embrace Christianity. “What I’ve seen more of—than support for America, support for the conservative movement, support for free speech and conservative politics—is a generational revival of faith, where young people everywhere are picking up our crosses. To bear the weight of this sorrow, but to move forward, to bring God into every fiber of our society again moving forward,” she said. On Monday, Brown continued in the same vein, with an episode titled “Charlie Kirk Was Right: America Is a Christian Nation.”

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    Erin Vanderhoof

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  • Jenny Slate, Like Her Emmys 2025 Dress, Is in a Moment of “Vibrant Bloom”

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    After Jenny Slate wrapped shooting for Dying for Sex, in which she plays Nikki, a freewheeling thespian taking care of her best friend, who has terminal cancer, she cut her hair short. “Emotionally speaking,” she tells VF, “there’s just so much going on for me all the time, that I don’t like a lot of fuss anymore around my physicality.” At Sunday night’s Emmys 2025 ceremony, where she received her first nomination for outstanding supporting actress in a limited series, her hairstylist Jordan M gave it a middle part and a face-framing bend. The new style is the kind of dramatic change one might expect of a classic breakup haircut—and in some ways, it is. The show, she says, helped her let go of some deep-seated self-criticism and emerge with a newfound self-understanding. “I can’t contort myself or over-adorn myself to try to send a message to anyone before I send a message to myself about what’s going on. I actually know very well how I like to feel and what I like to look like.”

    Slate, whose work has long explored a childlike curiosity toward the weirdness of the world, delighted in the fact that her Emmys dress, by Rosie Assoulin, is the silhouette she sketched as a kid when she was drawing “fancy people”: strapless, with a sweetheart neckline. “I had one of those moments that people sometimes have with their wedding dress where they’re, like, Whoa,” Slate says. (She had it, in fact, with her own wedding dress when she married her husband, the writer Ben Shattuck, in their living room.) Still, the dress was all grown-up, Old Hollywood glamour. Its sculptural black bodice contrasts with a billowing and slightly sheer white skirt, a tonal echo of the monochrome Slate, with the aid of her stylist Jordan Johnson, has been drawn to recently. (Her stand-up-special tuxedo and the gown she wore to accept her award for outstanding supporting performance in a limited series at this year’s Gotham Awards, for instance, both by Thom Browne.) It falls, she says, into the perfect combination of structure and comfort. But the big red flower on the sternum, which reminds Slate of when “a pie wins first prize,” is pure pleasure. “The dress is an exact expression of how I feel about myself and my work right now,” Slate says. “I feel strong. I have a preparatory process. I am structured. I feel matured, but I also feel like it is total fucking party time for me, and that I am really, really in a moment of vibrant bloom.”

    For the Emmys she kept her jewelry (“little, tiny things in my ears”) and makeup similarly minimal. Kirin Bhatty, her makeup artist for more than a decade, mixed a Chanel Water-Fresh Tint with moisturizer for a light, unencumbered finish. “I used to do lashes,” Slate says. “Now I’m just starting to pare it down.” But, in a trait she shares with the real-life Nikki Boyer she portrays on screen, “I love a lip.” After mulling a couple options, she went with Chanel Rouge Allure Liquid Velvet in Énigmatique. To foreclose pre-carpet nerves, her getting-ready soundtrack includes Adrianne Lenker, Big Thief, Aldous Harding, and—to invoke the feeling of her grandmothers, of true love and “soft, cushy feelings”—Chet Baker.

    Slate seems comfortable dwelling in places of contrast. When we speak about her look, a few days before the ceremony, she’s in Cleveland, wrapping the shoot on a not-yet-announced film, and living in a football-themed rental apartment provided by the movie’s producers. “It’s just a ton of team spirit in here,” she says. “The sconces even say Cleveland Browns.”

    Slate, consummate team player, has been thinking a lot about the ways outward appearances can mirror or support inner change. Her onscreen persona experienced a style evolution of her own. A few minutes into the first episode of Dying for Sex when, outside of a Brooklyn deli, Nikki learns from her best friend Molly (Michelle Williams) that the cancer she kicked into remission two years ago is back, metastasized, and incurable, Nikki is a study in muchness. Her plaid coat and mustard crushed velvet bag are oversized, her hair is loose, she wears a tangle of gold necklaces, and her hands glint with bracelets and rings. She moves through most of the Kübler-Ross grief stages, and then some, in mere moments, shifting from a stunned recitation of everything Molly’s done to keep the cancer at bay, to body-shaking sobs, to glorious, cathartic anger channeled toward the shop owner telling her to keep it down. “She’s an actress,” Molly tells the man, gravely. “Her emotions live very close to the surface.”

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    Keziah Weir

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  • From ‘ink’ to ‘I AM,’ Choreographer Camille A. Brown Expands Her Vision

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    Brown’s I AM expands on her signature blend of storytelling, movement and community. Photo: Becca Marcela Oviatt

    After a successful world premiere at Jacob’s Pillow last summer, Camille A. Brown & Dancers brought their latest work, I AM, to L.A.’s Music Center for three nights this past weekend. It’s part of their mini-tour with stops at McCarter Theatre Center in Princeton, New Jersey (Sept. 26), followed by dates in Boston (Nov. 14-15) and then Seattle (March 7, 2026).

    The new show uses her previous show, ink, as a jumping-off point. “In that one, I was talking about the idea of Black people being superheroes, because we keep rising,” Brown tells Observer. “The idea of perseverance and the celebration of onward movement, regardless of obstacles; I wanted to discuss what it is like to move through the future with joy. I wanted this to be an experience where we’re starting at joy from the top, then where do we go? I have fifty minutes’ worth of where we go. What does it mean to start with joy, and what does that look like with their individual bodies, and as a community, brought together?”

    The piece draws its title and inspiration from episode 7 of the HBO series Lovecraft Country, in which the character Hippolyta Freeman (played by Aunjanue Ellis) moves through time and space, visiting different eras and drawing personal insight, joy and strength through her experience.

    “I thought that was so powerful and spoke to me, personally, as a Black woman, and what I have to navigate in the world,” says Brown. “I wanted us to feel we have pushed out of these four walls, the black, the space, the universe. The solo, which I created for myself, depicts the story, and my interpretation of Hippolyta’s journey and my journey as an artist. Each section is another form of spirit and joy and love and community. And it’s shown through different ways, through brotherhood, through sisterhood, through funk and R&B, the ballroom, the church, hip-hop, African dance, everywhere we can possibly go.”

    Brown won’t be dancing the solo in this iteration of the show. That honor falls to Courtney Ross, an independent contractor with the company since 2019. “While the piece is created on her and debuted by her, the story is human enough to be transferred into what I can bring to the table,” says Ross about taking over the role from Brown. “Within the solo, there is a sense of reclamation, which is something Hippolyta is going through in her journey. So, there are moments where I’m reaching for a higher place. It’s leaning more and more into my joy, and there’s the thing that becomes the strength. Camille went to Ailey, where you’re heavily trained in ballet, modern technique and jazz. We have to bring all of those technical elements into the space.”

    Brown’s choreography incorporates ballet, modern, jazz, hip-hop and African dance. Photo: Cherylynn Tsushima Photography

    Originally from Jamaica, Queens, Brown studied at The Ailey School on a scholarship, while also studying at Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and the Performing Arts. Her early career was spent at Ronald K. Brown’s Evidence, A Dance Company, and she was a guest artist at the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater before founding Camille A. Brown & Dancers in 2006.

