EVENT
BASH IN THE BONEYARD
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[ UPCOMING ]
Nov. 7-10 World Food Championships at Fremont Street Experience (WorldFoodChampionships.com) Nov. 9 UHC’s Honor Ride to benefit Project HERO (Ride2Recovery.com)
PHOTOS BY BOBBY JAMEIDAR
October 31–November 6, 2013
Signs from Las Vegas’ past were brought back to life as the Neon Museum celebrated its one-year anniversary with a Halloween-themed party on Oct. 25. About 300 guests gathered for the Boneyard Bash, including Jonathan Seti, the makeup artist for AMC’s The Walking Dead, who transformed faces for the ghoulish occasion. An all-local lineup of musicians including the All-Togethers and The Phat Pack provided spooky tunes while magician Murray Sawchuck (pictured right) emceed the festivities. And because there couldn’t be tricks without a treat, a portion of the party’s proceeds will be donated back to the Neon Museum.
t’s conventional wisdom in college basketball that a coach really makes his mark in his third year with a program. You get two years to assemble your coaching staff, recruit your own players and install your system, and then it’s time to show results on the court. In other words, if you’ve got what it takes to build and maintain an elite program, the signs are usually clear by the end Rebels practices at UNLV’s Mendenhall Center have been no-nonsense affairs, heavy on toughness and—yes—running.
of your third year on the job. The third year is go-time, and the list of guys who have made the leap from pretender to contender in Year Three reads like the lineup at God’s coaching clinic: Jim Valvano won an NCAA championship in his third year at North Carolina State. In Rick Pitino’s third year at Kentucky, the Wildcats went from not appearing in the tournament the year before to playing in the Elite 8. Michigan State went from not qualifying for the tourney in Tom Izzo’s second year to playing in the Sweet 16 in his third season at the helm. Roy Williams took Kansas to the title game in his third year in Lawrence.
October 31–November 6, 2013
Billy Donovon brought Florida to the Sweet 16 in his third year.
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And, more recently, John Calipari won a national title in 2012 in his third year at Kentucky. It’s not a hard-and-fast rule, and some situations have to be taken on a case-by-case basis—it took John Wooden 16 years to win his frst national title; Jerry Tarkanian led the Rebels to the Final Four in his fourth season—but the third year has become a sort of midterm exam for college basketball coaches. Which brings us to Dave Rice, who is in his third year
as head coach of the UNLV Runnin’ Rebels. In two largely successful seasons he’s led the Rebels to 51 victories, two trips to the NCAA tournament and some memorable moments along the way (UNLV’s win over No. 1 North Carolina at the Orleans Arena in 2011 was one for the ages). But the team has come up short in two crucial aspects: NCAA tournament success has eluded Rice (he’s 0-for-2 in the Big Dance), and he’s also been unable to get the Rebels to play his preferred up-tempo style consistently. But now that Rice is working with a roster almost entirely of his own construction— only backup center Carlos Lopez-Sosa and likely redshirt Dantley Walker were recruited by previous coach Lon Kruger—Rice is dealing from a deck stacked with “his guys.” “We feel like we have a group that can play up-tempo basketball,” Rice says. “We feel like we have a group that we can press on made baskets and dead balls, and push the tempo.” It’s the deepest squad Rice has had at UNLV. Returning—and expected to lead the team—are center Khem Birch (the reigning Mountain West Conference Defensive Player of the Year) and shooting guard Bryce Dejean-Jones (10.3 points per game last season). And they’re joined by a
slew of long, athletic newcomers who should allow Rice to play as fast as he wants to play. Swingman Jelan Kendrick and point guard Deville Smith, both junior college transfers, should bring length, speed and creativity to the starting lineup. And rangy forward Roscoe Smith, eligible after sitting out last year as a transfer from Connecticut (where he won a national title in 2011) is a two-way grinder who gives Rice ideal lineup fexibility. Picture this sequence: The Rebels are playing a pressure half-court defense, and Roscoe Smith harasses a shooter into a missed jumper. Birch rebounds and throws a quick outlet to Deville Smith. Smith pushes the ball quickly toward half court, scans the foor and hits Kendrick in the open foor. Kendrick weaves through the lane, draws the
defense, then kicks it out to Dejean-Jones, who is trailing and hits an open 3-pointer. But the Rebels aren’t done. As the opposing team tries to inbound the ball, Birch faceguards the man taking it out. His angle cut off, the inbounder’s only option is to throw a pass to a teammate in the corner, where Roscoe Smith and Deville Smith quickly converge to trap the ball. The opponent picks up his dribble, pivots and tries to heave a pass forward over his shoulder. Roscoe Smith uses his long arms to tip the pass, and it’s picked off near half court by Kendrick. He throws it forward to Dejean-Jones, who tosses up an alley-oop for Birch to fnish. The entire sequence takes less than 15 seconds. That’s the ideal style Rice wants the Rebels to play. It’s an
