The Casino File
Atlantic City boasts two adults-only productions: ”The Hook” at Caesars Atlantic City and “The Burlesque Show” at Borgata Hotel Casino & Spa.
There are some noticeable changes in “The Hook,” the two-year-old offering at Caesars that remains Atlantic City’s sole Las Vegas-style, year-round resident production show. For starters, there’s a new “Dick Marlin” (the character who serves as the emcee; more on him below). And the second (female) comedy role has been eliminated.
But this year’s edition is even tighter and better-paced than we remember. And with the introduction of some new attractions, “The Hook” now has its strongest lineup of specialty acts to date.
The new standout is “hair hanger” Miranda Menzies (who was profiled here last month). The Edinburgh, Scotland native, who performs acrobatics above the stage suspended by her hair, is not merely a performer with a cool gimmick, but an artist who nimbly blends sound, choreography and physical strength with an ancient — but still-fascinating — discipline to conjure the show’s elegant high point.
But that’s not to diminish the work of the other cast members.
The duo billed as The Lifeguards are showcased in two segments. In the first, they score with some nifty maneuvers on roller skates; their turn climaxes with a high-speed “airplane spin” with the male skater holding his female partner aloft as he rotates — blindfolded — at a ridiculously (for the size of the space) quick clip. The duo returns later for an impressive aerial routine.
There are other notable performers as well: One is the contortionist who appears to have titanium coils where the rest of us have joints. He bends and twists his body into positions that seem to defy all physical laws. It’s a killer act, although not necessarily for the more squeamish among us.
We’re happy to report that also remaining on the talent roster are the pair of jugglers whose act consists of them stripping down to almost nothing and then re-dressing, all the while keeping three clubs perpetually in motion between them. It is the most entertaining feat of juggling we’ve ever seen in person.
Not quite as compelling is the magician (oddly, the show’s producer, Las Vegas-based Spiegelworld, prefers to keep some of their artists anonymous). His is a high-energy and agreeable set that’s focused on swallowing and regurgitating various objects that generally aren’t meant for oral consumption. He is a first-rate technician, if not exactly unique, and a crowd-pleaser.
Unfortunately, it’s the show’s connecting tissue that muddies the waters. Each time “Dick Marlin” is onstage, things temporarily go south.
It’s important to note that this is not in any way, shape or form the fault of Asher Treleaven, who has assumed the role of the revue’s smarmy master of ceremonies. His is a razor-sharp effort, ably capturing the kind of second- (third-?) rate entertainer whose obviously high opinion of his talents transcends reality. And he definitely succeeds if his goal is to lampoon this type of figure. That he looks like what would happen if Charles Nelson Reilly and Ted Knight had a son is a bonus.
The problem is his material, which is never less than coarse, puerile and, at very best, modestly amusing (to these ears, anyway; other audience members at a recent performance obviously disagreed). And his habit of dropping a superfluous F-bomb every two or three sentences only reinforces his character’s shortcomings.
But the rest of the program is strong enough to compensate for this. As such, it’s worth getting “Hooked” whether or not you’ve seen it before.
For tickets, go to spiegelworld.com.
Fun and skin still rule in “Burlesque Show” That this is the 12th (not a misprint) edition of “The Burlesque Show” at Borgata says all you need to know about its standing as a staple of the local casino-entertainment scene (it also remains the only non-holiday revue the Big B has ever hosted).
While the individual segments are brand new, the flashy R-rated show hews to its standard format of showcasing artfully staged striptease routines — some performed by women with such format-appropriate names as Rosy Cheeks and Trixie Mink. There is nothing exploitive or crass in their performances, as they sensually disrobe, ending only when just pasties and G-strings remain. Their turns are primarily interspersed with comedy in the form of brief sketches and, more importantly, sequences featuring the program’s hilarious host, Chris Morris.
While on the surface, Morris and “Dick Marlin” serve the same exact function — to provide dollops of adult humor between featured acts — there is no comparison: Morris is a laugh-generating machine.
His stock-in-trade remains the kind of good, old-fashioned dirty jokes that generations of men told in bars and their sons told in schoolyards in the decades before political correctness took hold. And while the more sensitive among us may take exception to the material, there is absolutely nothing that can be construed as mean, hurtful or insulting (except of course, when Morris flings a zinger at a targeted customer; even then it’s always in fun).
The portly Morris is a master of the form; although his material is unsophisticated and often raw, his smart delivery and comedic presence make all of it not just benign, but extremely funny.
One non-Morris comedy bit that stands out is the clever “story time” segment that has a primly dressed woman reading aloud what is ostensibly a kids’ book, but which is actually a tale overstuffed with double entendres and sexual innuendo.
Also on the bill is variety artist Keith Nelson, who amazes with a sharp bit involving swinging a glass containing liquid on what appears to be a pool-table rack without spilling a drop. His second turn recreates one of show business’ hokiest (but apparently still-beloved) bits, balancing spinning plates perched atop slender poles.
Adding to the fun is Jillian Reed’s sharp choreography and the sexy, eye-catching costumes of Kristen Valentine (the wife of producer Allen Valentine and a member of the show’s dance ensemble).
As always, these elements combine for a brisk 70 minutes of naughty, bawdy, gaudy fun.
For tickets, go to ticketmaster.com.
Chuck Darrow has spent more than 40 years writing about Atlantic City casinos.