    Her work on playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney’s Choir Boy led to her first Tony nomination for Best Choreography. Her directorial debut, for colored girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf, garnered two more, for Best Choreography and Best Direction. Her fourth Tony nomination came for Alicia Keys’ jukebox musical Hell’s Kitchen, followed by another last year for Gypsy, starring Audra McDonald. At the Met, she worked on Porgy and Bess as well as Terence Blanchard’s Fire Shut Up in My Bones.

    “In the shows that I’ve worked with, everyone has to do everything,” says Brown. “If it’s not a dance focus role, maybe they don’t have as much to carry as a trained dancer in the show. In Hell’s Kitchen, the dancers had to be dancers in the space. With Gypsy, dancers had to sing, dance and act. So, it depends on the requirements of the show.”

    Ross confirms that working with Brown requires multi-disciplined training. “We are very well rehearsed. Once you get into the choreography, Camille is very detailed. With the solo, I have a bit more freedom because the solo is about freedom. So, I have agency. I love this work, I AM, my family loves the work and the community loves this work. I’m excited to continue sharing and hearing the response.”

    In recent months, Black voices have been targeted by government-backed anti-DEI measures in arts and educational institutions. “If I were to isolate and look at the news, it can be a lot,” Ross says. “It’s an intentional choice to be a Black woman from the African diaspora and say, ‘I’m going to step on stage and tell these very loud and proud stories.’”

    By continuing to do what she does, Brown is committed to speaking truth to power. “It’s scary; I don’t want to negate the fear aspect of it, at all. Hopefully, it inspires us all to have conviction,” she says of the crisis. “If we start censoring ourselves and start doing these things to get a grant or a performance, then is it really our art that we’re making, or does it turn into something else? In order for me to continue in this world, I need to focus on my work.”

    The piece reflects Brown’s personal journey as an artist, drawing inspiration from Lovecraft Country’s Hippolyta Freeman and the power of reclamation. Photo: Cherylynn Tsushima Photography

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    From ‘ink’ to ‘I AM,’ Choreographer Camille A. Brown Expands Her Vision

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    Jordan Riefe

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  • How Cava Grew From One to 380 Locations | Entrepreneur

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    Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

    Ted Xenohristos, co-founder and chief concept officer of Cava, drew inspiration from his immigrant parents’ Greek heritage and the food he ate growing up. What began as a humble restaurant inside an old Russian bakery in Rockville, Maryland, blossomed into a national brand with 380 locations across 28 states and Washington, D.C.

    “We wanted to do it for an affordable price and [offer] something that people could share,” Xenohristos says. “We built that first restaurant with our bare hands. Everything [was] from the Dollar Store, Target, Home Goods.”

    The first few weeks of business were filled with uncertainty and long hours. Xenohristos and Cava CEO Brett Schulman poured their energy into constructing the brand’s first location, building it from the ground up. Without a marketing budget, they relied instead on something more powerful: authenticity and hospitality.

    Related: He Grew His Small Business to a $25 Million Operation By Following These 5 Principles

    “We used our Mediterranean hospitality that we grew up knowing, without a marketing budget, without signs outside, without a POS system,” Xenohristos says. “We gave people free things — free drinks, free food, free dessert — and they eventually told other people, and before you knew it, that little restaurant had a really long line.”

    As word spread and momentum built, the founders realized they had tapped into something much bigger than a single restaurant. In just over six months, they opened a second location and expanded operations to include a retail line of dips and spreads, bringing Mediterranean flavors into grocery stores.

    Despite its rapid rise as one of Yelp’s fastest-growing brands of 2025, Cava never strayed from its core values of generosity and Mediterranean hospitality.

    “One of the reasons we started this business was to take care of people and to change the culture,” Xenohristos says. “We love food, we wanted to share it, but we really wanted to change how people were treated. It starts with that.”

    The brand’s mission statement is “to bring heart, health and humanity to food.”

    The company’s leaders demonstrate heart by caring for guests and staff, health through fresh Mediterranean ingredients and humanity by fostering connection and community inside and outside the company.

    “All those things together keep that culture alive,” Xenohristos says. “We still work hard to execute on that dream, to have a greater culture and restaurant.”

    Related: These Brothers Turned a 2-Man Operation Into One of the Most Trusted Companies in Their Area. Here’s How.

    Making culture a cornerstone of the business includes providing meaningful employee benefits, such as tuition discounts, family planning assistance, accessible healthcare and mental health resources. Cava also hosts an annual conference designed to foster connection and collaboration among general managers.

    This culture extends to the customer experience. Even in the fast-casual dining space, Cava’s team finds ways to create meaningful human connections. One such initiative is the “love button,” a tool that empowers employees to cover a customer’s meal if they notice someone having a rough day.

    Xenohristos says this initiative is all about “giving our team members the tools to be able to share that generosity that’s ingrained in us and our culture.”

    While no journey is without its challenges, Cava’s values continue to push the brand forward, redefining how guests experience food and hospitality. “As we continue to grow, the more we can do what we set out to do, which was change the restaurant industry,” Xenohristos says.

    His advice for current and future business leaders is clear:

    • Lead with purpose and heart. Building a business rooted in hospitality, care and connection creates lasting impact — for both your team and your customers.
    • Make culture your cornerstone. A thoughtful employee experience does more than retain talent; it distinguishes your brand.
    • Grow without losing your roots. No matter how big you scale, stay grounded in the mission that started it all. Authenticity is your most valuable asset.
    • Empower generosity. Give your team tools to care about their work, people and purpose. Small acts of kindness create big ripple effects.
    • Don’t just follow the industry — change it. Cava didn’t just open restaurants. It built a movement around food, humanity and culture, proving that chains can be both scalable and mission-driven.

    Related: Two Industry Leaders Share Their Best Advice for Restaurant Owners – And Reveal the Exact Amount You Can Raise Prices Without Losing Customers

    Watch the episode above to hear directly from Xenohristos, and subscribe to Behind the Review for more from new business owners and reviewers every Wednesday.

    Editorial contributions by Jiah Choe and Kristi Lindahl

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    Emily Washcovick

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  • Screening at Venice: Gus Van Sant’s ‘Dead Man’s Wire’

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    A rushed follow-through leaves the film’s mere 105 minutes feeling somewhat purposeless in the grand scheme of things. Courtesy Venice Film Festival

    There’s something to be said about movies that are just good enough, especially those that refashion real events into cinematic junk food. It is, however, hard not to be disappointed when one such work comes from Gus Van Sant, which makes Dead Man’s Wire a frustrating experience despite its climactic vigor. The tale of a disgruntled Hoosier who takes a rich man hostage in 1977, the film re-creates the lengthy standoff in immense visual detail but rarely probes beneath the surface of its colorful characters and relegates any sense of tension or intrigue to its climactic scenes.

    Van Sant has made several biopics (or pseudo-biopics) involving American gun violence, from the Palme d’Or-winning school shooter drama Elephant (2003) to the Oscar-winning gay rights drama Milk (2008). After decades of doing so, any artist is likely to lose their fascination with the subject, given how it’s ground to a standstill politically. And yet, the director presses on despite this, crafting a film where the threat of pulling a trigger is rarely riveting and even verges on doltish at times, as troubled Indianapolis resident Tony Kiritsis (Bill Skarsgård) tethers a wire to himself, his shotgun, and his wealthy would-be victim Richard Hall (Dacre Montgomery), in a kind of janky proto-Saw trap set to go off if the police intervene. But while the drama seldom feels zealous or threatening, it’s underscored by disappointment and disillusionment, the kind that has driven the weary Kiritsis to hold Hall at gunpoint.

