Plaza & Riviera: Cheap new wine in old bottles

It’s an index of the desperation of local media to have something — anything — new to cover on the casino front that the slightest murmur from the Plaza was guaranteed to generate coverage. Plaza PR peeps did a masterful job of dribbling out bits and pieces of advance info, resulting in a steady stream of eager stories (including five Review-Journal pieces in the last seven days alone). The Sept. 1 opening having come and gone, what’s the local verdict?

After some prevarication, Tamares Group brass decided to proceed with a soft opening. Bad idea. It was the squishiest since the Venetian fiasco of 1999, if not a “Splat!” on so grand a scale. Hunter Hillegas chronicled the failings of execution in a withering series of Tweets. Among other problems (many other problems), it’s clear from Hillegas’ report that $35 million wasn’t enough to adequately remake the Plaza. Deep-pocketed Tamares opted for half-measures, a calculation that threatens to backfire. The ex-Fontainebleau furniture looks spiffy, even if it’s rather oddly juxtaposed with the old-school layout of the hotel rooms — a built-in handicap for which it would unfair to criticize Tamares.

He also found the hotel-casino suffering from an identity crisis that one wouldn’t expect with industry veteran Anthony Santo at the rudder. Ditto the inexperienced staff, 62% of whom are newbies. With unemployment rampant in Las Vegas, it’s inconceivable that Santo couldn’t find higher-caliber personnel. What Hunter encountered was what industry pros call “a break-in joint.” Yeah, Anthony Cools “believes in it” … because Alex Yemenidjian kicked his ass out of the Trop. The Plaza’s not exactly an upward move for Mr. Cools either.

The Plaza can compete on price and the fact they now have significantly less urine in their carpet but that’s not going to be enough,” Hillegas concludes. However, the overall tenor of his report leaves me bracing for the worst (i.e., Chapter 11). Visitor Ted Newkirk describes opening night as “business as usual.” Uh-oh. Tamares didn’t even spring for an opening-night media event. I had business elsewhere that evening but there are many other columnists, TV shows and bloggers who could — and would — have made hay from just a teensy bit of privileged access.

On the other hand, the frequently severe Chuck Monster (whose wrath has memorably been visited upon The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas) was more good humored. His best line: “Toiletries are the Malibu Barbie version of the Leatherwood Collection.” Both he and Hillegas love the new look and layout on the casino floor, which Mr. Monster finds less antiseptic than that of the Tropicana. Another common thread is that, once you get past the casino floor, more and more sins of omission are discovered. An accumulation of small gripes like these can snowball into a real image problem. Fortunately for Tamares, the Plaza has low expectations working for it. It declined so dramatically under Tamares’ manager-of-the-month stewardship that even mild improvements will look like quantum leaps.

If $35 million wasn’t sufficient at the Plaza, where does that leave the $20 million that Barry Sternlicht is loaning — loaning, mind you — the Riviera? Changes are already afoot. Small retailers have been swept out and the casino floor is experiencing the kind of work-in-progress makeover familiar from the Trop. One gets the sense that General Manager Bobby Ray Harris and his crew haven’t figured out yet how to make certain spaces work. Their biggest obstacle, however, is that the Riv looks so old and so moribund that $20 million seems desperately inadequate to put things even half right. When there’s a long line at check-in, it feels all too much like a bus station with slots.

Queen Victoria’s British Pub, a carryover from the previous regime, is incredibly blah: a poor man’s Crown & Anchor, but pricier, with a typo-ridden menu, poky service and strangely chosen mood music. It’s as British as as a bottle of Old Spice aftershave. My wife and I played in the new bingo room on its opening night. It’s just off the back entrance, close to the parking garage, in what’s clearly meant to be a convenience for locals. The area is a smudgy, converted slot floor, complete with catwalks and eye-in-the-sky camera domes. The staff is surprisingly inexperienced, too. You wouldn’t think these are jobs the Riv would have a hard time filling with skilled personnel, considering the market.

Now I confess that the idea of a “high hold percentage” in bingo had never occurred to me but the cards used at the Riv are randomized in such a way that there was rarely more than one winner per game, sometimes two — never three. On the plus side, this means the lucky winner(s) take home real money, not just a few dozen bucks here and there. Also, the games themselves last longer, which amps up the suspense quite a bit. For a brand-new offering, the bingo room drew surprisingly well on its first night. Codgers with limited entertainment budgets, like myself, should find it an appealing option — and non-smokers get the best seats. Consider it a step in the right direction.

This entry was posted in Alex Yemenidjian, Architecture, Cosmopolitan, Current, Dining, Downtown, Entertainment, Fontainebleau, Riviera, Sheldon Adelson, Tamares Group, The Strip, Tourism, Tropicana Entertainment, TV. Bookmark the permalink.