Big names, shows give casinos identity

A half-hour after the Monte Carlo fire broke out, "Entertainment Tonight" called Lance Burton's publicist, wanting to interview him.

They weren't the only ones. Wayne Bernath says a flood of media requests, including from the Review-Journal, kept his phone ringing that day.

Burton declined them all, and still wasn't talking last week as he waited with everyone else to hear when the casino would reopen.

"If he would have done a couple (of interviews), the requests would have doubled. He would have spent four days talking about the fire," Bernath says.

And what would the magician have talked about? The fact that he was just waking up miles away, at home in Henderson, when the fire broke out? Any tourist forced to evacuate a Monte Carlo hotel room had a more compelling story.

But all this reminds us of a simple lesson now sometimes forgotten: Entertainment gives a casino an identity.

They knew this in the classic era of Vegas, when "theming" went no further than an evocative name and wonderfully matched neon. The star's or show's name, shouting in big marquee letters, stirred the real interest.

In the 2000s, we've seen more of a component approach to casino marketing. That's not all bad. It will be fine to see Criss Angel at Luxor without the bellhops having to dress like him.

On the other hand, if "Legends in Concert" was the best thing going for the faded Imperial Palace, what was the harm in running with that and having dealers dress up like Cher or the Blues Brothers? Nothing, I suppose, unless you are the dealer.

The modern Strip began with The Mirage. Siegfried & Roy were heavily branded to the casino's theme and design, which borrowed from the look of their "jungle palace" abode.

Since then, the Strip hasn't seen much of that synergy. Sometimes it takes a few shows before one sticks. Luxor opened with the Egyptian-themed "Winds of the Gods" revue, but people better remember the Blue Man Group.

Burton and the Monte Carlo were a happy accident.

In 1996, Burton made an impressive jump from the old Hacienda to a theater built out to his specifications. Back then, the Monte Carlo's low-key theme seemed a comedown, compared to New York-New York's pinnacle of Disney-type set design a few months later. Now it seems prescient of new-resort thinking.

Burton's face has smiled down from the Monte Carlo sign ever since, as he hones in on 12 years come June. Only his alma mater, the Tropicana's "Folies Bergere," and Bally's "Jubilee" so closely marry a show to a property's recognition level.

Just don't call him when a fire breaks out.

Mike Weatherford's entertainment column appears Thursdays and Sundays. Contact him at 383-0288 or e-mail him at mweatherford@reviewjournal.com.