Vegas Movies: Lucky You

Lucky You could have been one of the great Las Vegas movies, but for reasons that remain unclear, it's craps out.

Director Curtis Hanson is one of those rare filmmakers who really makes the city his films are set in a main character. In his best work, like 8 Mile, Wonder Boys, and the neo-noir masterpiece LA Confidential, Detroit, Pittsburgh, and 1950s Los Angeles come to vivid life. A Curtis Hanson film set in Las Vegas had endless potential, but Lucky You, the story of an irresponsible gambler who makes his living at the poker table dealing with daddy issues, fizzled both critically and commercially.

Since this is a Vegas-themed blog (and not a source for incisive film criticism), I won't bore you with a long review. The movie was a box office disaster, mostly because the studio released it with little to no fanfare. They must have known they had a stinker on their hands, as the chemistry between Eric Bana (who is for some reason always cast as a humorless brooder even though he was a comedian in Australia and he practically explodes off the screen with manic and angry charisma in Chopper, the movie that  brought him to Hollywood's attention) and naive cocktail waitress Drew Barrymore is non-existent, the story has been told 10,000 times before, and screen legend Robert Duval (playing Bana's gruff poker-legend father) seems to be completely checked out. More than anything, the movie just feels completely lifeless, as Hanson fails to capture the crazy kinetic flashy energy of modern day Sin City.

That failure, to me, is the greatest disappointment of the film. It would be hard for me to get excited about a poker movie under most circumstances, but Curtis Hanson telling the story of an up and down on his luck Vegas-based poker player sounded rich with potential. While Hanson is semi-successful at depicting life away from The Strip for Bana, who lives in a small unfurnished home he rarely visits, he does very little to make Las Vegas come alive in ways comparable to how he treated other great cities he's depicted in his films. Hanson clearly wanted to capture Vegas in an lived-in and accurate manner, shooting on location for every scene (save for the scenes in The Bellagio Poker Room, which are shot in a meticulously detailed recreation on a sound-stage designed to reflect what it look like before its mid-Aughts redesign, because for some reason the movie is a period piece that takes place in the ancient times of 2003, even though the film was released in 2007 after spending a year on the shelf).


In one memorable scene, Bana tries to borrow money from Robert Downey Jr. (bringing a welcome jolt of energy in a pre-Iron Man cameo that reminds you that he used to be an interesting character actor not so long ago) as a smooth-talking 1-900 number operator working multiple phone lines and conning callers out of their money by the minute as he plays the part of lawyer, board-certified psychologist, and contract-specialist, all from an empty casino bar. The brief scene is a glimpse at the unique Vegas movie that might have been, as is the sequence when Bana's Huck (I know, I know, that name, but in co-screenwriters Hanson and Eric Roth's defense, they named him after a real famous poker player) starts with a tiny bit of cash and spends the evening slowly "chipping up" until he's got thousands of dollars in winnings from unsuspecting gamblers in his pocket before losing it all in a risky bet (which illustrates his character flaw of playing poker too recklessly and living his life with his cards too close to his chest, or something out of screenwriting 101) is another glimmer of what could have been.

But too much of the movie feels one step removed from the heartbeat of the city, as Bana romances Barrymore on top of a parking lot or in empty casinos during times that they would be bustling with activity, even during the post recession downturn of the city. I don't know if it's a function of the fact that shooting in a city that's open and crowded 24/7 is nearly impossible, but Hanson's Vegas is devoid of people, color and energy, which is just wrong for a city that glows and flashes in blinding neon (with one light so bright it can be seen from friggin' space). Hanson also fails to explore some of the stranger and lesser known corners of Vegas, while the main characters are charmless, boring, and completely standard, as the Oscar nominated director misses a great opportunity to capture one of the most photographed cities in the world in new and exciting ways or to reveal the intricate quirks of the people who actually live there.


Perhaps it's a function of Hanson exploring a sadder, seedier, and less flashy side of the town than the vision that those "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" ads attempt to depict, but there's a dismal lack of energy to Lucky You that drains the city of life and color. It's a strange letdown for a filmmaker who captured the shimmering and seductive glow of 1950's Hollywood so perfectly in LA Confidential. Curtis Hanson is one of the most undervalued filmmakers working in Hollywood, and setting is usually as important to his films as anything else. The authentic sense of place he's captured in most of his films is comparable to the work of a master of the metropolitan such as Woody Allen, but for some curious reason, Curtis Hanson just wasn't able to capture the unique and bizarre buzz of Sin City.

