Sunday, August 10, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

THE STRIP: That's Dealertainment

Imperial Palace's card-dealing impersonators attract tourists

An Elwood Blues impersonator shows off the jewelry in his briefcase before taking up his station behind a blackjack table at the Imperial Palace. He, along with an Elvis impersonator and other mock celebrities, draw large crowds to the casino, hotel representatives say. Photo by Christine H. Wetzel. People who normally wouldn't play table games give it a try when celebrity look-alikes, such as Marilyn Monroe, deal blackjack to them, Imperial Palace casino manager Craig Garland says of the property's "dealertainers." Photo by Christine H. Wetzel. Marilyn Monroe and Elwood Blues impersonators clap along to music as a Friday night crowd gathers to watch the dealertainers at Imperial Palace's Legends blackjack pit. Photo by Christine H. Wetzel.

Spotting Elvis in a casino is no big deal.

But seeing the King dealing blackjack in the Imperial Palace was enough to entice Greg Korsmoe into trying his luck. The North Dakota tourist pulled out a $20 bill and wagered the table minimum $5.

"Elvis is the only reason I'm sitting here," Korsmoe said.

Four hands later, he pulled out another $20.

"I'll donate some more money to Elvis because he's an entertainer," he said to a friend watching the action. Elvis shimmied and curled his lip before dealing Korsmoe another lousy hand.

"Elvis is kicking my ass," Korsmoe announced as he picked up his remaining chips to move on after losing nearly $40 in five minutes to the casino's ultimate combination of entertainment and gambling.

Put this on the "only in Vegas" list.

Every Thursday through Sunday at 6 p.m., Elvis parades inside the Imperial Palace casino with a feathered showgirl on his arm. Behind them a procession of mock superstars follows, clapping to the beat of the Blues Brothers song "Everybody Needs Somebody to Love": Barbra Streisand, Elton John, Rod Stewart, Buddy Holly, Madonna, Ray Charles, Jake and Elwood Blues, Patsy Cline and others.

Jake Blues turns a cartwheel before seven of the "dealertainers" take up positions in the Legends blackjack pit.

Elvis lip-syncs "Viva Las Vegas," the impersonators go wild and the crowd swells to dozens, sometimes hundreds, of slack-jawed tourists who can't believe their eyes. Elwood Blues opens his signature briefcase and hands out jewelry to the other dealertainers. As soon as the song ends, the dealertainers smile and encourage people to sit down and play.

The recent Thursday that Korsmoe was there was no different.

Some bystanders rushed to their favorite impersonator. Ray Charles' table filled up first, perhaps because the players thought they would have an edge over a blind man.

The Ray Charles dealertainer stood behind the table with a white cane next to him and as players handed over cash, he held the bills inches from his face, as though he were attempting to identify them.

"Ray Charles is funny, he's a killer blind guy," said casino manager Craig Garland. "But that's all show; he's not blind."

Throughout their 10-hour shifts, the dealers stay in character. They don't use their real names. Guests love it when Ray Charles goes on break and Madonna escorts him off the floor, Garland said.

The dealertainers have been so popular since their July introduction, Garland plans to add several more, perhaps Michael Jackson, Cher, Tom Jones and Prince.

The impersonators are not part of the "Legends in Concert" show at the hotel. They're either entertainers who were trained to deal or dealers who resembled entertainers. Characters were chosen based on dealers' resemblance to celebrities, said Imperial Palace spokeswoman Jackie Brett.

"It's kind of a unique thing with the table games. We don't have all the waterfalls and all the stuff others have. We're just a little casino trying to make things fun," Garland said of the dealertainers.

The atmosphere is looser than other gaming tables, where the dealer is expected to maintain a disinterest in players so as not to give the impression of favoritism.

"Table games are very intimidating, but these aren't," Garland said. "We absolutely get people playing who wouldn't normally."

Richard and Mei Sather from Oklahoma cautiously inched up to Streisand's table.

"It's fun. It got us over here from the Paris," said Richard Sather.

They moved to Elvis' table after losing a couple of hands to Barbra.

To keep a tight rein on the game, each table uses a continuous card shuffler, which decreases a player's odds of winning.

"People don't like those, so the art of having Elvis dealing is people forget about them," Garland added.

The idea for the impersonator-dealers came to Garland when he and a co-worker saw a man on the Strip charging $10 to have a photo taken with Elvis. So many people were standing in line, Garland said, "Hey, we should have him dealing."

It seemed to be the natural and necessary progression of entertainment in Las Vegas, Garland said. With a huge pool of entertainers to draw on, the possibilities are endless.

"The customer base is changing. We're getting younger demographics" and fewer visitors who come to Las Vegas to gamble, Garland explained.

"People are here to have a good time and we need (to) change (in response) to the market. The market isn't going to change to us," Garland said.

Perhaps Detroit native Massimo Desantis put it best as he watched his friend Korsmoe lose to Elvis.

"I think it's entertaining. Why not have fun while losing your money?"