exciting, crowd-pleasing system, and one that can be very effective—Pitino employed a similar pressure defense to lead Louisville to the NCAA title last season. More importantly to Las Vegas fans, it’s also the type of system utilized by Tarkanian during the Rebels’ glory years. Rice played under Tarkanian (as did current assistant Stacey Augmon), and Tark’s coaching DNA is evident in Rice’s approach. The up-tempo system is also demanding to teach and diffcult to execute. So even as the UNLV public relations team told fans the Rebels were ready to run during Rice’s frst two years, the truth is those teams weren’t built to play that game. Now they are. If anyone understands the intricacies of Rice’s system and coaching philosophies, it’s his brother, Grant Rice,
NIGHTLIFE
Get on the Bus
Life and living on the road with a celebrity DJ
October 31–November 6, 2013
By Sarah Gianetto
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WHEN I WAS asked to be the tour blogger for Markus Schulz’s Scream bus tour this past spring, I was skeptical. I had been on a private jet with him once, and I had seen him play about a million gigs. I “grew up” with him in the Arizona scene, where he got his start in electronic dance music, but was at a distance when he blew up on the other side of the country and abroad. Nevertheless, our history was what enabled my position on his star coach, visiting 17 U.S. cities in support of his artist album with two (later, three) busses bringing a full stage production, tour manager, stage manager, stage techs, visuals people, documentarians, merchandising and other artists. I envisioned hardships akin to camping and drama akin to The Jerry Springer Show, in addition to a world of spoils in which only mega DJs and rock stars live. (And indeed, I once did throw my shoes in response to a fght sparked
by groupies.) Entrusted with writing about the headliner’s more intimate moments, while staying within the confnes of a thorough confdentiality clause, “living the dream” also brought along some unanticipated nightmares related to toilets, the use of both hands, sleep, a sense of time and turbulence. By design, DJs are more spoiled than rock stars, because the most they have to do is pack up their USB drive, hop on a plane, be escorted to their stage, play (mostly) other people’s music, then call it a night in their hotel room before hopping on the next plane. Markus decided to merge the rock-star life with EDM life by bringing a festivalstyle atmosphere to markets that typically don’t see it. Markus slept on the bus while it was driving from city to city—like we all did—but had a full bedroom, shower and bathroom in the back, while everyone else slept in bunks, most of which came complete with TVs and DVD
players. We rode a fne line between luxury and torture, as this brand-new, lightweight bus felt like the equivalent of attempting to sleep in a vibrator, and if I was dealing with insomnia and trying not to tumble several feet down into the hallway every night, Markus, in the bed at the back of the bus, was being thrown around even more so. Upon arrival in each city, Markus directed the crew during setup and then typically disappeared to a hotel room until it was time for his meetand-greet and/or subsequent performance, while the rest of us fgured out where to shower, eat and poo. On the star coach, we at least had a shower and full kitchen. However, no bus allowed anything other than liquid in its toilets, and the star had defnitely tested his coach on this point and got everyone in trouble with its driver early on. On the road, every day was different. On occasion, the crew shared a hotel “shower room,” or the venue itself
had a dressing room with a shower, or, when blessed with a night off, crew were given hotel rooms to share. That was heaven: to sleep in a full-size bed for a whole night, to take a long shower, to have the privacy of a bathroom, and not embarrassingly walk by an entire crew who knew what you were about to do, to brush one’s teeth without holding oneself up with the other hand. (Of course, after just a few days, even when we weren’t on the bus I felt like I was constantly moving and dealing with motion sickness.) Tension inevitably built, and by the halfway point nerves were tested. Colds were spreading. Families were forming while others came apart. The videographers were missing the best parts of the drama as we fought behind the scenes. I blogged within the lines. And when it came to show time, none of this mattered. At the end of the night, three or four of us headed back to the star coach once Markus had signed enough autographs. We checked out what “hospitality” had been loaded into our kitchen
(Champagne, vodka, hummus, chips, bottled water) before tying up the fridge for the next bumpy ride, lest we wake up to a picnic on the foor, broken glass and homeless pickles. Sometimes we watched a movie in the living room, sometimes we listened to music, sometimes we bonded and laughed, and sometimes we fought and threw shoes. But always, we kept on a professional and positive face for the sake of the fans. I went home with one bruise for every city we visited, and one of them was about the size of the bus. I went home with a sigh of relief that I could wake up knowing what time zone I was in, that I could make it through a night without wishing a sleep-belt had been invented, bumping into a TV if I turned over, or having anxiety that the object I was sleeping in might tumble off the side of a mountain. I went home missing the forced closeness with other people, but not their drama. And Markus, well, he went back to fying around the world with a laptop and USB drive.