    DEAD MAN’S WIRE ★★1/2 (2.5/4 stars)
    Directed by: Gus Van Sant
    Written by:  Austin Kolodney
    Starring:
    Bill Skarsgård, Dacre Montgomery, Colman Domingo, Al Pacino, Cary Elwes, Myha’la
    Running time: 105 mins.

    Whatever Van Sant’s feelings about this kind of subject matter may have once been, he appears to now translate them through a lens of sheer exhaustion. “Here,” the movie gestures wearily. “Another one of these. Pew pew.” It is, on one hand, fascinating to watch a film whose director seems fed up with his own characters and with the very premise of being driven to gun violence while fashioning oneself into a martyr. And yet, Van Sant’s Taxi Driver-esque tale (by way of Fargo; his delusional anti-hero is surprisingly polite) lives in the body of a based-on-real-events saga without embodying the reality from which it draws.

    Kiritsis, like Van Sant, is methodical, and the character responds to each of his plans going awry with a scrappy backup ploy (and a backup to each backup). This results in him kidnapping Hall from the fancy offices of his family mortgage company instead of his elderly father (an underutilized Al Pacino), who happens to be on vacation, and taking Hall to his cramped apartment as a number of policemen—with whom he happens to be friends—roll their eyes while in pursuit. Kiritsis’ motives are gradually revealed, and his demands involve apologies and restitution. His public declarations over the TV and radio establish how heroically he sees himself, so it’s no surprise that he foolishly believes the world to be entirely on his side, to the point that he thinks he’s in no danger of being arrested once things are all said and done.

    It’s all very interesting on paper. The oddball case makes you wonder whether a crime so idiosyncratic really transpired, and the performances do a great job of selling the oddity of it all. Skarsgård, although he taps into Kiritsis’ wounded-animal nature and occasional snappiness, is a treat to watch in the moments he dials back and acts completely casually, as though trying to convince Hall he’s approachable despite holding a 12-gauge Winchester to his neck. Montgomery, meanwhile, eschews the usual charisma for which he’s cast and makes himself physically meek and small, embodying a sniveling desperation that, on occasion, makes Kiritsis’ grievances seem worth considering.

    However, Van Sant never pushes Dead Man’s Wire in either of these two directions and instead lets it wallow in a casual middle ground. The unfolding action is never farcical enough to make the film satirical or outright funny, but it’s also never imbued with enough historical gravity to truly matter. Snapshot re-creations of known photos and news footage, and the presence of locally popular field reporters and radio hosts (played by Myha’la and Colman Domingo, respectively) seek to clarify the film’s reality, but these characters end up bit players in its opaque dramatic fabric rather than becoming living, breathing people crossing paths with an extraordinary, potentially violent scenario. The bigger picture, the moving pieces, and the various plans and strategies to save Hall never fade into view.

    When it comes time for the standoff to end, the questions of how it’ll wrap up, who’ll survive, and which somewhat personable character will be forced to pull the trigger grant Dead Man’s Wire a temporary intensity. This last hurrah isn’t quite “too little too late,” but its rushed follow-through leaves the film’s mere 105 minutes feeling somewhat purposeless in the grand scheme of things. It’s a tale with no purpose beyond letting viewers know, with a bemused cadence, that something quirky once happened in Indianapolis and that it could’ve been much more destructive—and perhaps much more enrapturing—than it really was.

    More from Venice:

    Screening at Venice: Gus Van Sant’s ‘Dead Man’s Wire’

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    Siddhant Adlakha

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  • FBI blunders and internet panic: How the search for Charlie Kirk’s killer went off the rails

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    Authorities announced on Friday morning that they made progress in solving a mystery that has gripped the nation for two days: who murdered conservative activist Charlie Kirk with a rifle during a crowded event at Utah Valley University.

    Utah Republican Gov. Spencer Cox told reporters that 22-year-old Tyler Robinson had been turned in by his family after he “confessed to them or implied” his guilt in the assassination. A roommate also showed police Discord chat messages from Robinson about hiding a rifle, according to Cox, who said that Robinson acted alone.

    Without those tips, it’s hard to know how long the manhunt would have gone on for. The night before, authorities had signaled that they were completely stumped. Officials pleaded with the public for information based on a few grainy surveillance stills on Thursday night, and Utah Public Safety Commissioner Beau Mason told NBC News that authorities had “no idea” where the shooter was.

    Progressive critics—as well as conservative consigliere Chris Rufo—have accused FBI Director Kash Patel of bungling the investigation. Patel had caused major confusion by implying on social media that the FBI had caught the shooter, only to announce that the “subject” had been released after interrogation. That man, who was completely innocent, suffered a flood of threats after his name and photo were publicized.

    Adding to the confusion, police were also filmed escorting a local elderly gadfly out of the event while the crowd blamed him for the shooting. And to make matters worse, internet sleuths misidentified him as yet another innocent person who was nowhere near Utah at the time.

    Of course, chaos and mistakes are an unavoidable part of crises. Thankfully, none of these mistakes led to anyone’s death, as they have in the past. It will take a while for the full story behind the Kirk investigation to come out, to understand which errors were understandable and which were inexcusable.

    At the very least, the manner of Robinson’s arrest throws cold water on the idea that mass spying and heavy-handed police powers are the solution to dramatic crimes. In his post lambasting Patel’s leadership, Rufo also called for “a campaign to disrupt domestic terror networks” and “to investigate, infiltrate, and disrupt the violent movements—of whatever ideology—that threaten the peace in the United States.”

    But it’s not clear that more aggressive political surveillance would have stopped or caught the suspected assassin. The photos that identified him came from old-fashioned security cameras in a hallway, which captured him walking up a stairway and then jumping off the roof after the assassination. Robinson’s father, a longtime sheriff’s deputy, reportedly recognized his son from the photos and told him to turn himself in.

    Meanwhile, the release of the surveillance photos had led to a flood of tips that wasted the authorities’ time. At the Thursday night press conference, Cox said that authorities were sifting through 7,000 tips from the public.

    “It is clear they do not know the name of the suspect, that they don’t have a cellphone track, they don’t have fingerprints, DNA, or digital footprint,” journalist John Solomon, who is close to Patel, told Fox News after the press conference. “And that’s why they’re putting so much personally identifying information up, to try to help get the public to find something that’s there.”

    And the assassination did not come out of an organized political network that could be infiltrated. Although there are signs pointing to a left-wing motive—Cox said that a family member told police that Robinson was angry about Kirk coming to Utah because of his political beliefs—Robinson seems to be, like many other shooting suspects, a lone wolf who spent too much time on the internet.

    An internal law enforcement bulletin, leaked to the press, initially reported that the shooter had written messages about “transgender and anti-fascist ideology” on bullet casings. Those turned out to be a mix of references to the video game Helldivers 2 (which features killing fascists) and lewd jokes. “If you read this you are gay LMAO,” one of the casings read. Another mocked the “furry” fetish subculture.

    An eccentric personality with no criminal record who plays lots of video games and dislikes conservatives is a pretty broad profile, one that covers potentially millions of people. Most of them are neither violent nor members of organized political “networks” that could be disrupted. If the past few days are any indication, encouraging mass online reporting of anyone suspicious can actually make the police’s job harder.

