Las Vegas aspires to reinvent itself as a showbiz citadel rather than just a gaming mecca by mobilizing Celine Dion-style extravaganzas.
OK, I know there are lots of Celine Dion jokes making the rounds. I realize her name doesn't exactly resonate like Elvis or even Eminem among the music cognoscenti.
But the Celine premiere last week was fascinating as an exercise in pure mega-marketing. What it was all about was simply this: Las Vegas knows it has to re-invent itself, and that's no small order.
It's one thing for a toothpaste to renovate its brand, but can a city? Bugsy Siegel's city?
Apart from the war, the recession and other temporary setbacks, Vegas' problem is more basic: Every Native American within the continental United States seems to be opening his own casino. And why not? They don't have to worry about government regulation. They don't pay taxes or cope with zoning. It's the ultimate revenge of the under-class.
And the net result is that since virtually everyone in America can drive to an Indian casino or a riverboat, who needs Las Vegas? When you can blow your savings close to home, why bother getting on a plane?
That's why I admire the gutsiness of the soldiers of Caesars Palace, which is part of a conglomerate called Park Place Entertainment. They decided to write the big checks, building a $95 million cathedral for Celine and securing for her a $100 million commitment to perform 40 weeks a year. They understand Vegas needs a new "sell," and it's called showbiz.
So last week there was Celine floating 50 feet across the top of her new "colosseum" (her band also did some floating), and all across the famously garish Strip Vegas oldtimers were hoping their economy could float above the global recession thanks to this new infusion of glitz.
Vegas has tried before, to be sure. Kirk Kerkorian's wise men decided a decade ago to build a Disneyland-style theme park so that Vegas could re-brand itself as a family destination. No one came; indeed the faux Disney characters virtually died of loneliness.
The older casino mavens have tried to amp up their showbiz offerings, nervously mindful of the fact that Wayne Newton, Don Rickles and Danny Gans weren't going to energize a new generation of big spenders. Nor would the Folies Bergere, which has been running at the Tropicana since 1959, or Jubilee, which has been the mainstay of Bally's since 1981.
Vegas' demographics were starting to get scary. The blue-haired ladies were even getting bored cranking their slots and the convention business was thinning out.
So now dawns the era of Celine, the queenly Quebecoise.
At age 35, she's the prototypical Vegas star. Her fan base defies demographic typing. She's sold 150 million albums worldwide. She's contemporary, but family-friendly. She's attractive, but bland.
"She'll bring us a million people a year," says Mark Juliano, the sharp former teacher who now reigns as president of Caesars Palace and who realizes that every visitor to Celine will also drop by his casino and his lavish shopping mall and his restaurants and bars.
And the show? Well, if Hollywood has turned to "event movies," why shouldn't Vegas turn to "event entertainment," and who better to direct it than Franco Dragone, the former Cirque du Soleil guru?
The Dragone stamp is there -- it's all extravagantly theatrical and metaphysically confusing. As with all Cirque shows, no one can define precisely what it's all about, or what it's telling us, but it works, just as it worked for "O," which is still selling out at the Bellagio.
And others are rushing to emulate it.
The free-wheeling Steve Wynn of Mirage Resorts plans to open Le Reve on the site of the Desert Inn and has even swiped the ubiquitous Dragone to stage three different mega-shows. And others, as well, are rushing to corral Hollywood stars and latch onto a slice of the celebrity culture.
Will Vegas succeed at its re-invention? I hope so, but I also vividly recall attending the fabled Barbra Streisand opening at the "all new" MGM Grand a decade ago. The hotel wasn't yet ready for primetime and wouldn't have been very inviting even if it had been. Streisand understandably sprinkled her act with comments about "no hot water" and "no room service" and pointed out that "if I wanted to stay in a tenement, I could have gone home to New York."
But then MGM hadn't built Barbra her own Celine-style "colloseum." She had nothing to float over and the MGM Grand didn't float.
I think Caesars will do a lot better.
Contact Peter Bart at
peter.bart@variety.com