I have a friend, a very creative
marketer, who has a concept for a themed casino resort for Las
Vegas. I'm sworn to secrecy on the details, but it's based on a
foreign destination, and he has come up with clever,
theme-consistent concepts for restaurants, bars, shows and
activities.
There's only one
problem: He's about six years too late.
New-builds going into
Las Vegas today are, by Las Vegas standards, downright subtle.
Echelon and CityCenter, two prominent new projects, are about
style, urbanity and luxury. And this has Las Vegas' themed palaces,
some of them shy of their 10th birthdays, a bit
concerned.
The MGM Grand shed
its Wizard of Oz image six years ago, and Treasure Island
shape-shifted into TI, but each is housed in a neutral shell. Pity
the owners of the Luxor, who have invested $1 billion -- and
counting -- in trying to renovate Egypt out of their pyramid. (The
original cost to build the resort was only $375
million.)
The de-theming of Las
Vegas underscores the important difference between a theme and a
brand. It turns out that the MGM Grand is far better at delivering
celebrity chefs, Cirque du Soleil and luxury Skylofts than they
were at creating a theme. Dorothy seemed out of her element walking
through a casino, especially in contrast to the cocktail waitresses
clad in mini-togas at Caesars. Luckily for MGM Grand, the Oz theme
was easily subordinated to its roaring (not cowardly) lion
logo.
If a theme ultimately
doesn't run as deep in consumer consciousness as a brand, where
does "reputation" fit in? Can it, like a theme, be
changed?
Las Vegas' diminutive
half-sister, Atlantic City, is hoping to demonstrate that it
can.
At the turn of the
millennium, its reputation was as a dumping ground for buses filled
with slots-addicted day trippers. And no maw in Atlantic City was
more welcoming to this breed of gambler than Harrah's.
I visited Atlantic
City last week and saw new towers under construction at several
properties, including Harrah's. This surprised me since Atlantic
City has recently seen intense competition for the day-tripping
slots gambler. I asked Harrah's general manager, Scott Barber, why
he's investing so much just as his market is being
diluted.
The new towers, he
answered, are in response to the competition. The new Harrah's was
targeting a different market.
Harrah's has been
inspired by the popularity of its newest neighbor, the Borgata,
which brought Las Vegas' post-thematic sensibilities to
play.
Harrah's dream is now
to attract Wall Street types, to trade up from leisure suits to
Armani, from blue hairs to blue bloods. Harrah's is building
another tower because it is targeting guests who will stay
overnight.
To this end, working
sometimes in concert with the Borgata and the Atlantic City CVB,
the company has mapped a plan to upend the reputations of both the
city and its own brand. Harrah's, its sister resort, Caesars, and
the Borgata have invested millions in a collaboration with NJ
Transit to open an express train route from Manhattan to Atlantic
City that will begin operations next spring.
In preparation for
the hoped-for invasion of brokers and bankers, the shops in
Harrah's-owned properties have been upgraded. The company bought
the storied Atlantic City Country Club so hotel guests could play
quality golf. Showboat, also owned by Harrah's, opened a House of
Blues. A Red Door Spa has opened at Harrah's, just a chip's throw
from a very cool night club called The Pool.
In other words, it's
not your grandmother's Atlantic City.
Still, Harrah's
success in changing its reputation may be tied to the reputation of
Atlantic City as a whole. It's troubling that only three Atlantic
City properties -- two owned by Harrah's -- signed on to subsidize
the train. The others either are hoping to draft along behind this
investment or simply don't buy into the vision of a changed
Atlantic City. If the latter is the case, that's not a good sign.
The city's reputation will be hard to change if the majority of
casino owners continue to pump fresh oxygen into the status
quo.