    Using Kirk’s murder to tighten government restrictions would not only be ineffective at preventing more incidents like it. It would also be an unfortunate rebuke to Kirk, who often preached freedom over control.

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    Matthew Petti

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  • Where the “Woke” Debate Burns Hottest: In Incredibly Long YouTube Essays on the Likes of RFK Jr. and Ms. Rachel

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    Lindsay Ellis, a California-based filmmaker and mother of two, has been making videos for YouTube since 2007. But even she was surprised by the response to her most recent release on the platform. In her 142-minute video “The Unforgivable Sin of Ms. Rachel,” Ellis explains how the children’s entertainer figures into debates about “woke” children’s media before pivoting to conversations about genocide, the war in Gaza, and the roots of antisemitism. The video ends by saying that charitable donations can make a difference in situations that otherwise seem intractable, and provides a link to the Palestinian Children’s Relief Fund. As of September 12, the video has over 2 million views and has raised more than $750,000 for the charity.

    In a call one week after she posted the Ms. Rachel video, Ellis tells Vanity Fair that she put extra care into it. “If you are releasing something to YouTube, you are making a pact with the algorithm,” she says. “If someone already got to the topic, you had better have a good take. You had better have something new and refreshing, or people are going to be so annoying about it.”

    Ellis’s approach is more Ken Burns than Mr. Beast—a style that’s increasingly successful on a website once associated mostly with short, disposable clips. Though video essays, which intercut narration and footage—both self-recorded and stock—with occasional textual references, have had a home on YouTube since the site’s early years, they’re having a moment right now thanks to a generation of creators who have leveled up both their technical skills and their marketing abilities.

    Ellis’s opus on Ms. Rachel is only one of several slickly produced video essays that have racked up millions of viewers this summer, feature-length YouTube videos that feel more like documentaries than the prank wars or makeup tutorials of yore. On March 24, ContraPoints—a Peabody Award–winning channel with 1.9 million subscribers that counts Ezra Klein, Jameela Jamil, and Chris Hayes as fans—released “Conspiracy,” an almost three-hour deep dive into Jeffrey Epstein, Alex Jones, and Robert F. Kennedy Jr. that’s been watched 4.1 million times and counting. In August, Elephant Graveyard, an anonymous creator who makes videos about comedy, released a 90-minute video about Joe Rogan’s influence on the medium, both in Austin and globally, as part three of a bigger series on the famous podcaster. In typical YouTube fashion, its title captures the argument well: “How Comedy Was Destroyed by an Anti-Reality Doomsday Cult.” The trilogy has attracted almost 9 million views.

    Clearly, these videos are responsive to news headlines—but they analyze issues in a different way than news channels or topical comedians like Josh Johnson, whose viral stand-up sets launched him into a hosting role on The Daily Show this July. Video essayists rely on a balance of deep research and on-the-fly adjustments, taking a long view of what is driving the news cycle and continuing to tweak their videos until the very last minute—which adds an urgency that might not come through via scripted narration alone. Ellis said she improvised her latest video’s emotional conclusion soon before she posted it to YouTube. “I don’t know if you could tell, but my hair is dirty. That’s why it’s pulled back,” she says. “I filmed it basically the day before the video went up—like fuck it, conclusion.”

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    Erin Vanderhoof

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  • Screening at Venice: Mike Figgis’ ‘Megadoc’

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    The director’s portrait of Francis Ford Coppola’s creative process is never allowed to probe deeply enough. Courtesy Venice Film Festival

    From Leaving Las Vegas director Mike Figgis, Megadoc is a fly-on-the-wall documentary about the making of Megalopolis, Francis Ford Coppola’s white whale production, which he finally released last year. The response to Coppola’s mad utopian epic ranged from baffled to mixed, and while some, like myself, were awestruck by its ambition, there’s no denying that the $120 million self-funded saga makes for an enrapturing curio. However, it’s hard not to wonder if Megadoc is the right film to answer any burning questions, given its own troubles—which become a minor subject too, as Figgis is left with no choice but to turn the lens on himself.

    There’s no denying that Megadoc has at least some academic value: it’s the kind of documentary students might watch in a Production 101 class to get a taste of the chaos of big movie sets. This might sound like a backhanded compliment, but as the 77-year-old Figgis narrates in the opening minutes (about the 86-year-old Coppola), he’s never actually seen another director at work. Megadoc is a mood piece and a process piece, shot up close with lo-fi video equipment, but it’s never allowed to probe deeply enough. With jagged cuts mid-scene, several unfolding threads are left feeling incomplete, while the movie’s two leads—Adam Driver and Nathalie Emmanuel—barely feature, which Figgis attributes to their reluctance to be filmed on set. Much like Megalopolis, Megadoc faces challenges while searching for its voice. However, where Coppola succeeds in his pursuit by the end, Figgis does not, despite the movie’s many gestures toward riveting topics.

    The documentary not only chronicles the early days of Megalopolis rehearsals—during which Coppola plays theater and improv games, establishing his credo of having fun—but it also flashes back to earlier taped readings and screen tests from two decades ago, during which stars like Uma Thurman and Ryan Gosling were once part of the production. The long road to finally making Megalopolis just about fades into view, but the doc seldom seems to have enough footage to follow a single train of thought.

    MEGADOG ★★1/2 (2.5/4 stars)
    Directed by: Mike Figgis
    Starring: Francis Ford Coppola, Eleanor Coppola, Adam Driver, Aubrey Plaza, Nathalie Emmanuel, Dustin Hoffman, Giancarlo Esposito, Chloe Fineman, Shia Labeouf, Laurence Fishburne, Jon Voight, Talia Shire, Robert DeNiro
    Running time: 107 mins.

    Figgis, on the occasions that he speaks to the camera, seems acutely aware of his role as a storyteller in search of on-set conflict, which he finds most often in the relationship between the experienced Coppola and the hot-headed former child star Shia LaBeouf, a pair whose respective playful and logistical philosophies make for an awkward fit. LaBeouf references the controversies that have made him persona non grata in Hollywood, and how his precarious employability informs his initially cautious approach. This care is eventually shed, leading to numerous intriguing and hilarious clashes between the duo, but the film either isn’t interested in expounding upon Shia’s life (and the way it informs his mindset) or isn’t able to get the right sound bites. Either way, it comes achingly close to finding its heart and soul in the oddball, pseudo father-son relationship between the director of The Godfather and the star of Nickelodeon’s Even Stevens, and what a joy that would have been. However, the numerous times they end up at loggerheads, with their diametrically opposed approaches to meaning and artistry, end up lost in the shuffle of the doc’s many other concerns.

    There are tidbits about budgets, costumes, visual effects and so on, but Figgis’ record is too straightforward and too chronological (often in a literal, day-by-day sense) to capture the fraught process of filmmaking and how its challenges are overcome. Anytime the department heads are seen trying to pull off some practical magic trick, Megadoc seldom establishes what goal they’re working toward, in the form of either concept art or finished footage. Although we’re allowed to glimpse the finished product of certain shots, in the meantime, all we’re left with are scenes of people tinkering and working toward objectives that are rarely clear to even viewers who have seen Megalopolis.

    Some interviews with more experienced actors like Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight provide wise insight about Coppola’s process, while relative newcomer Aubrey Plaza forms an amusing bond with the director, based on sarcastic banter. But there’s never enough cohesion behind Megadoc to make it more than just a behind-the-scenes special feature. For a filmmaker like Figgis, whose 2000 four-way split-screen movie Timecode remains a landmark of digital experimentation—it was the first feature made in one take (that too four times over), even though Russian Ark wrongly gets the credit—capturing Coppola at his most wildly experimental ought to feel like a spark of madness burning through the screen. Whether or not it actually instilled these feelings in Figgis is hard to tell, but given Megadoc’s languid unveiling, the mad science on display rarely ends up felt, and is most often observed at a casual and disappointing distance.