Check out the complete gallery of tour photos at VegasSeven.com/MarkusSchulz. Keep an eye out for Schulz’s next Las Vegas stop at MarkusSchulz.com.
NIGHTLIFE
PARTIES
MARQUEE
The Cosmopolitan [ UPCOMING ]
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See more photos from this gallery at SPYONVegas.com
PHOTOS BY POWERS IMAGERY
October 31–November 6, 2013
Nov. 1 Cosmic Gate spins Nov. 2 Chuckie spins Nov. 4 Vice spins
NIGHTLIFE
PARTIES
1 OAK
The Mirage [ UPCOMING ]
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See more photos from this gallery at SPYONVegas.com
PHOTOS BY BOBBY JAMEIDAR
October 31–November 6, 2013
Nov. 1 DJ Jus Ske spins Nov. 5 PUSH Awards Nov. 8 DJ E-Rock’s birthday celebration
NIGHTLIFE
PARTIES
ARTISAN
1501 W. Sahara Ave [ UPCOMING ]
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See more photos from this gallery at SPYONVegas.com
PHOTOS BY SEAN AKARI AND TOBY ACUNA
October 31–November 6, 2013
Oct. 31 Circus Freak Sleepover Nov. 2 DJ Carlo Rio spins
NIGHTLIFE
PARTIES
PURE
Caesars Palace [ UPCOMING ]
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See more photos from this gallery at SPYONVegas.com
PHOTOS BY BOBBY JAMEIDAR AND JOE TORRANCE
October 31–November 6, 2013
Oct. 31 Halloween Party Nov. 2 The Weeknd performs Nov. 12 Stache Bash with DJ Well Groomed
DINING
SCENE
Celebrity Burgers: A Juicy Tale Las Vegas will soon welcome another celebrity hamburger restaurant—ftting, since the concept was born here By Al Mancini
October 31–November 6, 2013
➧ HAVE YOU HAD a hamburger on
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the Strip lately? There’s certainly no shortage of gourmet burger spots offering thick, juicy patties of exotic meats, dozens of gourmet toppings and artisanal rolls. Today’s burger is a far cry from the cardboard-tasting fast-food hockey pucks that defned hamburger restaurants just a decade ago. Mario Batali will soon be offering his spin on the American staple at the upcoming B&B Burger & Beer in the Venetian. You can already hear certain critics bitching and moaning about another celebrity chef cashing in on
the burger craze. What they ignore is the fact that celebrity hamburger joints have become a Las Vegas institution— a national trend that was born in our own backyard. In 2003, Bill Richardson was overseeing the creation of the new Mandalay Place shopping complex when the developers of his planned hamburger restaurant dropped out. Downstairs, famed French chef Hubert Keller was in the process of bringing his San Francisco fagship restaurant Fleur de Lys to Mandalay Bay. Richardson asked Keller if he would have his team take over the space for a few months.
