A stylish satire set in pandemic New York City that pokes at capitalism, creativity, loneliness and love all against the background of a frantic modern moment.
Maya is a young freelancer helping to stage ultra-luxury apartments in Manhattan. She’s mastered having a great attitude despite being kind of a mess. She’s good at her job but what she really wants is to be an artist, even if, let’s admit it, her art is making puppets - not that there’s anything wrong with that.
When the Covid lockdown hits, Maya flees her crummy flat in Queens and stows away in a conveniently vacant, brand new super-high rise penthouse, the kind built for oligarchs and billionaires. From her gilded, if empty, perch she recovers from the events of the run up to quarantine: a string of humiliations at work, frustrations with her “ex-with benefits,” her fraught relationship with her sister, as well as several man-children with whom she’s either flirted or slept with on one or two occasions. One after another of these characters seek refuge at the penthouse with Maya, forcing her to finally stake out a territory to call her own. She emerges as the summer of social justice protests captivates the world. Maybe in the grand scheme of things she’s not so messed up after all. (Who are we kidding, of course she is.)
