Acting won’t help lawyer representing nightclub; managerial changes will

Thanks to a late postponement at the Clark County Government Center Comedy Club, Jay Brown gets two more weeks to work on his Rodney Dangerfield routine.

By the morning of Aug. 18, the well-connected attorney for the tanking Privé nightclub empire should have the shtick perfected: the goggle eyes, the tie askew and the hapless grin. And, of course, that trademark line about how his clients "get no respect, no respect at all."

Without some killer material -- the sort of stuff that will include big changes in the nightclub's ownership structure -- the lawyer will be left to explain the unexplainable to the County Commission. Namely, that the club somehow deserves to maintain its liquor license despite operating a disco cesspool.

I called Brown's office Tuesday in an attempt to hear his new material, but he was shy. Probably working on his best Rodney shrug.

(To help Brown out, I'll share a few gems from the master. Rodney once said, "What a childhood I had. My mother never breast-fed me. She said she liked me as a friend.")

Speaking of friends, the longtime Democratic Party fundraiser has plenty in public office, from the County Commission to Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid's office. But that's the trouble with the Privé issue. It's too hot and high profile to resolve with a few well-placed calls.

And there's that troublesome Gaming Control Board problem. The Control Board recently slapped Planet Hollywood, which leases space to Privé, with a $500,000 fine for not properly policing the club's activities. Among them: lax management practices that encouraged drinking by minors, dumping drunk customers and providing an atmosphere of gross lewdness in which patrons were sexually assaulted by employees and other clubbers.

(Speaking of youngsters, Rodney once said, "I live in a tough neighborhood. They got a children's zoo. Last week, four kids escaped.")

The club's woes are complicated by the affidavit of its former security manager, Ron Lyon, who has sworn he was only following orders when he attempted to bar Control Board agents from investigating a swingers' party at the nightclub in May. Lyon was later terminated, something attorney Brown noted in his attempt to defend his clients, but that's not enough to remove Privé from the regulatory radar screen.

(Speaking of naughty behavior, Rodney once said, "I tell ya, my wife likes to talk during sex. Last night, she called me from a motel.")

That means the likelihood of a big fine and the summary execution of managers Greg Jarmolowich and Frank Tucker, whose intriguing work history includes time at the controversial Pure nightclub, currently under scrutiny by IRS criminal investigators. They were named in the costly Control Board complaint.

And that will surely cost Jarmolowich and Tucker not only their lucrative Privé gig, but it should also kill their diminutive gold mine at the Mandalay Bay called Bambu Bar. Although reliable industry sources confirm Privé has been in discussions with Mandalay officials with the goal of leasing the space formerly occupied by Ivan Kane's Forty Deuce, MGM Mirage spokesman Gordon Absher offered no comment.

He did say the recent Bambu Bar closure was done out of an abundance of caution.

"We want to make sure that we are with the right partners because we have a lot at stake," he said. "We want to protect our license and protect our brands. Ahead of that, we want to make sure our customers enjoy their experience with us. We're taking an appropriate pause in conjunction with the operators of Bambu Bar to allow the findings of the board to play themselves out."

On the importance of the nightclub component, Absher said, "It does play an integral role. ... Nonworking space in a resort casino environment is not a good thing. We have a lot at stake, and we want to move forward with appropriate speed, but also with appropriate caution."

A fat fine and a change in management might save Privé's liquor license, but any number of nightclub operators can create a hip atmosphere and overcharge for booze. In this atmosphere, what casino company can afford to take a chance on trouble?

Since Brown has laryngitis, I'll give the last word to Rodney.

"I told my doctor I broke my arm in two places," Dangerfield said. "He told me to keep out of those places."

Rodney must have been hanging out in those Vegas nightclubs.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0295. He also blogs at lvrj.com/blogs/smith/.