STATE OF THE CITY |
You Call 16 Times and What Do You Get? Thankfully, Conrad Malsom didn't take no for an answer last Tuesday as Metro's 911 and 311 operators passed him around, despite claims he'd seen Charles McCoy Jr., the main suspect in 24 shootings that terrorized Ohio motorists and left one woman dead.
Metro is reviewing dispatch procedures. Said review should include an evaluation of response times. It takes an average of 4.7 minutes for officers to arrive; we don't know if that's good or bad—spokescops insisted annual comparisons weren't available. In November, Metro will ask voters for a tax hike to hire more officers, closing the gap between Clark County's officer-per-resident ratio (1.6 per 1,000) and the national average (2.5 per). Oh, and maybe a little training in prompt phone service would help, too. |
The One-Minute Ride Critic: Borg Invasion 4D
Josh Bell just returned from boldly going to the Hilton's new Star Trek ride: Hey! It sprayed water on me! Also, it poked me in the back and blew wind in my face. Apparently, the "fourth dimension" of this new attraction at the Hilton's Star Trek Experience involves doing things that your little brother used to do to annoy you. The first three dimensions, viewed on a large screen through special glasses, are more impressive. Things fly out of the screen at you, and out-of-work former Star Trek: Voyager stars look life-size. At $29.95, it's not quite a deal, although a ride on the superior original attraction, Klingon Encounter, is included for a limited time. Beam us up.
You Mean Sandra Bullock Has Never Come to Your Apartment?
New resident David Batterson has a story to tell: Exactly one week after relocating to Las Vegas from California, actress Sandra Bullock was standing outside my apartment door at Casa de Warrern, two blocks from the Strip. Is everyone welcomed to Las Vegas this way?
Last Tuesday, two Hollywood-looking guys knocked on my door, and one presented a business card. He said they were from Warner Bros. and were scouting locations for Miss Congeniality 2, starring Ms. Bullock. Having worked as an extra in a few films (Raging Bull, Mass Appeal, Blues Brothers and Billy Jack Goes To Washington), I recognized the studio address as bona fide.
They took photos and gazed out my front door toward the Strip. Ken, the location manager, told me the scene involved Bullock's FBI character staking out the Strip, and they needed an apartment very close to Las Vegas Boulevard, with a great view. My place is just that: Just east of the Strip, it looks out to Bally's, Flamingo, Imperial Palace, The Venetian, Wynn Las Vegas and others.
The director and about 10 others came by the next day, including Bullock. She waited outside, and I didn't speak to or approach her. The director looked around, and then aimed his view finder at the Strip. It was over in about 10 minutes.
I was told that if they use the apartment when they film in April, I'll get paid a daily rate, plus get put up in a hotel. Ken said they'd probably remove all the furniture and redecorate the place. Fine by me, as long as the check clears.
Davey Was a Goliath
On March 2, we lost an invaluable contributor to the human heart and soul, even if many Las Vegans didn't know it.
Theater giant Davey Marlin-Jones—actor, playwright, producer, director, critic, drama professor, mentor and inspiration from the Kennedy Center to the New York Shakespeare Festival to UNLV's drama department and the stages of Las Vegas—died of cancer at age 71.
Much has been made of the relatively scant attention paid to live theater and "culture" at large in this town. Perhaps it's even been overdramatized, given the tendencies of those involved. But we can't overstate how this man enriched this city, even if we've yet to take full advantage of it.
Davey Marlin-Jones mattered. He mattered because he nurtured the oldest and most intimate form of drama in a city more focused on hedonism. He mattered because he brought an indefatigable enthusiasm that inspired others to follow his example. He mattered because he was a wellspring of beauty and artistry at a time when dollars and deals threaten to usurp everything in their path.
He was Davey against a raging Goliath.
Our Praise for a Wonderful New Movie Can't Be Bought with Nifty Home Appliances
The perils of modern journalism never cease here at the Weekly. The other day's mail brought a waffle-maker promoting Touchstone Picture's hilarious new comedy, The Ladykillers. You heard us right, a brand-new, shiny waffle-maker. As if we would have been able to stop ourselves from praising the Coen brothers' latest cinematic masterpiece, starring that lovable scalawag Tom Hanks.
Nonetheless, the waffle-maker—which might have even been hand-picked by America's funnyman Marlon Wayans, also starring in The Ladykillers—truly made us question our journalistic integrity. Why, if it weren't for the fact that we could justify it as a house-warming gift, we'd have been forced to return the waffle-maker, perhaps addressing the package to the mellifluous Ms. Irma P. Hall, that amazing actress (you listening, Oscar?) who bedevil's Hanks' character in the sure-to-be-blockbuster-hit, The Ladykillers, opening this Friday at a theater near you!
What? The Vegas Economy is Based on Sex? Eeew. Not in My Comfortable Suburban Delusion.
"The only other time we had a crowd like this was when Mike Tyson was here," said the receptionist outside the Nevada Gaming Commission meeting at the Grant Sawyer building last Thursday. She was surrounded by a horde of white women pushing SUV-sized strollers who had come to protest sexually suggestive billboards. Alas, there wasn't enough room for all of the hundred-plus group in the meeting room, and with their toddlers plopped in the hallway drawing hangman pictures, they soon became a fire hazard. Officers ushered them downstairs, where they had a quick pow-wow in the lobby to spout off about the dangers of lesbians and the First Amendment, share 8x10 glossies of hot billboards, gasp, and mug for the media before disbanding. Inside, the commissioners listened to select speakers and did nothing.