    Screening at Venice: Mike Figgis’ ‘Megadoc’

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    Siddhant Adlakha

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  • At the Park Avenue Armory, a Mondrian Becomes the Stage for Radical Expression

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    Jeremy Nedd. Photo: Stephanie Berger

    It’s rare that a performance and a venue align so seamlessly. I rarely even consider how the two intersect, since they usually emerge from separate worlds—the universe of a show contained within a given space. But the North American premiere of Monkey Off My Back or The Cat’s Meow, despite being created and first staged in Zürich, Switzerland, in 2021, seems as if it were made for the Park Avenue Armory’s 55,000-square-foot Wade Thompson Drill Hall in 2025.

    The dance-theater-fashion show, directed and choreographed by U.S.-born and Zurich-based Trajal Harrell, unfolds on a bright 150-foot runway designed by Harrell and Erik Flatmo in the style of a Mondrian grid painting. The audience sits on either side of the runway like A-list celebrities, but with oversized programs in stadium-style seating that is more akin to theater. The Armory, long known for its big unconventional productions, has also hosted fashion shows. Fittingly, the building sits nearly midway between the birthplaces of two movement styles central to Harrell’s choreography—Harlem’s ballroom voguing and Judson Dance Theater’s postmodern dance, both from the 1960s. And even though the piece was made during the COVID pandemic and can be read as a meditation on the human need for communal gathering, its themes speak uncannily to the present: What is freedom? Who gets to express themselves freely? What does it mean to look a stranger in the eye?

    Monkey Off My Back or The Cat’s Meow begins with Harrell rising from a seat in the audience and introducing himself as Chloé Malle (Anna Wintour’s successor at Vogue). Harrell/Malle welcomes the crowd and recounts her phone conversation with Harrell, who asked her to open the show, sharing the quote “If you live, sometimes you have to dance.” In this way, we are immediately dropped into the show’s tone—performative, sly and deliberately breaking the fourth wall.

    Two people then peel back the large plastic sheet covering the set, so carefully that the audience at opening night even applauded their effort. On the Mondrian-like floor are low white nightclub-style couches and a central table beneath which an assortment of toys and household objects—props, perhaps—sit poorly concealed.

    A performer in a black Adidas tracksuit raises their hands near their face with eyes closed, mid-gesture, in front of a dimly lit audience.A performer in a black Adidas tracksuit raises their hands near their face with eyes closed, mid-gesture, in front of a dimly lit audience.
    Trajal Harrell. Photo: Stephanie Berger

    Suddenly, music explodes into the vast space. Someone steps onto the red, white, blue and yellow stage, and the show begins again. Performers enter one by one, striding counterclockwise along the perimeter to Samm Bennett & Chunk’s “Part of the Family,” which dissolves into Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good.” The so-called fashion show is immediately off-kilter: “models” wear bathrobes over gowns, rollers in their hair, empty sleeves trailing behind them. Soon it veers stranger—performers stumble and dishevel themselves. Across the evening, 60 costumes designed by Harrell appear, mixing labels from Comme des Garçons to Walmart. Some performers wear shoes, some go barefoot, but every catwalk dazzles.

    The cast is large—17 dancers plus Harrell, all part of his Zürich Dance Ensemble—and they reappear in bold looks until one finally steps off the grid, a rupture that feels both wrong and exhilarating. Another hikes a skirt above the knees and kicks wildly. A sneakered group forms at one end, shifting arms fluidly as though warming up, or channeling birds, or conducting an unseen orchestra. A performer picks up a mic from the couch and declares, “Section 2, The Tale,” hinting at narrative (spoiler: it never fully arrives, perhaps intentionally).

    Much transpires in Monkey Off My Back or The Cat’s Meow. The five sections stretch nearly two hours without intermission. The perimeter-walking continues with such persistence that it becomes a heartbeat, only noticeable when it halts. At one point, a woman is carried to a couch and begins reading the Declaration of Independence aloud—radical in its delivery. At another, a man atop a couch performs a Butoh-inspired solo, his body twisting in slow contortions. Later, Harrell dances alone to Imani Uzuri’s “Love Story,” moving like someone tipsy and unguarded at home with a glass of wine. Costumes change relentlessly, poses strike with force and the soundtrack ranges wildly—from Earth, Wind & Fire to Laura Nyro to Steve Reich. Two performers roam in sparkly panda suits.

    A group of performers in varied costumes, including a man in a black dress and headscarf, extend their arms outward while dancing together on the stage.A group of performers in varied costumes, including a man in a black dress and headscarf, extend their arms outward while dancing together on the stage.
    Thibault Lac and company. Photo: Stephanie Berger

    There is too much to take in; you are always missing something. Afterward, walking downtown, I kept replaying how the acts of watching and being watched felt strangely new. Perhaps it was because the house lights stayed up until the final abstracted folk dance, letting performers gaze directly at the audience. Perhaps it was Harrell’s direction that exposed the human beneath the performance. Would I ever watch a passerby on the street with the same intensity as a dancer on stage? Not usually. At times, I even looked away when a performer neared. But why?

    I also thought about freedom. The freedom of expression here—in fashion, in movement—was striking. The performers inhabited the atmospheres of the New York ballroom scene, club culture, lonely apartments, even the subway at 4:00 a.m., each in their own register.

    In the program, Debra Levine writes that Harrell wanted to create a work without a preconceived theme. That choice explains the stream-of-consciousness feel and the lack of narrative arc, and I’m grateful for it. It allowed me to recognize my own desire for story, for the hidden props to be used, for a message to land. But that’s not how life works. Life is messy, and art can remind us not to look away.

    Monkey Off My Back or The Cat’s Meow is showing at the Park Avenue Armory’s Wade Thompson Drill Hall through September 20, 2025. 

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    At the Park Avenue Armory, a Mondrian Becomes the Stage for Radical Expression

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    Caedra Scott-Flaherty

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  • Meet the Celebrities, Spies, and Billionaires Who Pulled Off an Elaborate Prisoner Swap With Putin

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    For all their collective power and influence, this ensemble had watched helplessly as previous deals collapsed. Political prisoners set to be traded had died inexplicably, or inched toward death, in Russian penal colonies. CIA officers had flown thousands of miles to remonstrate with Russian spies in hotel conference rooms in Central Europe and the Persian Gulf, booked under false names—only to fly home empty-handed. An Academy Award winner had traveled to Monaco for a ride in the white Rolls Royce of a Russian spy who claimed he could get a message to Putin. All told, two of the most powerful governments on Earth and their allies dedicated enormous energy and attention into haggling over a list of names that, as the jets neared their rendezvous, totaled just twenty-four prisoners and two children.

    Now, like the conductor of a symphony nearing a finale, the officer in the control tower was ordering the six jets to touch down in a perfect line just thirty meters apart. Silhouetted figures imprisoned in seven countries would step down to cross one another on the tarmac, a glimpse into an unseen struggle that had been playing out for more than a decade.