He could do whatever he pleased. The chef decided to stick with burgers, but asked if he could keep the space permanently. Despite gourmet touches such as a wagyu “Rossini” burger topped with shaved truffes and foie gras, a great craft beer selection, an in-house butcher shop and Keller’s insistence that all burgers be formed by hand, the dining world was skeptical. Daniel Boulud had already made headlines with a superpricey burger at his New York brasserie. But no fne-dining chef had ever dedicated a restaurant exclusively to
burgers. “No chefs would ever put their name on a burger,” Keller recalls. “Because in our industry, if you’re a complete loser, the thing [people say] is always, ‘Go fip burgers!’” While critics snickered, Burger Bar was a hit. It was constantly packed, and other fne-dining chefs noticed. As Michelin-starred chef Alessandro Stratta told me at the time, everybody wanted a Burger Bar. Famed French chef Laurent Tourondel opened his BLT Burger in The Mirage in 2008. But it would take a few more years for a local celeb to plant his fag on the burger battlefeld. Kerry Simon was a natural for that role. He’d defeated Cat Cora in Iron Chef America’s “Battle Hamburger” episode, and soon began reproducing that winning burger in his local restaurant. He had defed critics before by abandoning fne dining to create gourmet comfort food. So the unveiling of K.G.B. (Kerry’s Gourmet Burgers) at Harrah’s in 2010 just made sense. “It had
always been in my head, ever since Iron Chef,” Simon says of the burger venture. “So it just kind of fell into place.” Burger restaurants have continued to explode in Las Vegas over the past few years, including Gordon Ramsay’s BurGR in Planet Hollywood. So why does Las Vegas need another celebrity chef burger joint? “We don’t,” Batali says. “But we do need a really good place to get super-top-quality beef in a hamburger in a casual bar setting.” He promises that by using trimmings from the house-aged beef at his Palazzo steakhouse Carnevino, he’ll be able to offer world-class burgers at bargain prices. So ignore the food snobs, and take pride in our celebrity burger restaurants. They aren’t simply delicious, affordable and approachable. They’re also a born-in-Vegas phenomenon, and a far greater contribution to the dining world than the 99cent shrimp cocktail or the casino buffet.
PHOTO BY JON ESTRADA
Las Vegas’ original burger king, chef Hubert Keller, with his $60 Rossini burger.
Cosmopolitan mixologist Mariena Mercer has a voracious reading habit: four books each month, with two to three going at any given time. And the tomes occupying her nightstand have a quirky habit of manifesting themselves in “Miss Wizard’s” menus. To wit, the new 10-cocktail list that launched October 25 at the Cosmo’s Chandelier 1.5 bar features the Cat’s Cradle ($14), inspired by the Kurt Vonnegut novel of the same name. But while that book is a satirical commentary all about the madness of modern man, this feminine, culinary-style fall drink is all about her Professor Plum plum-rose shrub. Shrubs—sweetened vinegar-based syrups—are “a great vehicle to impart depth, brightness and complexity,” Mercer says. The key is to let much of the vinegar boil off before cooling the syrup. To this she adds Fords Gin, Hum liqueur, lemon juice and Dry lavender soda. So, what’s next? Perhaps “Atlas Shrubbed?” Learn to make shrubs and the Cat’s Cradle at VegasSeven.com/Cocktail-Culture. – Xania Woodman
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Photo by kin lui
Cocktails by the Book
October 31–November 6, 2013
Drinking
A&E October 31–November 6, 2013 VEGAS SEVEN
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him permission to stray in Vegas because it might bring back the old spark. Sam goes through the flm seeking out a willing fing. Does he fnd one? And does this possible fing lead him back to his wife’s bed in the sweetest, chastest yet most comical of ways? Hint: Did Kline not build a portion of his career playing lovable, yet comic rogues? There is Archie (Freeman), who, after suffering a stroke, has become a prisoner of his son’s overprotective impulses. He sneaks away from his offspring with a hilarious ruse, wears an adorable fanny pack and cashes in his retirement for blackjack chips. Does this Vegas trip help him regain his role as a self-determined grown-up? Hint: Is his last name Freeman? There is Paddy (De Niro), who has degenerated into a grumpy shut-in after his wife died and one of his three best friends skipped out on said wife’s funeral. Will Vegas fun help Paddy reconcile with his friends and learn to embrace life anew? Hint: There is a scene at Haze in which De Niro punches Entourage’s Jerry Ferrara. And finally there is Billy (Douglas), the one in the group who turned out more than OK. He has a Malibu beach house, a personal assistant and a fiancée half his age. Can this Vegas trip help him ditch his sexy fiancée and find a woman his own age? Yes, it can. But should it? Really, should it? This is Vegas after all. Eh, OK, here’s your hint: The lovely 60-year-old Mary Steenburgen has a starring role as a lounge singer at Binion’s. The Vegas Fairy Tale offers a three-part fantasy: gambling, babes and partying. As a pretty classic example of the genre, Last Vegas indulges all of them. Together, these three prongs of the Vegas fantasy unite to provide absolute escape from tourists’ pathetic quotidian lives back home. But can we as a city cash the check that these films are writing? The frst and most important part of the Vegas Fairy Tale is winning big. See Vegas Vacation for precedent in which the underage son Rusty Griswold becomes a high-roller complete with a hot tub full of hot chicks. In Last Vegas, no big spoiler alert, Freeman’s character turns
In cinema, Vegas embodies bucks, babes and booze: (clockwise from top left) Vegas Vacation, The Hangover’s strip tease, Swingers, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Last Vegas’ pool party and roller coaster ride and The Hangover’s table games.
