Vegas family center of strip club reality show on Playboy TV
September 27, 2009 - 9:00 pm
Adam Gentile is living his dream.
He runs his own strip club. He stars in a reality show about said strip club. And when he's running low on dancers, a new batch of girls gives their fully nude best for him and his business associates: his mom and dad.
Welcome to the world of "King of Clubs" (9 p.m. Fridays, Playboy TV).
The Gentiles got to know the producers of A&E's "Gene Simmons Family Jewels" when that show filmed an episode at the Gentiles' Palomino Club in North Las Vegas. "Apparently," Adam says, "they found us very entertaining."
That relationship soon led to "King of Clubs," which was conceived as mainstream fare in the tradition of the oft-naked antics of E!'s "The Girls Next Door."
"All the other TV channels did not want to take a chance on it," Adam says. "They're thinking, 'Oh my God, strip clubs, it's too risqué.' Which is bizarre to me considering the sheer amount of stuff they do show on their channels."
But "King of Clubs" found a home on Playboy TV -- which filmed "Show Us Your Wits," January's lap-dances-and-dunces game show, at the Palomino -- and the club's employees were able to let it all hang out. Literally.
Although take away the Palomino's blood-stained history -- Adam's father, Dominic Gentile, received the land beneath the club as his fee for defending the previous owner in a murder case -- and, obviously, all the hoohas strewn about, and it's just your average family business.
Adam bought the club from its previous, now-incarcerated, owner. He pays rent to his father, and his mother, Michelle, handles the books. It's an unusual relationship to be sure, made more so by the fact that neither parent wanted anything to do with the place.
As a prominent attorney, Dominic worried his partners and clients might object to his involvement in the club and tried to insulate himself from it. Yet he's starring in a national TV show set there, and he's frequently shown flirting with the dancers.
"Herein lies the dichotomy that is my father," says Adam, immediately distancing himself from other strip club owners by using the words "herein" and "dichotomy." "My father doesn't want to be part of it. He wants nothing to do with the club -- until there's a pretty girl involved. Then all of a sudden he's, 'Oh yeah, I'm the owner of the club.' "
And, yes, a strip club is the last place Michelle, Dominic's ex-wife, thought she'd find herself. "Oh, Lord. Yes," she says. "Absolutely."
Eventually, she says, all the nudity just faded into the background. "You're talking about just totally naked women flinging around. (But) it's just like a used car business. It could be anything. We pay absolutely no attention to it."
The same can be said for the series: After a while, you barely notice the nakedness. Except, of course, for the occasional scene that feels like you just stumbled into a gynecologist's office.
As entertaining as the Gentiles are, and they're naturals onscreen, the real drama comes from the dancers. One minute, they're being supportive, offering advice to 18-year-old newcomer Brooklyn and boosting her self-esteem. The next, they're losing their minds when Adam agrees to pay two dancers -- a reversal of the traditional model in which the girls pay the club a fee -- and gives them their own dressing room.
The fallout leads to two of the greatest words in the English language, words that should be shouted from the rooftops until they echo off the mountains: stripper fiiiiiiiight!
Paid dancers Miami and Vegas -- Really? Your stripper name in Vegas is Vegas? -- cause so much trouble, the girls end up screaming at each other onstage, during the Stripper Olympics no less. (Other special events featured in the series include a nude wedding and something called "Design a Vagina." The latter is far classier than it sounds, but, then, it almost would have to be.)
The conflict rears its head in another episode -- with backstage hair pulling and a dancer being thrown to the ground -- to the point that police are called.
No wonder the jovial Adam wears an exasperated look throughout most of the episodes -- running a strip club has never looked less fun.
"King of Clubs" makes it seem more like herding cats. Cats with massive egos, quick tempers and daddy issues.
And you know it's bad when even the presence of TV cameras does little to calm the dancers.
"I don't think the hand of God could subdue these girls," Adam says, laughing. "The truth is, as far as the nutsiness, as far as my beautiful little butterflies losing their minds, truth be told, I don't think anything could stop them."
The way he says it sounds more good-natured than condescending. Despite all the drama, he's clearly attached to the dancers.
"They're really a great bunch of girls," Michelle says. "They really are. ... But Adam's very, very nice. He shows more patience than most people. He's just very good at this."
Christopher Lawrence's Life on the Couch column appears on Sundays. E-mail him at clawrence@reviewjournal.com.
ELSEWHERE
Las Vegas-based dancers Afroborike compete for the $100,000 top prize on the finale of "Randy Jackson Presents America's Best Dance Crew" (9 p.m. today, MTV).