Tuesday, May 25, 2004
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

STEVE SEBELIUS: On the auction block

Neonopolis, the little mall that couldn't, is up for sale.

The news will offer cheer to the cheerless critics of the place, and of downtown as a whole, who predicted Neonopolis would fail. The odds were with them, since a shopping mall, movie theater and entertainment complex in the middle of a downtown already populated by casinos is something only government could dream up.

Besides, what Las Vegas resident decides to leave the cozy confines of the 'burbs to come downtown to shop? Not with the Galleria, Boulevard, Meadows, Fashion Show, Forum Shops and a new mall rising in Summerlin much closer to home.

And what Las Vegas resident decides to drive past a neighborhood casino complete with bowling alleys, movie theaters and restaurants aplenty to come downtown for those things?

Don't say it's for tourists: There are too few of them to even keep the casinos afloat, much less a mall.

Neonopolis' flaws are manifest. First, and perhaps most egregious, you have to pay to park, something that runs counter to the Las Vegas ethos. But that's a consequence of the city subsidizing the structure with a $32 million parking garage, for which it needs revenue to retire debt. The fact that you can get validated at some of Neonopolis' shops is little consolation when virtually every other place in town offers free parking.

Second, finding the parking is an adventure as perilous as Luke Skywalker blowing up the Death Star: There's only one way in or out, off Fourth Street, and it's easy to miss. The ramp to the underground lot is narrow. And getting out is even worse, thanks to a wall that looks as if it was built to obscure the view of the average car's side-view mirror.

Is there a huge semi-truck rumbling down Fourth Street, ready to take out your car's front end? Creep out as much as you like, it's still hard to see. In the end, you just take a leap of faith.

Third, the mall wasn't built as advertised, with a wide-open design that spilled patrons onto Fremont Street and connected with the pedestrian nature of the mall. Instead of sidewalk cafes and balconies crowded with partygoers, there's a thick, forbidding wall that hides the interior of the mall from view. And that obscures a classic collection of historic neon signs.

By the way, did you know there's a full-fledged movie theater inside? Not many do, thanks to a lack of signage. The lonely box office (which blocks the view of The Saloon from the street) is seriously misplaced.

Neonopolis was as inorganic a development as is possible: It replaced a popular blues club and a grocery store, which makes Mayor Oscar Goodman's laments about needing food retailers downtown all the more ironic. There were several groundbreakings and a dedication as the project stalled and stalled again. And the staggered opening of the Race Rock restaurant (which went belly-up before the first meal was served at Neonopolis) was a disaster.

So what can be done, now that the mall is on the block?

A radical solution like tearing part of it down and redesigning it is probably not in the offing, although it's critical to connect the mall to the pedestrian walkway outside. Some have suggested big video screens mounted on that foreboding wall to depict the action inside. The mall's strengths -- The Saloon and Jillian's -- could revamp their outdoor dining to advertise the fact that there are people inside the big box.

Ohio businessman Donald Troxel was rejected when he proposed a gay-themed nightclub on the second floor, but that doesn't mean that a club couldn't set up shop, perhaps knocking out some walls to put in some windows or a balcony that invites passers-by to take a look.

"To me, it needs to look a little less like a fortress," says Anne Kellogg, a downtown booster and lifelong Las Vegan. Kellogg's idea for the space is intriguing: Leave the restaurants (and second-floor food court) in place, but turn the rest of the place into convention space.

With hotels from Caesars to Mandalay Bay to The Venetian adding convention space, it's a natural for downtown, although it departs from Neonopolis' original vision and would compete with Cashman Field. Race Rock could become a hot new wedding chapel, with neon museum signs as a backdrop, Kellogg says.

Whatever happens, the mall needs better marketing, including sprucing up that wall with neon, which was part of the original plan, says Cindy Funkhouser, another downtown booster and a founder of First Friday, the monthly jaunt through downtown neighborhoods. More interesting stores, perhaps centered around downtown's emerging arts culture, might draw locals, because that's something they can't get elsewhere.

The sale of Neonopolis certainly isn't the death knell for downtown, or even a metaphor for its problems. But for the city, which must sign off on the new owner, it's definitely an opportunity that shouldn't be wasted.

Steve Sebelius is a Review-Journal political columnist. His column runs Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday. Reach him at 383-0283 or by e-mail at ssebelius@reviewjournal.com.