a $15,000 retirement into more than $100,000. With the winnings comes a staggering comped suite at Aria and a personal VIP host to attend to the four friends’ every whim. Tourists, on behalf of the Las Vegas economy, I entreat you to try this little gambling trick yourselves. With big winnings, a sick suite and a personal servant, De Niro, Freeman, Kline and Douglas (nobody is thinking of them as their characters’
Vegas flms. There’s Swingers’ willing cocktail waitresses, The Hangover’s marriageable stripper and Leaving Las Vegas’ empathetic hooker. In Last Vegas, the hot babes fall into two categories: girls that are our fellows’ age and girls that are way younger. Since it’s a Vegas fantasy, our fellows get both. There’s a budding relationship with a surprisingly classy, beautiful, intelligent and age-appropriate lounge singer, played by Steenburgen. (Be-
Vegas fantasy, realized in no small part by the frst two aspects, is the awesome party. (See all movies about Las Vegas for precedent.) In Last Vegas, our boys party in several ways. They go clubbing, during which Freeman discovers vodka-Red Bulls and De Niro recovers his fghting prowess. “See, old men can have fun, too,” the movie cries out. Then there’s the climax of the flm, which happens as a party in the boys’ hotel
THE VEGAS FAIRY TALE OFFERS A THREE-PART FANTASY: GAMBLING, BABES AND PARTYING. AS A PRETTY CLASSIC EXAMPLE OF THE GENRE, LAST VEGAS INDULGES ALL OF THEM. names) are ready to live out the rest of the Vegas Fairy Tale in style. The rest being babes and partying, which when done correctly produces a general sense of being superior to everybody else. (How is that feeling expandable to the scale of all Vegas tourists? If everybody is better than everybody else, then who is everybody else better than? It’s the paradox that produced bottle service.) The sexy lady aspect naturally has a strong precedent in other
cause all desirable local ladies just can’t wait to date tourists. And yes, with Clark County’s population of approximately 2 million there are more than enough local gals to service the 40 million-odd annual visitors.) On the young, foozy side, these men fnd hot babes everywhere: They single out sexy passersby on the Strip; they judge a bikini contest hosted by Redfoo; and the “boys” might even fnd a bachelorette who likes mature men. The third portion of the
suite. At this bash, everything comes together and all problems are solved. The four friends wear tailored suits, symbolically completing their Fairy Tale makeover from fuddy-duddies to coolerthan-thou high-rollers. All variations of the Vegas girls are there for decoration. Freeman dances, as does the cast of Zarkana. Why? Because they were invited via party fier. (Reality alert: The only way you can get Cirque du Soleil to perform at your party is
if you pay them.) But reality doesn’t matter. This is the Vegas fantasy, and it’s fun to watch our four actors having fun. We’ve seen them serious in so many other movies that watching Last Vegas is almost like going on vacation with old friends. **** At the after-party at Haze, while the stars were walking the red carpet, the tables were already waiting for them with a rose, a candle, delicate snacks and paper nameplates that read: De Niro, Freeman, Kline, Douglas and [Jon] Turtletaub, the flm’s director. At this moment, Vegas fantasy and Vegas reality dosey-doed. Here was a scene from the flm being— more or less—re-enacted in real time. And reality disappointed. Unlike the party animal portrayed in the movie, Freeman went home after the red carpet, not even passing “go” in the club. Steenburgen hung out for a little while. As for the rest, their nameplates were soon removed. Ferrara, who played a club kid who becomes the old men’s lackey, stayed the longest. That was it. At midnight the party ended and the regular people were allowed to enter the club. Somewhere among the crowd, were four elderly friends waiting in line, looking for a new lease on retirement? Perhaps not this time, but there will be. At least by the time Last Vegas debuts on Netflix.
