Spare. That’s the word I’d use to describe Crystals, which opened yesterday. Having been in a self-imposed cone of deafness, I wasn’t exposed to any of the opening-day press. Thus, I came to Crystals last night as a blank slate — which pretty well describes Crystals itself at this point.
It’s very spacious and airy, worlds away from the claustrophobia of Forum Shops. However, its design elevates form over function, as attested to by misdirection (the “Tram to Bellagio” signage actually led us to the Monte Carlo-bound monorail), dead space and an odd traffic flow that is wont to have you going in circles.
While slightly less than half of the retail space may be leased, far less than that is open. It’s very chi-chi and exclusive and, as of last night, very thinly patronized. It’s difficult to imagine why MGM Mirage opened Crystals when it did. The much-touted “treehouse” is well shy of completion, for instance, and other unfinished construction was exposed for all to see.
At least there are one or two nice free attractions (not including the Henry Moore sculpture just outside), such as the illuminated staircase, the giant ice phalluses and the glass-enclosed cyclones of water. Very Wizard of Oz, that. Otherwise it’s mostly a ginormous, ultra-expensive version of the Scotch Tape Store from Saturday Night Live.
About the only place where you could muster a crowd was the Eva Longoria/Todd English restaurant Beso. Since media-night buffets are almost never representative of the actual menu, I’ll just say that this one was much better than usual. That goes double for the finger-food platters which offered what I suspect to be actual Beso menu items, in which case the chow will be very good chez Longoria. However, the constant thwacka-thwacka-thwacka of “house” music makes it seem like you’re having dinner in a gay bar.
The upstairs club, Eve, can be summarized in six words: fugly lighting and fucking hip-hop. It’s for a different generation, obviously, although MGM CEO Jim Murren looked ready to get his groove thing on. (Also sighted discretely were a Marley Taylor-less Chris Phillips, Las Vegas Review-Journal fashionista Xasmin Garza, plus several very relieved-looking Greenspun Media Group staffers, clearly euphoric to have been spared in the recent corporate bloodbath. They had that “near-death experience” look.)
Judging by the number of young male couples strolling about, Crystals already has a head start toward being Vegas’ #1 gay hangout. If it achieves nothing else, CityCenter bids fair to become the Strip’s Ground Zero of gayness. Friends of Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.
At the other end of the Strip, literally and metaphorically, check out this enlightening — if very blurry — photo essay on Main Street Station. Something this charming and idiosyncratic couldn’t be recreated by all the consultants in Christendom. Boyd Gaming really lucked into a gem when it bought the place. (LVA members lurve its buffet.)
The Great Greenspun Massacre: In addition to exploring the nooks and crannies of Main Street Station, journalistic perpetual-motion machine Steve Friess has also been indefatigable in his coverage of Greenspun Media’s recent self-disembowelment, dubbed “Black Tuesday.” Since R-J Publisher Sherman Frederick finds it easier and more profitable to put out a mediocre newspaper than a good once, with GMG falling apart like a tarpaper shack, there’s no reason to believe that the Dogpatch Daily (journalism’s answer to the French civil service) won’t remain third rate or possibly aim for fourth-rateness. (You can do it, Sherm!)
Which is not to let Brian Greenspun off the hook, even if he’s already sealed a reputation as the man who unraveled almost everything that legendary father Hank Greenspun built. S&G has crossed paths (and sometimes swords) with many of Greenspun’s casualties and this is a very dark week for journalism in Nevada. For instance, GMG retained the Las Vegas Weekly‘s four-person “Team Hangover” and continues to syndicate the sycophantic blather of Robin Leach, but could not find room in its budget for, in no particular order …
Really? Hip hop? That would quality as a tad unusual on the Strip, which prefers the UNTS UNTS UNTS UNTS UNTS of electronica. Poetry was evicted by Caesars and was at the time thought of as the only nightclub with a rap clientele in a major resort property.
It’s a setting for neither you (too old-fashioned, I wager) nor me (too quiet and anti-social), but I just thought I’d point out that they have a niche there if it’s really a hip-hop club. Time will tell if they want to keep it, given that urban clubs in such a guarded setting tends to result in jumpy, nervous security teams who respond to every incident as though the cage was robbed.
I like the Main Street Station, too. In addition to the decor, the people who work there are always polite and cooperative – as are the folks “across the bridge” at the California.
[Disclaimer: I’m just a patron who appreciates good service – even if I’m staying free on slot club points.]
Yup, if Bill B. hadn’t torn the Stardust down it’d be throwing off free cash flow and pulling in those $70/night guests that Phil Ruffin disdains. I can’t imagine anybody *doesn’t* think that was a big mistake. With the locals sector sucking wind, Boyd could really use that Strip business right now.
That’s an odd comment about Crystals becoming the #1 gay hangout. How can you reach that conclusion when Crystals just opened and CityCenter isn’t fully functional yet? Gay or straight, people want to check out the new attractions in town. As for me, I’d rather have a beer at Charlie’s or the Buffalo.
It’s a shame that Jeff Simpson lost his job. He is a very good journalist but in the last couple of years or so I think he was an Executive Editor at In Business Las Vegas instead of being a journalist. Hopefully the Las Vegas Review Journal will hire him to be a gaming writer. He also did a very good job with the Vegas Gang. Good luck Mr. Simpson.
The newspaper business has to find a way to make money. I know The Wall Street Journal and Financial Times charge people to read their content. Most of the other newspapers don’t so that’s why all these good journalists are losing their jobs throughout the United States. Newspapers can’t make any money (obviously) if they give away their product for free.