Las Vegas has a long history and close ties with Hawaii, earning it the nickname of the "Ninth Island," thanks in large part to gaming patriarch Sam Boyd, who lived there in the 1930s, operated a bingo parlor, and became so enamored of the culture that he learned to play the ukulele and was fluent in the language. It was Sam's idea to carve a niche for the family's California Casino when it opened in the mid-'70s by marketing directly to islanders. As he put it to his son Bill, "In Hawaii, people get 'rock fever' very badly. It’s like being in prison, being on those islands for any long period of time. Plus, they’re all gamblers. All Hawaiians love to gamble, because on the island they have nothing else to do, no other way of entertaining themselves.'"
However, despite this established relationship with downtown, it was only in 2003 that any kind of "Island fever" spread to the Strip, when developers decided to build their version of Waikiki's International Market Place, located on a 2.4-acre site in front of Polo Towers. Sandwiched between what was then the Aladdin and what is still MGM Grand, the $140-million plan called for a climate-controlled outdoor setting featuring kiosks, retail stalls, restaurants, a faux banyan tree, a (super-cheesy) statue of Hawaiian King Kamehameha, and "free entertainment with a Polynesian flair."
However, less than a year after opening, the Marketplace was already in serious trouble, with many of its tenants having vacated and a number of lawsuits flying around, claiming that the developer had failed to deliver on a promise to block the Strip sidewalk and direct pedestrian traffic through the complex -- a plan that was quickly nixed by county planning authorities.
Still, somehow the center managed to turn its fortunes around sufficiently to survive and became known for its free entertainment offerings, including a team of singing and dancing Polynesian performers, an enchanted-forest show featuring animitronic birds and Hawaiian folktales, and a real bird show performed by the Birdman of Las Vegas and his exotic feathered menagerie. It was doubtless this free entertainment, formerly offered daily from 1-5 p.m. and 6-10 p.m., which helped sustain this confused attraction that bears little resemblance to the International Markeplace it was inspired by and offers even less that's remotely related to Hawaii. To quote some recent reviews on Yelp.com:
"When it first opened, I thought it was mediocre. However, there were a couple of pretty good restaurants (including a branch of Hamada), everything looked new, and I figured they would eventually populate the empty buildings with all sorts of neat stuff.
"It was not to be. Hamada closed, and nothing interesting ever opened. There are a number of lackluster booths selling lackluster goods and, as others have mentioned, nothing Hawaiian in sight. The best I can say for it is that they've improved the original walkways so that instead of being a major impediment to pedestrian traffic, it's only a minor impediment.
As to what became of the free entertainment, we can do nothing more than confirm that it is indeed a thing of the past. We called the administrative offices to pose your question and were told by a belligerent-sounding female that the free shows had ended sometime last summer. As to why we cannot say, since our efforts failed to coax an answer from her, but the strong impression we were left with was that the shows would not be returning. Whether this is an augur of things to come, we also cannot say, and hasten to add that we've been privy to no rumor, but with the quantity of brand-new retail competition about to be unleashed, courtesy of MGM Mirage's The Park (or whatever they decide to call it), the two-story mall coming to the Tropicana, and Bally's Grand Bazaar (which sounds like it will be a similar kiosk-oriented affair, just bigger and presumably somewhat more upscale), we wouldn't wager any of our hard-earned cash on its chances of survival.
