Last night was the opening film, opening party and opening ceremonies of the 2009 CineVegas Film Festival. The film, Saint John of Las Vegas, was also enjoying its world premiere at the CHI Showroom inside Planet Hollywood Resort, Hotel, Casino, Film Location and Mall. I won’t attempt a review of the Steve Buscemi-starring indie movie. It was good, funny in the right places, though not great, but my buddy Josh Bell can tell you more about what did and didn’t suck (though he may have missed the allusion in the story to Dante’s Inferno).
I was invited to the opening night festivities (including the after-party at Prive nightclub), but unlike the last few years, I opted not to get press credentials for the festival. This is no slight against CineVegas, but rather an indication of how limited my time is right now: I have just enough to maintain the level of output musically, journalistically and, uh, comic book .. er … y (?) as I have been for these past few months with a little wiggle room for TOP SECRET PROJECTS. But, y’know, that doesn’t mean I’m going to turn down an invite from my peeps at CineVegas.
The premiere of Saint John was attended by most of the cast, director Hue Rhodes, the usual crop of Vegas headliners (creepy-ass Carrot Top, future Peepshow star Holly Madison, a bunch of unrecognizable dudes presumably from song-and-dance shows featuring the music of the 1950s/60s), CineVegas royalty (i.e., Dennis Hopper) and, um, me. ME. And a lot of rubberneckers mobbing the velvet rope outside the red carpet.
I didn’t stay for the after-party. It’s been a long week and I wasn’t feeling it. Plus: I have another CineVegas party to attend on Friday, so I will gladly drink their free booze then. And I will also gladly eat and drink sin dinero at First Food & Bar on Friday for that grand opening. Oh, and maybe enjoy a Foster’s or two tonight at the Rio’s Voodoo Beach, where Cracker is playing one of those free show things. Yeesh.
Also, in between all the event moochery, I found time to write a new article for your consumption in this week’s Las Vegas Weekly. It’s about long-time local band Cherry Hill, which, in what is either marketing genius or idiocy, is releasing its brand-new album at a show this Saturday billed as the group’s “final performance.” I know, right? Read all about it, kids.