It’s been said that New York is a city of eight million stories. This is a godsend for Kareem Rahma, the comedian and co-producer behind “Subway Takes,” a quickie podcast series (most are ninety seconds) in which New Yorkers share—and defend—their most distinctive beliefs while riding the M.T.A. “There are so many idiosyncrasies that people have that only their friends know about,” Rahma said the other day, en route to a shoot. (Recent guests have argued that incels aren’t real, that gatekeeping is good, and that men should sit to pee.) He and his production partner, Andrew Kuo, dreamed up the show last year, after they noticed that their comedian friends were pitching podcasts so they’d have clips to post on Instagram. “I was, like, what if the clips were the podcast?” Rahma said. He also has a TikTok series, “Keep the Meter Running,” in which he asks cabbies to show him their favorite haunts. (Destinations have included a Muslim-owned Jewish deli and the casino near J.F.K.) “I just need a ferry show,” he said.
Rahma, who had on Army-green basketball shorts and a navy button-down, was driving from his apartment, in Bed-Stuy, to Williamsburg, where a handful of opiners—some friends, some friends of friends—would join him and his film crew on the L train. Since the podcast caught on, well-known personalities have begun appearing on it—Olivia Wilde, Charli XCX, a few Brooklyn Nets. But Rahma turns down the majority of publicists’ requests. “This show isn’t about ‘talent,’” he said. “It’s about the take.”
Rahma parked his Volvo outside the Lorimer Street station. He put on his hosting garb—a greenish suit jacket, from eBay—then headed into a café to corral his subjects and staff. Down on the platform, a call sheet was hastily sketched out. When a Canarsie-bound train arrived, Rahma and his first interviewee, the filmmaker Lance Oppenheim, boarded and squeezed onto a bench. Two cameramen sat opposite. Lapel mikes were fastened to MetroCards, which the talkers held in front of their faces. A trio of buskers passed by. “Perfect,” Rahma said. “Pure chaos.” Nearby, a man in a hoodie snoozed.
At Montrose Avenue, cameras rolled, and Oppenheim called for the abolition of texting. A few minutes later, Rahma’s next subject, an inked-up photographer in a sailor hat named Justin Belmondo, argued that people should stop patronizing bars and restaurants. Rahma objected, until Belmondo clarified: unless the restaurant’s staff gets health insurance.
“Oh, we’re fighting capitalism,” Rahma said, nodding behind wraparound shades.
“I wasn’t going to say the C-word,” Belmondo said.
Next, the comic Alec Flynn, in a Cranberries T-shirt, argued that men should be permitted to claim to be bisexual as casually as women do.
“You’re doing well in the Bible Belt, but they hate you in the Belt Belt.” Cartoon by Joe Dator Link copied
Rahma was unsure of his own stance here. “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” he said.
Up next: Zohran Mamdani, a thirty-two-year-old state assemblyman from Queens. “Eric Adams is a terrible mayor,” he said. Rahma agreed, with élan, as Mamdani expounded on problems with the city’s rent commission, vender licensing, and utilities. “This is so much more legit than mine,” Pooja Tripathi, a comedian awaiting her turn in the subway car, said. Rahma was enlightened. “I know he’s a bad mayor because I can see the state of the city—it’s a piece of sh*t,” he said. “But these specific things?”
At Atlantic Avenue, the crew switched trains to ride Manhattan-bound for the rest of the shoot. Back in the car, Tripathi explained why designer fashion is a scam. A rider in a “Simpsons” T-shirt saw the cameras and scampered away. A woman wearing a yellow construction vest snapped photos on her phone.
Next, John McDonagh, a taxi-driver in a “Veterans for Peace” T-shirt, took the hot seat. He applauded the rise in subway crime, thanking Mayor Adams for the boon to a hack’s bottom line. “This is New York,” he said. “Somebody’s gotta win, somebody’s gotta lose.” Farther down the bench, a long-haired man in a Yankees shirt removed an AirPod to hear the conversation, then shook his head.
The last opiner was Mario Bosco, a four-foot-ten comedian and native Brooklynite, who had on a white blazer accessorized with a blue pocket square. Straphangers leaned in to listen as Bosco called for saloons to be installed in subway cars and on platforms and pleaded for more in-car entertainers.
Rahma concurred. “We’re doing a freakin’ talk show!” he said. The onlookers laughed.♦