    At every step, the clandestine talks and backchannel interventions had been tracked by the two of us—Wall Street Journal reporters who had covered hostage crises across the world and now found ourselves trying to make sense of a crisis that had somehow reached our own newspaper. Just weeks before our colleague’s arrest, he had proposed we should together investigate the pattern of Americans mysteriously vanishing into Russian prisons: “It’s totally undercovered,” Evan said, before Putin lent his pitch a grimly ironic news hook.

    Left to investigate a game of “hostage diplomacy” ensnaring more Americans than their government could manage, we plunged into the murky terrain of prisoner talks, where rival governments barter over human lives. In his jail cell, Evan never stopped reporting, and he and the other American prisoners would soon tell their own stories. We wanted to show the flip side of the coin: the years of rolling negotiations it took to bring home one batch of Americans after the next. And we wanted to answer how exactly had America and Russia fallen into such a vicious and retaliatory cycle of snatching and trading each other’s citizens, which has somehow become a central tool of modern statecraft, a mechanism for nuclear powers to inflict pain on one another without tipping into war.

    We traveled the world to meet the intelligence chiefs, spy hunters, diplomats, and mediators wrapped up into this ruthless business. The contest they described went back much further than we realized, pitting an embattled democracy whose law still reaches further than any government’s on Earth against a revanchist autocracy playing by its own rules. And their fight was spilling far beyond Washington and Moscow onto a global battlefield, from the trenches of Ukraine to a hotel suite in Bangkok, an airstrip in the Maldives, and a suburban home in the Alps.

    The more we peered into this world, the more Russia stared back. We were followed through the streets of Vienna and Washington in acts of surveillance apparently designed to intimidate. Our emails and phones were bombarded with password-reset attempts, and the shared files on our cloud opened at hours when we were fast asleep. The Russian Foreign Ministry would later declare us personae non gratae.

    This is the story of a shadow war that few Americans understood was underway. In the fog of this new pirate world, a careful observer could glimpse a discomforting truth: To play this game of snatch-and-trade, America and its high-minded allies would have to ask themselves, how much were they willing to be like Russia?

    From the SWAP: A Secret History of the New Cold War by Drew Hinshaw and Joe Parkinson. Copyright © 2025 by Drew Hinshaw and Joe Parkinson. Published by Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Reprinted by permission.

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    Drew Hinshaw, Joe Parkinson

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  • Sabrina Carpenter Is the Best Frankenstein Reboot of the Year—(Please Please Please) Let Me Explain

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    At the Venice Film Festival earlier this month, Jacob Elordi was reportedly moved to tears by a standing ovation that lasted either 13 or 15 minutes, depending who you ask, after the world premiere of his latest film, Frankenstein. Elordi plays the creature at the center of director Guillermo del Toro’s take on the classic, and critics are all “forgiveness” this, and “artistry” that about the latest visual interpretation of Mary Shelley’s 1818 horror novel. However, the world has been overlooking the real-life reboot that’s been right under our noses, not to mention at the top of the Billboard 200 chart: Sabrina Carpenter and her latest album, Man’s Best Friend, released August 29.

    While Elordi is a natural pick to play the mix-and-match creature, with his six-foot-five frame and classically handsome face just begging for some monstrous prosthetics, the diminutive, perky, and often lingerie-clad Carpenter and her career are an apt stand-in for the misunderstood figure at the center of the story, painstakingly crafted only to be reviled by the maker. Shelley’s tale examines themes of bodily autonomy and patriarchal control, which easily transpose onto Carpenter’s image, in which she somehow manages to rotate through a wardrobe of vintage Victoria’s Secret teddies and lacy robes with sky-high heels. She’s not dressing for the male gaze. As she said in a 2024 interview with Time, she’s dressing for herself and empowering her fans to do the same. “Femininity is something that I’ve always embraced,” she told the magazine. “And if right now that means corsets and garter belts and fuzzy robes or whatever the fuck, then that’s what that means.” While a bustier and heels may be part of the Playboy Bunny uniform, when Carpenter dons the same look, it’s with a wink and the knowledge that her stiletto heels are a means of lifting her to the top of the world.

    Her career, like that of any other pop sensation, owes plenty to those who came before her: a dash of Dolly Parton’s big hair and commanding lyrics, a sprinkle of Britney Spears’s girl-next-door sexpot vibe, a heaping scoop of Taylor Swift’s collaborator-heavy, country-influenced discography, and more. Stir to combine and bake for 20 minutes. And voilà, you have yourself a Carpenter, a chart-topping amalgamation of the divas of yore, familiar yet novel. But just as Carpenter is celebrated for her absolute bangers, the same society that demanded a pop star exactly like her shrieks that she’s too provocative, a bad influence, sending our delicate young girls a bad message. Clutch your pearls, folks; a former Disney child star is singing about sex! It’s almost as if she…grew up? A concept. In “Tears,” a song off her new album, Carpenter sarcastically marvels at how hot it is when the male object of the narrator’s affection acts with basic human decency. “I get wet at the thought of you / Being a responsible guy / Treating me like you’re supposed to / Tears run down my thighs,” she sings. Similarly, the creature doesn’t understand why Frankenstein, who created him and tended to him, recoils in horror at what he’s done and runs from him. Carpenter in “My Man on Willpower”: “He used to be literally obsessed with me / I’m suddenly the least sought-after girl in the land.”

    In the book, the thoroughly alienated and rejected creature vows revenge and goes on a killing spree, eliminating those Frankenstein loves one by one. In “Goodbye” Carpenter sings, “Broke my heart on Saturday / Guess overnight your feelings changed / And I have cried so much I almost fainted / To show you just how much it hurts / I wish I had a gun or words.” Thankfully, she chooses words.

    Carpenter’s revenge on those who wrong her is bloodless but brutal; just listen to “Never Getting Laid” and imagine being on the receiving end of that, for one example: “Baby, I’m not angry / I love you just the same,” she sings, before continuing, “I just hope you get agoraphobia someday / And all your days are sunny from your windowpane / Wish you a lifetime full of happiness / And a forever of never getting laid.” Trapped inside by fear, watching everyone else have a nice time, and no sex? Withering.

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    Kase Wickman

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  • Sabrina Carpenter Pays Fashionable Homage to Cher, Britney Spears, Madonna, and Marilyn—In One Night

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    Sabrina Carpenter is the undisputed queen of vintage. Her musical epic, punctuated by her global hit “Espresso,” never ceases to embrace the codes of yesteryear, as in the case of her latest single, “Tears,” with its ’80s disco pop sounds, which she performed on stage at the VMAs 2025 last Sunday. For her performance, Carpenter first appeared on stage wearing a fringed top adorned with rhinestones and a matching miniskirt. But halfway through, the singer changed up her look. The new outfit? A diamond-spangled halter bra and black sequined mini-shorts. It was a more daring and sexy ensemble, not to mention a nod to a pop star from the 2000s: Britney Spears.

    Sabrina Carpenter on stage at the MTV Video Music Awards 2025 on September 7, 2025 in New York.

    Christopher Polk/Getty Images

    Christopher Polk/Getty Images

    In 2001, Spears wore a similar bra designed by Bob Mackie for a performance of “Baby One More Time” featured in an HBO documentary about her Dream Within a Dream Tour. Originally, the lingerie piece was designed for the Las Vegas revue Jubilee! in 1981. However, the bra sold at auction this year for $78,000 (over 66,200 euros); Sabrina Carpenter’s version being a replica, not the original.