A&E
POP CULTURE
Night Stalking Remembering Las Vegas’ role in a spooky, ’70s-era series
October 31–November 6, 2013
By Jason Scavone
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LAS VEGAS’ GREATEST contribution to the Halloween landscape (besides being the world’s petri dish for the sexy-whatever costume phenomenon) is a cultfavorite, one-season wonder from the ’70s—that grand, bygone era when Halloween meant wearing crappy plastic mask/vinyl poncho costumes. Or at least it will stand as Las Vegas’ greatest contribution to Halloween until Brach’s gives in to my demands and builds a candy corn factory in Henderson. In 1970, Las Vegas Sun reporter Jeff Rice fnished work on The Kolchak Papers, the unpublished novel that would be adapted in 1972 by ABC into the made-for-TV movie The Night Stalker. Handling the adaptation was veteran Richard Matheson who, among other things, wrote the classic Twilight Zone jam “Nightmare at 20,000 feet” and the 1954 novel I Am Legend, later adapted into Chuck Heston-vs.-postapocalyptic mutants 1971 gem The Omega Man (and, to a lesser extent, 2007’s I Am Legend). But in that January 1972, Darren McGavin, before his generational turn in A Christmas Story, took on the role of Carl Kolchak, a cantankerous, put-upon newspaper reporter in a rumpled seersucker suit and straw fedora. Kolchak was a newspaperman fallen from big-time grace, lumping it in Las Vegas on the cop beat when a series of murders catches his interest because all the victims had their blood drained. There’s some skepticism, there’s some police denial, there may have been a shootout where the suspected murderer doesn’t bleed and escapes the police over a wall. But in the end Kolchak beats the vampire drum long enough to pull out a Wile E. Coyote-size mallet and wooden stake to show cops how they should be armed. Without spoiling a 40-yearold TV movie (though with
Chekhov’s Stake and a bona fde Nosferatu loose in Vegas, you can probably fgure it out), Kolchak is eventually run out of town after trying to publish his vampire story. He was told in no uncertain terms it’s bad for business. This calculated tendency on the part of Las Vegas powers that be of weighing negative against the broader truth is the only fctionalized element of the story. It was a runaway hit, pulling down a 33.2 rating—meaning more than half the TVs in the country were tuned to The Night Stalker—because in the early ’70s the only other things to watch were Paul Lynde in an ascot, just sitting around his house, or Monday Night Football’s early experiments with George Blanda’s Sideburns Cam. The movie was such a hit that the following January, ABC aired a sequel, The Night Strangler, that saw Kolchak setting up shop in Seattle (along with, for some reason, his perpetually put-upon editor in Las Vegas, Tony Vincenzo). This time it was an immortal killer committing ritual murders to fuel his elixir of life. This one did a 23.4 in the ratings, enough for ABC to order a series, Kolchak: The Night Stalker. The series premiered in 1974, only going 20 episodes before petering out. Kolchak (and the world’s most employee-loyal editor Vincenzo) was in Chicago this time, where he went through a monster-of-the-week investigation—werewolves, zombies, witches, uh, the ghost of a knight who possessed his old armor in what I can only imagine came from an increasingly desperate writers room meeting that ended in someone screaming, “Screw it, we’ll just do Scooby-Doo plots then. Is that what you want, Stanley? Fine. Fine. I don’t even care anymore, I just want to go home and put my damn kid to bed.” It’s actually refreshing to
THE FORMULA WAS ALWAYS THE SAME: KOLCHAK CAUGHT WIND OF A FREAKY STORY. HE THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO REVIVE HIS CAREER. HE INVESTIGATED, DISCOVERED THE PARANORMAL AT PLAY, NO ONE BELIEVED HIM AND EVENTUALLY HE WAS PROVEN RIGHT—BUT WITH NO WITNESSES. watch a show that episodic now that all our best shows are heavily serialized. The formula was always the same: Kolchak caught wind of a freaky story. He thought it was going to revive his career. He investigated, discovered the paranormal at play, no one believed him and eventually he was proven right—but with no witnesses. You’d think the Chicago cops would realize the Windy City was the most haunted place in America, but I suppose when confronted with that much evidence of the supernatural, you’d turn to denial, too, if you wanted to just grab an Italian beef on the way home without having to worry about mummies all over the damn place. Aside from doing a novelization of the Matheson-penned Night Strangler, Rice wouldn’t
be involved with any other who were using “black oil” to writing on the series. But take over certain important Kolchak is a lasting legacy, not humans, turning them into just for Las Vegas’ spot in the mindless slaves as part of a Halloween frmament, nor for vaster plan to colonize Earth. being a cult-fave that spawned After The Night Strangler, a short-lived 2005 remake and there was a third Kolchak a series of books and comics. movie, The Night Killer, that The series was also heavily Matheson wrote, which would infuential on Chris Carter have been made if not for the when creating The series order. In it, X-Files. That show Kolchak and VinHOW TO WATCH really leaned on the cenzo teamed up in monster-of-theHawaii, where there The Night week template in the was a UFO and a Stalker and The early goings until the string of murders. Night Strangler series began to tease Kolchak discovered are out of out its overarching that aliens were print, but the Smoking Man-driven replacing murdered series is available conspiracy narrative. government ofstreaming on Eventually, X-Files fcials with androids Netfix or for would reveal a large in a bid to establish purchase on part of that plot a colony on Earth. Amazon Instant involved a shadow Fire up the Video and government that cotheremin, strange iTunes. operated with aliens forces are afoot.
