Time Out reviews Superdive this week.
Let's see what they have to say:
Rowdy frat bars don’t usually pique our interest. But Superdive so perfectly replicates the Alpha Beta experience that, fine, we’ll do a reluctant keg stand. But just one.
It’s like a fictional frat house, with a lack of decor so striking — a couple of couches, a long ugly bar, a few tables hosting beer pong — it could’ve been achieved only by drunk dudes who slept through the campus-center poster sale. The crowd appears to have stumbled out of an Abercrombie catalog and on most nights packs the place full. In fact, on weekends you’ll want a reservation — an absurd requirement for a place that postures as the ultimate dive bar.
Like it or not, Superdive’s management has achieved what they presumably set out to do: bring pledge week debauchery to a Manhattan bar. A bartender summed it up best: “If someone pukes, we probably won’t kick them out.” We’re intrigued and horrified at the same time.