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    Carpenter’s vintage fashion marathon and tribute—not only to Mackie but another foundational pop diva—continued outside the musical ceremony. And yes, you’d have thought that after winning three awards, including Album of the Year for Short n’ Sweet, the singer would be tuckered out, but no, far from it. Carpenter celebrated her victory at her own “Sabrina54” afterparty, and donned another look straight from Cher‘s archives for the occasion.

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    Olivia Batoul

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  • Inside PepsiCo’s Project Helping Local Restaurants | Entrepreneur

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    Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

    Restaurants are racing to go digital, and PepsiCo wants to help them get there.

    To the world, PepsiCo is a global brand known for bold flavors, iconic ads and entertainment partnerships. To restaurant owners, it is also a growth partner offering tools to strengthen their businesses.

    André Moraes, who leads global digital marketing for PepsiCo, explains how the multinational food and beverage corporation has been building a digital powerhouse for restaurant partners. “Restaurants are at the center of our lives,” Moraes tells Shawn Walchef of Restaurant Influencers. “If they succeed, the whole community does.”

    The initiative includes the Digital Lab, Menu Pro, Local Eats and Media Pro, all designed to make restaurants stronger in the digital age. “Everything that we offer to our customer partners is completely free,” Moraes adds.

    That commitment has already scaled in a big way. Through its Menu Pro program, PepsiCo has worked with more than 200,000 restaurants and optimized over one million menus worldwide. It can share insights from one market to another, giving local operators access to the same expertise that benefits national chains. The data collected from this global reach has helped restaurants improve ordering experiences and grow sales.

    The results, Moraes noted, are measurable.

    “We continue to see double-digit growth in overall digital sales for our restaurant partners,” he says. “Through it, we see growth in beverage sales as well, but it’s profitable growth, which is what we’re really excited about.”

    PepsiCo also makes sure the support is hands-on. Digital leads across the country work directly with restaurant operators, helping them improve their menus, adopt new tools and stay on top of changes.

    For many operators, it is the kind of one-on-one guidance they would not be able to afford on their own. Proprietary AI systems monitor menus continuously, ensuring items, prices and photos stay accurate across platforms.

    For Moraes, the outcome matters most. “Guests are ordering and going to our restaurants, [and they’re] excelling through the tools and services and partnerships that we’re offering,” he says. “We are truly coming through as the growth partner for our restaurant partners.”

    Related: People Line Up Down the Block to Try This Iconic NYC Pizza. Now, It Could Be Coming to Your City.

    Why local matters

    PepsiCo’s impact goes further than digital tools. The company is investing directly in local restaurants and the communities they anchor.

    That is where PepsiCo’s Local Eats program comes in. “Local Eats is our program specifically focused on local restaurants,” Moraes says. “If you’ve got one location to even upwards of 100 locations — but focused on local markets — we’re here for you through the Local Eats program.”

    Local Eats drives awareness, traffic and loyalty for independent and regional restaurants. The program invests in digital ads, out-of-home campaigns and even connects restaurants to PepsiCo’s national marketing. When PepsiCo shows food in ads, it often highlights a partner restaurant’s story.

    Inside the restaurant, PepsiCo provides branded assets to enhance the guest experience. Online, the company buys search and maps ads that put local restaurants at the top of results when hungry customers are deciding where to eat.

    The impact was on display at the National Restaurant Show with Russell’s Barbecue, a partner PepsiCo guided through a Local Eats transformation. “What you see here is a bit of the before and after, and you’ll see what their business looks like today,” Moraes says. The results included sharper branding, stronger digital traffic and more in-person visits.

    Related: He Went from Tech CEO to Dishwasher. Now, He’s Behind 320 Restaurants and $750 Million in Assets.

    “Local Eats is about reaching, converting and retaining guests for our partners,” Moraes says. “We want to make sure we are not just driving traffic, but helping restaurants keep customers coming back.”

    There is also a community element. Local Eats includes a digital and delivery community program, where operators join live courses with PepsiCo experts and peers to learn best practices and build long-term strategies together.

    Diners still want to eat out, connect and be part of a local scene. And for PepsiCo, success means being part of that journey. By investing in digital tools, marketing support and hands-on partnerships, the company is showing that it is not only a beverage brand but also a growth partner committed to helping restaurants thrive in their communities.

    Related: His Sushi Burger Got 50 Million Views — and Launched an Entire Business

    About Restaurant Influencers

    Restaurant Influencers is brought to you by Toast, the powerful restaurant point-of-sale and management system that helps restaurants improve operations, increase sales and create a better guest experience.

    Toast — Powering Successful Restaurants. Learn more about Toast.

    Related: Von Miller Learned About Chicken Farming in a College Class – And It Became the Inspiration for a Business That Counts Patrick Mahomes as an Investor

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    Shawn P. Walchef

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  • Jeremy O. Harris Is the Greatest Showman

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    Except nothing came of it. In 2022, The Daily Beast reported that Harris had been let go from the show “after having trouble meeting script deadlines.” HBO said Harris was “not fired from The Vanishing Half,” citing creative differences that were “part of the normal development process,” and called Harris “a valued collaborator.” He’s since worked with the network on a documentary about Slave Play called Slave Play. Not a Movie. A Play.

    Harris, who calls the The Daily Beast “a gossip rag,” stands by his work. He fondly remembers a staff research trip to New Orleans that he organized and blames the show’s fate on systemic issues at the network. (The Daily Beast did not respond to a request for comment.)

    “The reason the show didn’t happen is because the book was bought at a very specific time, in June of 2020,” Harris says. “HBO changed leadership within that time period. The Black woman who advocated for our show to be bought, and was our executive, left.” That woman, Kalia Booker King, departed to work for Sinners director Ryan Coogler’s production company, Proximity Media. But King’s departure wasn’t the only factor. “I don’t think that the pairing of our producers and me and Aziza as writers was necessarily fully a fit. I think that Issa Rae would’ve made an amazing version of the show in her own way. I don’t think she would’ve made the version that me and Aziza were making.” (Rae did not respond to Vanity Fair’s request for comment. HBO and King declined to comment.)

    Harris has been accused of caring more about his public persona than his written work. Several people I’ve spoken to—including a film and television actor and theater professionals—suggest he has been known to be unreliable, a natural consequence of being overcommitted and overextended. Harris’s talent, they agree, is undeniable. But there are concerns about his follow-through, according to these sources, none of whom were willing to go on the record for fear of alienating Harris, who has a penchant for responding publicly and ferociously to his critics. (See: Jesse Green, Young Jean Lee.) Fear of retaliation notwithstanding, a question hangs over this gifted writer’s head: Is he self-obsessed, or are people just obsessed with him?

    “He loves to take on more than he should,” says his former CAA agent, Ross Weiner, reflecting on the roughly eight years he spent representing Harris before he left the industry. “But it was always a good thing.” As of this story’s publication, Harris has no less than six projects in various states of development on IMDb Pro, including The Wives and the seemingly abandoned The Vanishing Half.

    Some past collaborators praise him even when the project doesn’t work out. Sydney Baloue, a writer on The Vanishing Half, calls Harris “the creative genius of our time” and said he had an “incredible” experience working on the show. “Jeremy is a brilliant writer,” says Allain. “He and Aziza put together an incredible room of writers who delivered several knockout scripts. Sadly, not everything in development gets made.”

    On December 15, 2024, Barnes died by suicide. “I was the person that had to call everyone from the writers room and tell them,” Harris remembers. “The thing that got me through was thinking about the fact that there are so many parties Aziza just didn’t want to be at. No matter how social I tried to ask them to be….” He takes a beat. “Life is sort of a party that none of us asked to be invited to. I don’t know that it’s my place to demand that someone stay, while also having a lot of sadness that they’re gone.”