How Morrissey Ruined Thanksgiving

This is going to be a sad tale. A tale sad enough to inspire a classically brooding yet witty Morrissey song.

The former frontman of The Smiths is basically my favorite human being, (or at least in the top three, along with Woody Allen, and, I dunno, Abraham Lincoln). He's one of those polarizing pop music figures who a lot of people hate or at least consider irrelevant since his legendary band split up, an opinion that renders the people who harbor it irrelevant in my mind.

One of the most witty lyricists to ever live, a larger than life icon who never got as famous with the mainstream as the size of his persona, a man critics like to paint into a corner for his depressive lyrics, an artist under-appreciated for his wit and originality, a celebrity who is cagey about his sexuality mostly because coming out of the closet would make him more normal and less of mysterious weirdo (who used to claim to be celibate and writes of romantic misery better than anyone), an interview subject second to none, a periodically controversial fire-starter, a celebrity legendarily unwilling to give up on decades old grudges, a musician passionately loyal to his current band, an advocate of animal rights, an over-sharer who is bluntly honest while never actually revealing himself, and pretty much a completely perfect human being, Morrissey is one of those people you either get or don't get, and if you don't get him, he doesn't really care.

And now Morrissey is performing in both LA and Las Vegas just as I'm leaving for The Bay Area for ther Thanksgiving holiday, then he heads up to Oakland right after I come back to LA. Is he punishing me for the obscene amounts of turkey meat I plan on gorging myself on over the traditional holiday meal? Is he once again waving off traditional American iconography with his strangely scheduled performances (America is not the world, afterall)? Or perhaps I'm just taking the entire thing too seriously and melodramatically?

As I'm faced with the choice between family and Morrissey, it's not as easy a decision as it should be if I were a slightly better person (in a way that would break my poor mother's heart). Yet I will, I must, make the right choice and drive up North to the Bay Area tomorrow, doing my best to stay ahead of the holiday traffic and try not to look back over my shoulder as I realize I'm missing Moz at his intimate Hollywood show.. for looking back will only turn me into a pillar of salt. Or cause a car accident on a two lane road where people often drive 100 MPH ("and if a double-decker bus/ crashes into us...").

To try and wrap this rambling post into something thematically coherent, I'm going to implore any readers who are in the Las Vegas metropolitan area this weekend to check out Morrissey's show at The Cosmpolitan (a resort with an aspirationaly artsy vibe that's it the perfect venue for the hyper literate, Oscar Wilde loving singer). If his setlists from recent European and early American tour shows are any indication, the singer is pulling out a whole lot of old Smiths classics he hasn't played in years (I Want the One I Can't Have! Still Ill! I Know it's Over!) and solo-years deep cuts (Speedway!!! Speedway!!! Speedway!!!) that will make for a perfect night out in Vegas, for casual and obsessive fans alike.

Just think of the seasoned crooner as a (probably) gay and (most definitely) British Sinatra and get yourself down to The Cosmo for what is sure to be Sin City's hipster event of the season.

Escape From Douchery, Part 9: Peppermill's Fireside Lounge

The Peppermill is an old-school Vegas restaurant that's still a local's favorite, serving up affordable yet tasty steaks, burgers, and other basics. But the real reason to visit the classic restaurant is to enjoy the cozy charms of Peppermill's Fireside Lounge, a great retro hang that mixes the kitschy with the romantic so perfectly that it's been described as one of America's ten best makeout bars by Nerve Magazine.

This off-Strip lounge has been open since the 70's, and features plush booths and mirrors all over the walls, and pink and purple lighting throughout. Try your best to score a seat around the sunken firepit to maximize the experience, and try not to oggle the waitresses in their tight black skirts slit to the thigh. Order your date one of the lounge's famously sweet and strong drinks and enjoy the mood.

