Well Hello, Reno, Hello

America's grandest, gaudiest floor show hits the Sierra Nevada

Once MGM churned out fantasies on film, but now the studios are mostly sold off or grinding out TV fluff. MGM is best known today for its hotels and casinos, lavish Disneylands for grownups with high-roller dreams. The MGM Grand Hotels make dollar-and-cents sense; in the past 4 1/2 years the Las Vegas MGM hotel's floor show has earned nearly $60 million. Some of old Hollywood remains in the new playgrounds. The MGM Grand Hotel and casino newly opened in Reno is colossal: it cost more than $138 million and has the world's largest casino (100,000 sq. ft. of gaming tables plus a jai alai fronton for parimutuel fanatics).

To match the surroundings, Producer Donn Arden has outfitted the world's largest stage with a two-hour floor show to rival the biggest movies in MGM history. He has created similar shows on four continents during his 30-year career as king of showgirl spectaculars. Says Arden: "I find the prettiest girls, put them in the finest feathers and then sink them on the Titanic or burn them up in the Hindenburg. Nobody can do girls and gimmicks like me." The Reno production, his most lavish ever, cost $5 million, but the result is a show that would have made MGM's former titans jubilant. Herewith a fanciful account of how an old mogul might have reviewed proceedings with one of his great showmen from a perch in Shangri-La:

Louis B. Mayer: Another casino! One more shot at bringing back High Hollywood Provincial. What have people got against chandeliers anyhow? Chandeliers are magic, and ever since these multinational-communications and service-industry boys--that is what they want to be called now, isn't it--sold off Judy's ruby shoes from Oz, MGM has been a little short on magic.

Busby Berkeley: You forgot they also sold Astaire's walking stick. Louie, I bet they'll put in red wallpaper and mirrors, and the show will be fabulous. It always worked for us, didn't it? Oh, boy, would I like to do this one. Chorus girls, feathers L.B.M.: Sure, but first we gotta get a gimmick, something to let them know the old lion is roaring again, something bigger than anybody ever did before. Like we put a huge stage in the world's biggest casino, and we lay out, say, a couple of football fields' worth of crap tables and slot machines. A few high rollers will pay for a lot of feathers.

B.B.: All right, let the new boys figure that out. They're already talking about building a bus terminal for little old gambling ladies from Sacramento and San Jose. I didn't know there were 1,500 old ladies a day in the whole country. And what's an RV?

L.B.M.: Recreational vehicle. Trailer to you, and 292 hookups mean places to plug in the lights. But let's get back to the show. We want a real blockbuster, lots of chests and feathers and special effects. I'll get them to build a stage just like the old days --biggest damn thing anybody ever saw, big enough to land an airplane on.

B.B.. That's it! We'll start the show with a jet. Turn up the sound real loud, like a real landing--we should be careful, though, this new Sensurround business has actually made the dice jump off the table--and drag the plane onstage with beautiful stewardesses in gold bikinis on the wings.

L.B.M.: Now you're talking. But then what? I don't think I can stand two hours on a plane, in or out of Airport.

B.B.: Who can? Arden will haul the thing off after a couple of minutes. "Start the show with an exclamation point, get it over with and get it off" is what he always says, and I agree.

L.B.M..O.K., so what about the girls?

B.B.: I can't be there, so we'll get Arden to line up about a hundred of them--nice tall ones or they'll look like pygmies on a three-story-high stage--and about four dozen terrific male dancers too. We need to have somebody wearing white tie, right? Then we get him to take off on some good old MGM movies, say a couple of musicals, an old Gable film, maybe an Astaire number or two.

L.B.M.: Listen, I've got a great idea. Let's show Fred and Ginger on a big screen, have the band play I've Got You Under My Skin and let everybody dance in G strings. What do you say to that?

B.B.: I say let's talk about special effects. What about doing San Francisco, earthquake and all? With all this computerized lighting and scenery elevators, we could tear the whole town down two shows a night. It would be fun to hear people gasp over something besides robots for a change.

L.B.M.: Yeah, but we gotta have some of this science fiction stuff too if we want to get the younger generation. We're not going to spare any expense, are we?

B.B.: Of course not. A really first-class G string can run as high as $750 nowadays, and I'm figuring on 1,300 different costumes, so we're talking big money.

L.B.M.: Then let's do a space scene. Maybe lower some flying saucers from the ceiling, stage a big star war and drown the bad guys under a couple of waterfalls. With the right kind of equipment, we could pump 6,000 gallons and water down every drink in the first four rows.

B.B.: All right, but we don't want people to think we're just a couple of old geezers going crazy over props. We want to have really good dancing, lots of songs, variety acts and a nice big band.

L.B.M.: Simple enough, simple enough. It'll be just like our old movies--as lavish as we can make it. as corny as they can take it and just as great as it always was. We'll take them full circle: call the casino MGM Grand Hotel and name the show Hello, Hollywood, Hello. Why not? Somebody has to revive Hollywood, even if they've got to go to Reno to do it.

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