    You’re going to go to this play with me now,” Harris commands as we finish our meal at Dimes. It’s called Trophy Boys, an off-Broadway production directed by Tony winner Danya Taymor and starring The Gilded Age’s Louisa Jacobson—another close friend of Harris’s from his Yale days. Though this wasn’t the plan, one doesn’t say no to Harris. I get the check.

    On the way, he rolls calls—putting out more theatrical fires while texting Gerber. There’s a controversial big-time producer who wants to see Prince Faggot. “I’m going to get him in tomorrow,” Harris tells one of his agents over the phone. “I have reached out to the man many times. I’m telling you right now: If this man loved me, if he was obsessed with me, if he needed me, he would call me every hour on the hour till I answer.”

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    Chris Murphy

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  • Is AI the Future of PR? | Entrepreneur

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    Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

    I was recently asked, “What trends should we be watching out for in terms of the future of PR?” Well, according to my 75-year-old mother — and lots of other interested observers — the future of PR looks like it’s populated with a little AI, some more AI … well, okay, entirely with AI.

    If you’re a business owner considering letting AI run your PR show for you, let me tell you why that’s a bad idea. Don’t get me wrong — I’m a fan myself; I’ve steadily been incorporating AI tools and tasks into my daily workflow, and I get the appeal. And the added efficiency.

    But as a two-decade veteran in this field, I also know a helluva lot more about PR than any bot you can call on, and here’s my take on where things stand now and where they look like they’re going in the marriage between PR and AI.

    AI is great in the passenger’s seat, not the driver’s

    AI makes for an incredible assistant. PR professionals can benefit from it tremendously in myriad areas, such as drafting initial press releases and pitches, creating data-based reports and analyzing audience/consumer preferences and trends. The time savings (and thus the concomitant cost-efficiency) are indisputable.

    But public relations, by definition, involves the “public” — a public that expects cultural awareness, responds to qualities like empathy and humor, and demands ethical accountability. Last I looked, AI doesn’t live by a moral code, it isn’t a sentient being personally sensitive to any specific cultural milieu, and it certainly isn’t the funniest guest at the party!

    So long as the “public” with which our industry deals turns to us for solid expertise, sound judgment and fair business practices, human intuition and integrity should steer the vehicle, not algorithms.

    Related: AI Is Changing Public Relations — Here’s How to Stay in Control

    The old-fashioned meetup is still a thing

    Remember when everyone thought books were going to die once Kindle hit the market? And yet reading is still a beloved pastime in America, with most readers still preferring printed books over ebooks, relishing the touch, feel, smell and experience of turning actual pages.

    The same applies to PR. Journalists love it when we pop into the office to bring them a coffee and have a chat. Media contacts readily accept our personal invites to restaurant openings or product launches. Influencers welcome the opportunity to come meet us at a new venue or promoted site and actively participate in our PR efforts.

    And when it comes to PR clients, they, too, appreciate sitting across the table from us face-to-face, where we can see each other’s expressions, read each other’s gestures, shake hands hello and hug goodbye in person. AI can’t replace eye contact and shared smiles, the authentic moments of connection that form client bonds.

    So long as “relations” remains part of our industry name, being in the same room with someone is always going to bring you closer than ChatGPT output. Which leads me to …

    Relationships will always trump datasets

    Cue up Streisand for this one: “People who need people …” As smart and spiffy as AI is, it is not and never will be a person. People build rapport. People establish credibility. People learn to trust one another. People interpret emotions and moods. And people can adapt on the spot when they sense the discomfort of clients, stakeholders or team members.

    I’m excited about implementing AI to help my firm with research, scheduling, campaign details and delivering up-to-the-minute insights about my clients’ customer base. But AI will never hold a meeting with one of my clients. It will never anticipate their needs, see their eyes light up when we come up with a brilliant plan or reassure them when an initiative doesn’t land as hoped.

    Idea generation, mapping out a project and determining custom-tailored campaign goals for a particular client are best left to the experts. Why? Because AI’s intelligence is artificial. Humans, on the other hand, possess EI — emotional intelligence.

    Related: Why Emotional Intelligence Is the Key to High-Impact Leadership

    AI is more prone to mistakes than people are

    Sounds improbable, right? How can machine learning be inferior to us flawed and fallible mortals? I’m not talking here about mistakes like typos or forgetting to order the banners for the fundraiser. I’m talking about the things that really matter in PR, like understanding societal nuances, interpersonal dynamics, behavioral psychology and actual lived experience.

    And when AI gets that wrong? The consequences can be serious for clients. Using no-longer-acceptable language. Producing content that could be offensive to certain populations. Providing out-of-context information. And, most notably for our purposes, communicating faulty messaging.

    In PR, marketing and advertising, messaging is everything. Humans can better spot potential pitfalls with language (even if it is absolutely technically correct) and can better discern the tone and subtext of customer engagement communication. So it’s great to use AI for media monitoring and sentiment analysis. But what to do with the results of those measures should remain in the hands of real-life pros who employ cognitive reasoning, not just logic; who shrewdly apply information, not just amass and analyze it; and who can make moral judgments when called for.

    SIDE NOTE here on crisis communications: Using AI to manage crises is a whole different topic unto itself. For now, suffice it to say: It’s a no-no. Keep out! When an individual’s or company’s reputation is at stake, coming across as tone-deaf can toll the death knell for their public image. And the generative AI tools we have available today (the type of AI content-focused industries like mine are using far more than agentic) definitely runs the risk of sounding too factual, too formulaic, too … well, inhuman, right when a human touch is needed most.

    Keep your eye on integrative PR

    So what do I think the wave of the future is? Integrative PR — an approach that blends all the various communication channels into a cohesive whole for consistent branding across all platforms, no longer separating different aspects of marketing and public relations into different compartments.

    Of course AI will play a significant role as we shift toward more social media–focused campaigns and more content curation taking the place of strictly media relations, which traditionally dominated PR. But the type of integration I envision requires creativity, first and foremost, coupled with inventive strategy and finding new connections where none existed before.

    Generative AI relies on anything and everything that has existed before, and precisely for that reason, I believe humans will remain the alchemists who bring humanity to PR. After all, PR is an art, not a science. And art is made by artists — original thinkers and doers, master storytellers, who will ever play the starring role on this always-changing, wildly interesting stage of public relations.

    I was recently asked, “What trends should we be watching out for in terms of the future of PR?” Well, according to my 75-year-old mother — and lots of other interested observers — the future of PR looks like it’s populated with a little AI, some more AI … well, okay, entirely with AI.

    If you’re a business owner considering letting AI run your PR show for you, let me tell you why that’s a bad idea. Don’t get me wrong — I’m a fan myself; I’ve steadily been incorporating AI tools and tasks into my daily workflow, and I get the appeal. And the added efficiency.

    But as a two-decade veteran in this field, I also know a helluva lot more about PR than any bot you can call on, and here’s my take on where things stand now and where they look like they’re going in the marriage between PR and AI.

    The rest of this article is locked.

    Join Entrepreneur+ today for access.

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    Emily Reynolds

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  • Between Paramount’s MTV Dream and the VMAs, Gen X Is Having a Moment

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    From Ricky Martin to Mariah Carey, Sunday’s annual music awards show made a case for the network’s pivotal role in the 20th century—and less of a case for its relevance in the 21st.

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    Erin Vanderhoof

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