On the venue's ancient (in web 2.0 terms) website, the owners describe the place as the first Vegas "ultra-lounge," and though it doesn't really resemble the slick corporate spots for imbibing overpriced beverages set to trendy beats that fill up every casino on The Strip, the place was a bit of trailblazer that's survived through four decades and has been featured in films both classy (Marty Scorsese's "Casino") and cheesy ("Showgirls).


I'll admit to spend a little time sipping on frou frou drinks and necking with my ex back in the day at the Fireside Lounge. The place is kinda cheesy, but in a way that's fun, and despite the kitsch-factor, or maybe because of it, it is kind of an intimate and sexy place. So if you really want to take part in a public makeout session in Vegas, skip the ultra lounges in the mega-resorts and head to the off Strip Peppermill's Fireside Lounge.  Something about the place is just perfect, especially if you dig on that old school Vegas vibe I love so much.

Will the Spirit of The Sahara Fade as it Transforms into a Hip Boutique?

The Sahara is dead; long live The SLS Las Vegas.

The Rat Pack era resort shuttered its doors for the last time earlier this year, selling off a ton of memorabilia in packed to the gills auctions, and now Vegas Chatter, one of my favorite Vegas-centric blogs, has been reporting on property owner Sam Nazarian's plans to renovate the property. The nightlife impresario (doesn't that seem like a made up job in a movie where he learns to love by the third act?), who runs twelve clubs in Los Angeles (including Hyde, Colony, and Industry... and yes, venue names like that do make my skin crawl) through his SBE hospitality group, has grand plans for the old-school Sahara property.

The outdated Sahara will become The SLS Las Vegas, a sister-property to the ultra chic boutique SLS Beverly Hills. The redesign of the resort will be spearheaded by "highly influential guy who designs stuff," Phillipe Starck (I know, I'm thinking the same thing about some of the names in this post, and no I didn't make them up... but this Starck-bro knows what he's doing. Check out his Wikipedia page), while two SBE meagclubs will open in the property. The NASCAR roller coaster in front of the property will be knocked down in favor of a sleek beer garden (okay, that's an idea I can get behind).

The economy makes it impossible it cost prohibitive for Nazarian to knock down the entire property, so it seems that The SLS Las Vegas will be built out of a renovated Sahara. The Beverly Hills property is about as modern as you can get, but if Nazarian and Starck are smart about integrating the classic Rat Pack vibe of the old resort into and sexy property, I actually have high hopes for the new resort.

Clearly, Nazarian is gunning for the affluent tastemaking party-goers who were the main demographic for the owners of The Cosmopolitan, but if the designers can smartly blend the old school into their modern and sleek design, they might create something truly unique and special... which they're going to need to do in order to get people to party on the North end of The Strip, which has become a dead zone once you get past The Wynn and Encore in recent years (as construction on new resorts has halted while Circus Circus... can't stop being Circus Circus).

I'm still sad that we lost another classic resort when Nazarian closed The Sahara a few months ago, but he has a chance to keep the spirit of the old-school yet admittedly run down resort alive if he's smart enough to meld together the classic and sexy new sensibilities into something that stands out from The Cosmpolitan, things could get very interesting on the North Strip when The SLS Las Vegas opens in 2014.

David Chang, Culinary Artistry, and the Problem of Chefs Selling Out in Las Vegas

Momfuku Ssam Bar in New York's East Village is a singularly unique and hip restaurant that has turned head chef David Chang into a culinary star. The pork-centric Korean/Japanese/French/Italian/whatever Chang and his crack staff can imagine menu is a constantly evolving wonder of deliciously indulgent and inventive tastes, all of it presented at prices far below that of similarly hot, celebrity chef driven restaurants. And instead of tasteful design and servers wearing suits, the restaurant is alive with energy, led by the enthusiasm of the tattooed and pierced, T-Shirt wearing staff that cooks and serves your food.

Also, there is a gloriously cheesy painting of John McEnroe in full 80s glory inexplicably hanging on the wall.

When I visited the red-hot restaurant on my New York adventure, I ate Chang's famous steamed buns filled with pork belly (which live up to the hype), jowl terrine (indulgent, wrong, and delicious), roasted lamb loin and belly topped with dripping egg yolk (soft and salty heaven), and the most gloriously delicious and utterly, totally different slices of carrot cake I've ever put in my mouth. It was one of the best meals of my life, with food that defies classification from one of the hottest and most exciting young minds to burst onto the culinary scene in years.