A&E
movies
mccarthy misfire Novelist’s debut screenplay a fawed foundation for The Counselor By Michael Phillips Tribune Media Services
set along the Texas/Mexico border but photographed largely in Spain, The Counselor is novelist Cormac McCarthy’s frst original screenplay to make it before the cameras. It concerns a self-deluding and fnancially challenged Texan who takes a chance involving some cocaine cartel money to dig himself out of a fnancial hole. Drugs; greed; malice; ridiculous lifestyle excess, signifed by the chief sociopath’s pet cheetahs: The Counselor offers all sorts of pulpy theoretical interest. As a bonus, the violence showcases not one but two really nasty ways to die via beheading, which is one more exotic method of killing than we got with the cattle stun-gun as deployed in the Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men, taken from a McCarthy novel. The Counselor is packed with cartel goons with bad teeth (just like the unsavory Mexicans of Hollywood’s
ethnically sensitive past), surrounding a cast directed by Ridley Scott, including Michael Fassbender, Penelope Cruz, Cameron Diaz, Javier Bardem and Brad Pitt. All that —and yet, dull. Why? For one thing, McCarthy’s story zigs and zags, but in slow motion. The character relationships lack the spark and juice of enjoyable trash. McCarthy’s dialogue suffers from an excess of capital-W Writing that doesn’t sound like speakable human expression, even famboyant, proudly artifcial human expression. When someone accuses the Diaz character of being “cold,” she fxes her opponent with a glare and replies: “Truth has no temperature.” There are two kinds of people in the world: Those who will admire that line, quite apart from the leaden way Diaz delivers it, and those who won’t. Fassbender’s character, whose twang carries a touch
Javier Bardem’s character must’ve had temporary blindness when buying this outfit.
of the Old Sod, needs dough to fnance, among other commodities, a monster engagement ring for his intended (Cruz). She does not know about her man’s deal with the cartel devils. Reiner, Bardem’s character, dominated by fright-wig hair in a permanent state of excitation, is the sometime associate of the counselor and has brought
the lawyer (Fassbender) in on a new nightclub project. Diaz portrays Reiner’s inhumanly tough mistress, the cheetah wrangler, resident sexual fuhREAK and apparent stringpuller of half the globe’s nefarious business interests. The narrative twists itself into pretzels trying to stay ahead of the audience. Fassbender’s reactive patsy of a
October 31–November 6, 2013
short reviews
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Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa (R) ★★✩✩✩
The Jackass crew is back. In this one, Johnny Knoxville dons old-age makeup and becomes Irving Zisman, a grandpa who goes on to carry out elaborately staged pranks played on the unsuspecting. There are explosive laughs in these stunts: grandpa sucker-punched by an air bag, hurled through a store window by a kiddie ride set up out front, etc. Most of the funny stunts you’ve already seen in the trailer. All in all, this doesn’t hold together as a full feature.
12 Years a Slave (R) ★★★★✩
A film this good and this quietly distinctive is always welcome. From Brad Pitt’s production company and Shame director Steve McQueen, this film is extraordinary. Based upon the 1853 slave narrative by Solomon Northup (played by an incredible Chiwetel Ejiofor), it takes the freeborn man of color from Saratoga, New York, to the swamps and whip cracks of preCivil War Louisiana. While working as a violinist in Washington D.C., Northup was drugged, kidnapped, chained and sold into slavery. The filmmaking is subtle and fantastic. The actors, incredible. The movie, an absolute triumph.