As if the amazing and outside the box food wasn't enough, Chang also has a hilariously unhinged public persona, as his media appearances are often peppered with F-Bombs, self deprecating rants, and tirades against overrated Food Network chefs and the entire celebrity chef culture in general (even though he is indeed a part of said culture).

With his restaurant's daringly inventive food and punk-rock cool mixed with his own high profile persona and "who gives a crap" bravado, a David Chang restaurant would fit in perfectly in Las Vegas. Though the chef has admitted that the idea of Las Vegas is intriguing to him, no official plans have gone forward for a Sin City link in the slowly yet surely expanding Momofuku line of restaurants (Momofuku restaurants are planned in Toronto and Sydney, so it's not as if the chef is averse to expanding his empire beyond his beloved New York City).

A Chang restaurant in Vegas would be a real win for the city, but it might be a matter of bad timing with the economy in the toilet. Investors might be nervous taking a chance on a chef who takes such outlandish risks with his food and has such a volatile personality, and it's probably a safer investment in the minds of many to open another Wolfgang Puck or Emeril Lagasse restaurant on The Strip instead. Just because you can score with discerning foodies in Manhattan's coolest neighborhood doesn't mean that success will translate with the tourists who frequent Vegas restaurants.

And it's also might be a question of personal integrity... can such an outspoken, punk rock-style chef open in Vegas without losing some of the street cred he's earned through his F-Bomb laced rants and provocative Tweets? Basically, I'm wondering if you can enter into the artifice of the Vegas restaurant scene and still remain an artist, or if you're automatically watering down your brand when you open amongst the glittering facades of The Strip?

Vegas is a hard town to remain true to one's vision, but since Vegas features restaurants from Hubert Keller, Michael Mina, Guy Savoy, and Chang hero Thomas Keller where the chefs have been able to control their visions and innovate even as they compete in a crowded marketplace, it is doable.

A Momofuku restaurant could fit in with the side of Vegas that the young and artsy have started to occupy, the people who attend First Friday events and drink at The Double Down. A hipster and foodie approved David Chang eatery could be a God-send to a place like The Cosmopolitan, so eager to prove that they're cutting edge and cool to the "curious class" demographic that they're desperately courting (a plan that's not working as the resort reported a big loss at the end of the last quarter). Whatever he decides, Chang has the kind of clout and media buzz at this point that he could open a restaurant in Vegas on his own terms. Hopefully one day soon Chang will unleash his wild culinary imagination on The Strip.

One can only imagine what his rants will be like after he spends some real quality time in Sin City.

Can The Book of Mormon Succeed in Las Vegas?

I just returned from New York, shocked to discover that the Manhattan skyline doesn't really feature a winding roller-coaster track, but still as enamored with the city that never sleeps as any young and artistically inclined Los Angelino usually feels after visiting a city that for some reason causes a major sense of inferiority in Southern Californians. And while I missed the medium-sized Earthquake that created a Twitter frenzy on the East Coast, New York was electrifying, a city that is unbelievably exciting, fast paced and easy to traverse without a car, with cool things to do on every corner at almost any time of the day. It also feels more like the traditional idea of a city-city than the strange urban sprawl that is LA.

Also, Billy Joel is from there... but maybe that's just important to me.

I'd go on about the awesomeness of my NY trip, from the incredible exhibits I saw at MOMA to the mouthwatering meal I had at David Chang's Momofuku Ssäm Bar to the super-chill hike I took along the brand new High Line Park, built on a decommissioned elevated train track. But this is a Las Vegas-centric blog, so I'll focus on something Vegas relevant... The Book of Mormon.

I'm not much of a musical theater guy. I don't hate the genre, but it's not my particular bag. South Park and Team America creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone, however, are musical guys. Their first feature was the little seen Troma-piece Cannibal! The Musical, South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut featured a brilliant collection of profane Broadway (and Disney) style musical numbers, and even their action movie satire starring marionettes, Team America featured villain Kim Jong-Il singing about how he's only evil because deep down in his heart he's so "Ronery." So it came as no surprise when it was announced a few years ago that Parker and Stone were teaming up with the writer of Avenue Q to create their own original Broadway musical.

What did come as a surprise were the rapturous reviews, the astounding number of Tony nominations and wins, and the fact that the show is sold out approximately until the end times. Being a very well connected internet personality (or just because I have a friend whose dad knows a guy), I was lucky enough to score tickets to the show during the week I was in New York (I would have been lucky to score tickets to the show during a week I wasn't in New York, though said tickets would have been less useful and purchased more for bragging rights than anything else).

I don't really need to go into an in depth review of the show... I'll just say that it's as profane, funny, wickedly satirical, surprisingly sweet, tuneful, and joyful as the reviews have indicated. Parts of the show left me gasping for air (because it was so funny, but also because scary looking ski-masked ushers walked through the theater and water-boarded audience members at random), and I've been listening to the soundtrack nonstop on Spotify (that's not strictly true... at the moment I'm listening to Steely Dan on Spotify, but still, I've listened to the soundtrack a lot).  The New York Times did a fine job explaining why The Book of Mormon is an absolute must-see in their hyperbolic (yet not so hyperbolic because the show deserved the heaps of praise it received) review. The question I want to explore in this blog post, dear readers, is if The Book of Mormon can thrive in its inevitable Las Vegas run where so many other shows of similar hype and hilarity have failed.

Comedic musicals Avenue Q, Spamalot, and The Producers all took similar paths to critical and box-office success as Book of Mormon in their initial Broadway runs, winning Tonys, receiving gushing reviews, and playing to sell-out crowds every night.  Yet the shows never found real solid footing when they landed in Las Vegas. Spamalot and The Producers (with David Hasselhoff and Tony Danza in key roles) lasted barely a year. The heavily promoted Avenue Q played for only nine months at The Wynn, unable to generate word of mouth due to tourist turnaround in Las Vegas.

So can The Book of Mormon succeed where these other comedic musicals have failed? Broadway style productions can breakthrough in Las Vegas, as evidenced by the three year and counting run of Jersey Boys at The Palazzo and the Vegas-ized Phantom at The Venetian, which has been holding steady for half a decade. The Lion King has done decent business in Mandalay Bay for two years, though it's scheduled to close at the end of the year. Will Book of Mormon be able to replicate the success of these Broadway hits or will it go the way of We Will Rock You (the Queen jukebox musical that took place in an oppressive corporate future where bland pop music is the only thing allowed on the radio and a hero rises by singing the songs of Freddy Mercury which came to him in a dream and was as awesomely ridiculous as it sounds)?

Book of Mormon, I think, has a good chance to actually survive the harsh Vegas climate of desert heat and less than hip tourist-filled audiences. While most young people don't go to Vegas to attend shows and are more commonly there to party, the musical created by the South Park bros may be tempting enough for them to get tickets. And even the least savvy midwestern tourists have heard of Book of Mormon, which is Broadway's biggest hit in years (and has gotten more media coverage than any show on Broadway in years outside of Spider-Man: Turn off the Dark, a flaming train wreck of a show complete with a ludicrously pretentious plot, actors falling from rafters, and singing super heroes, making it the focus of much less positive press), so a Vegas production will have a decent shot of succeeding. It's also a much less costly production to mount than most Broadway spectacles, so a Sin City version is probably a very good investment.

One of the big questions is how will the Mormon community react to the show? The musical is a profane story about two young Mormons on a mission to Uganda, and while it makes gleeful fun of some of the religion's stranger rituals and foundational stories, it ultimately is sweet-natured and makes an argument for belief (even in the craziest ideas) helping people in tough situations. The content is profane, but the show is ultimately something that Mormons could walk away from feeling good about. Las Vegas was originally founded by Mormons (a little known fact since it was eventually taken over by mobsters and turned into a gambling town nicknamed Sin City), and still has a significant Mormon population. The town is also close to the Utah border and about a half-day's drive from Salt Lake City, the center of the Mormon universe (and the focus of one of the funniest songs in the musical). Despite all of that, it's hard to imagine the Mormon population embracing the show, with content that is probably too edgy for most Mormons to get around and enjoy the generally positive message.