Carrie (R) ★★★✩✩
This remake of the 1976 Brian De Palma cult horror classic actually isn’t all that bad. Director Kimberly Peirce tactfully repaints the repressed and bullied and telekinetic Carrie (Chloë Grace Moretz), who exacts revenge upon her fellow prom-nighters. Julianne Moore seizes the day as Carrie’s fundamentalist and demonically cruel mother. Some things are different, others are the same. While the film hits all its marks, including the unforgettable pigs’ blood prom scene, there’s still just something missing. Probably just Sissy Spacek.
character exists to express shock at what his newfound colleagues will do in the name of frontier justice. Director Scott lends The Counselor a solid, shiny level of craftsmanship. But even if we’ve never personally done these sorts of deals ourselves, at least lately, we’ve all been here before. The Counselor (R) ★★✩✩✩
[ by tribune media services ]
The Fifth Estate (R) ★★✩✩✩
Try as they might, filmmakers just continue to have a tough time dramatizing the Internet. This tale about the formation of WikiLeaks and its mysterious founder Julian Assange (Benedict Cumberbatch) doesn’t quite achieve the quality of The Social Network. Much of the picture is a clash between new-school hot dog Assange and old-school journalistic types, embodied by The Guardian and The New York Times. Cumberbatch is good but just doesn’t have a whole lot to work with here.
Photo Credit: Cameron Grant - www.thehighpoints.com
On October 30, a statue of your father was unveiled outside of the Thomas & Mack Center. What does that mean to you and your family? It’s a great feeling. In 1992, when the university requested that my dad resign, Joe Foley, who was on the Board of Regents, grabbed me outside of the meeting and said, “If your dad will walk away and not fght us, we’ll build a statue for him. We’ll make a Hall of Fame at the university, and he’ll be a primary part of it. But if he fghts us, we will eliminate his name from the university.” And I thought at the time, “What a stupid comment, because all that’s going to do is hurt the university, not my father.” Fortunately, things have changed, starting with Jim Rogers getting the basketball court named after him, and then [former coach] Lon Kruger coming in and reaching out to the former players and my dad. We’ve come full circle. So it’s funny that 21 years after Joe Foley’s threat, there’s fnally going to be a statue there.
October 31–November 6, 2013
Excluding yourself, who’s the one former Rebel you think your dad is most proud of? Larry Johnson, defnitely. My dad would say unequivocally he’s the best player he ever coached, and he thinks Larry is as good a person as he was a player, so that says a lot.
Danny Tarkanian
The former UNLV point guard and political candidate on his dad’s Hall of Fame induction, the agony of losing an election and fatherly lessons learned By Sean DeFrank
You worked as an assistant alongside your dad at Fresno State. How much do you miss coaching, and do you think you’ll ever go back? I know I won’t go back to it; I’m past that point. You have to be young enough and be willing to be away from your family long enough. The best thing about me not coaching is I get to spend so much time with
my kids, which I love. Do I miss coaching? Every March, during tournament time; I don’t think you could have been in coaching or involved in March Madness and not miss it when that period comes around. Aside from running the Tarkanian Basketball Academy, what are your immediate plans? Right now, I have a really good commercial center that I built in ’07, so anybody who knows the real estate market knows it’s been challenging to keep that property. We’re very close to getting it stabilized, and it would be wonderful security for my family if that happens. I’m concentrating on that, and I’m spending a lot of time with my family that I hadn’t had a chance to over the past three years because I was running for the Senate and Congress. And I’m spending a lot of time with my dad, with his health issues. Those are my priorities at this point. I’m also working on a book about my dad, which I hope is going to get published and turned into a movie. What’s it feel like to lose an election? I haven’t experienced the death of a close one, but there’s been nothing more painful than losing a political race, and each one has gotten worse. The last one was very, very hard to overcome. I assume the death of a close one will be worse, but I hope it’s not much more. What’s the best advice you ever got from your dad? That’s a good one. [Long pause.] I can’t recall my dad giving me specifc words of advice as much as just following his actions. The thing I learned most from my dad was how he dealt with people, how he treated people with respect, gave them his attention and made them feel good—people from all walks of life, from very wealthy to very poor and everything in between. My dad was great at that. … I haven’t been nearly as successful with it [laughs], but that’s the lesson.
VEGAS SEVEN
86 What are the moments that will last in your memory from your dad’s induction into the Basketball Hall of Fame, and was that essen-
tially the capper on Jerry Tarkanian’s career? When he was announced [at the induction ceremony], the ovation he received and the
smile he had on his face were the most wonderful things you could possibly imagine. But, no, the national championship was a more crowning
What does Danny Tarkanian think of the prospects for this year’s Rebels? And who does he hope will win the White House in 2016? Find out at VegasSeven.com/DannyTarkanian.
PHOTO BY JIM K. DECKER
7 QUESTIONS
achievement. When you win something on the court, that means you’ve won something. When you get voted in by, whatever, 22 or 24 people, it’s their opinion. And, quite frankly, for 20 years their opinions were pretty fawed.