The proximity to so many Mormons could attract a few curious church-members who want to know what all the fuss is about, but the very, very blue show will probably be a bit much for them, just for the vulgarity of the content even if the message ultimately shouldn't offend them. Opening the show in Vegas could lead to protests (which only generates publicity and could help the show more than hurt it), though the opening of the original Broadway production was met with a statement from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints that read "the production may attempt to entertain audiences for an evening, but The Book of Mormon as a volume of scripture will change people’s lives forever by bringing them closer to Christ,” a reaction that implies the church has no interest in turning the show into a lighting rod of controversy. The church most likely won't advise their members to attend the show, but it doesn't seem like they'll encourage protests.

For the rest of us, Book of Mormon is a vulgar and hilarious night of theater, entertaining for those of us that don't really like musicals and apparently a miraculous throwback to the joys of the medium for those who do. It could easily succeed where other comedic shows have failed in Vegas as one of Broadway's hottest tickets in years, and the rude, crude, tuneful and good-natured show migh just fit right in and play in Sin City for years.

Escape From Douchery, Part 8: Ellis Island Casino and Brewery

Craft brews have become another major trend for the young, hip and with it, and I'm going to use that fact as yet another litmus test to figure out how Las Vegas is developing into a truly hipster friendly city (you are doubtlessly noticing a trend in these blog posts at this point).

Vegas is a city that is fueled by alcohol. When beer and liquor are flowing, the philosophy goes, people are loosened up and keep gambling. While Sin City has not quite caught up with every hipster trend (I haven't seen many artisanal, organic, fair trade cheese stores in Vegas... yet), the increasing popularity of good and interesting beers is right in the Vegas wheelhouse. Craft breweries that offer adventurous pours are out there, if you know where to look.

While cocktail waitresses slinging comped drinks on casino floors are unlikely to pour you anything more exciting than a Fat Tire (no knock on Fat Tire, they're still one of my favorite nationally distributed beers), there are definitely a few places where you can find tasty brews made and distributed in the city. Sin City Brewing Company makes beers with "cleverly themed" (read "appropriately douchey") names like "Weisse is Nice," "Never Pass Up a Blonde," "Say Hello to Amber," and "The Dark Side of Sin," with locations in The Miracle Mile Shops at Planet Hollywood, The Grand Canal Shoppes at The Venetian and a location at The Flamingo with a large outdoor patio for sipping on your suds. In  Downtown Vegas, check out The Chicago Brewing Company in The Four Queens for a good selection of craft brews along with brewery favorite foods like pizza and burgers, or The Triple 7 Restaurant and Microbrewery at Main Street Station, which has become such a draw that the resort now markets itself as a "Casino, Brewery, and Hotel."


But if you really want an authentic Vegas experience to go with your microbrews, Ellis Island Casino and Brewery is a favorite of local beer enthusiasts, with a great selection of microbrews, sold at a shockingly reasonable price of less than $2 a glass. While gambling at the smokey and old-school off-Strip casino, cocktail waitresses will comp you with free beers if you ask nicely. Their restaurant is extremely cheap (like $5 for Steak and Eggs in the morning cheap), and the food is surprisingly better than merely edible.

The Casino and Brewery is located slightly off the beaten path, about a block east of The Strip. It's not nearly as slick as a place like Aria or The Cosmopolitan, but that's probably why locals dig it so much. It's unpretentious, the betting minimums at the gaming tables are low, and it has a scuzzy sleaziness that feels authentic and lived in, an increasingly rare atmosphere in Las Vegas these days.


Ellis Island's beers include a nice Amber, a summery Hefeweissen, a pleasingly hefty Dark Lager, and a Light lager (which I didn't even bother with; if you're drinking beer, just admit that it's not gonna be good for you no matter what and skip the light crap). They also brew a delicious Root Beer, which took me back to childhood memories of sharing a root-beer float my first girlfriend in the local Soda Shop (memories that might be from an old movie, and not my own childhood, now that I think of it).

To be clear, Ellis Island's Beers didn't approach the mind-blowing flavor of a cold Pliny the Elder from The Cap 'N' Cork in Los Feliz, but they got the job done... and get it done for absurdly cheap. Ellis Island is certainly worth a detour from The Strip for cheap eats and even cheaper craft brews.