Struggling entertainers start small but have big dreams

Standing on the bed of a truck outfitted for Fremont Street Experience entertainers, her headset microphone first competes with that of a nearby Four Queens hawker. ("Get a free pull, win $10,000.") But the hawker backs off once the pitch begins: "C'mon over, we're gonna start a show in about two minutes. We're gonna be featuring the star from `Secrets' over at the Fitzgeralds hotel. That's Arian Black."

She should know. She's Arian Black.

And before she can do her show at 3 p.m., Black has to do two more shows out on Fremont Street to drum up an audience. At first, people keep their distance. But after a little coaxing -- "C'mon up. I don't bite" -- a respectable crowd gathers to watch. When it's over, Black directs the crowd to her stage assistant, who gives away about 20 tickets to the $5.95 afternoon show. "I do whatever it takes to bring people in -- without hurting people," Black says.

On a good day, the real show will have 80 people or more sitting in the stackable convention-hall chairs that outfit the corner of a former Italian restaurant on the second floor of Fitzgeralds. Other days, there may be only 20 people to watch Black, her assistant Tina (Joan DuKore) and her little dog Sarah, who lends a paw for one trick. But no matter, the show goes on. And when it's over, Black stands in back of the room, shaking hands and even signing an autograph or two while the next star strolls in unnoticed, wheeling a small suitcase full of CDs. He's singing impressionist Larry G. Jones. And while that other impressionist, Danny Gans, may have roadies, Jones hops onto a chair to reposition a stage light all by himself.

The little time

Who are these people?

They're climbing the Las Vegas show business ladder from the bottom rung, but they're not all beginners. Black, for one, has been a working magician since 1986. They are entertainers trying to live up to their locations. The bragging rights of having "a Las Vegas show" are maybe the one thing they have in common with Siegfried & Roy, but it's no picnic living up to the claim. It's tougher still to describe the gray zone between lounge and showroom where they work. Fitzgeralds and Bourbon Street both sport tiny rooms that would be packed with 150 people. At Fitzgeralds, you pay $5.95 -- technically for the drink -- to see Black, Jones or Elvis impersonator Craig Newell. That's comparable to a well drink for, say, an Art Vargas set at Bally's new Indigo lounge.

Bourbon Street's Big Easy room offers a steak dinner in the neighboring cafe with a $24.95 ticket to either "The Soul of Magic" starring Victor & Diamond, or Paull Casas, "The Ultimate Cabaret Entertainer." But unlike the open lounges with their background din of slot bells and their constant comings and goings, these shows do focus a crowd's attention for an hour or more. For Casas, that's enough to honor a pact he once made with his eighth-grade friend Dan Rodriguez in Denver. "Even back then we used to daydream, and say if one of us became successful, we'd help the other one out," says Casas.

Rodriguez got there first. He would rather be a full-time stage magician, but ended up owning six McDonald's restaurants after learning how the company works by doing corporate magic shows. Last year, Rodriguez and his wife sold their Colorado stores and moved to Pahrump, buying one McDonald's there "to cover my bet," he says. After opening "Salsations" at the Fiesta Rancho and closing it two weeks later, Rodriguez bought the light and sound equipment from the New Frontier, the last lounge/showroom hybrid of this type.  

Casas aspired to star in "a Wayne Newton-type show." Instead, he was "seeing (Newton's) papers go by" while doing registrations for the International Arabian Horse Association.

Almost famous

It takes a bit of shamelessness to hang out your shingle in Las Vegas, where ticket-buyers can see genuinely famous people. That's why Gene Sagas, director of facilities and entertainment for Fitzgeralds, was impressed to see impressionist Jones "walk through the buffet and hand out coupons," or stand out in front of the hotel wearing Ross Perot ears. Jones came to Las Vegas two years ago with an act he'd worked up during his 10 years in Los Angeles. "It was slow at first. I worked, doing some other odd jobs for a while." He landed a featured spot in the barely seen "Le Cabaret" at the Plaza before moving over to Fitzgeralds in March 2002. "The Man of 1,002 Voices" grew up in Florida, studied mechanical engineering and worked at it "for a very short time" before moving to Hollywood with a rock band. Jones became an impressionist after answering a "sound-alikes wanted" ad. "I sent them a tape of me singing Elton John and Michael Crawford. They called me up to do Hootie & the Blowfish." No matter. He became a dependable voice for a Los Angeles company that produced radio comedy and song parodies for morning drive-time. Jones was encouraged by Gans' success because, "I'd heard casinos don't like to take risks on new stuff. I thought, `Well, that (impressions) has been proven.' " "I wouldn't mind being a hundred dollar ticket," he volunteers. But for now, he makes due with what Sagas calls "a pittance of a salary" from the hotel. Post-show sales of self-recorded CDs sometimes double his daily pay.

Black also is grounded when it comes to "Secrets," a show she wasn't beating down doors to sell. Sagas approached her at an International Game Technology party when she was doing magic while dressed as Samantha to promote "Bewitched" slot machines. He learned the Edmonton, Alberta, native has been in town eight years, making her living mostly from corporate events and cruise ships.

"I think every performer kind of dreams about (a big show) and wants that," she says. "I think I'm a little more realistic. I know my limitations." Fitzgeralds offers a dry-land gig and a chance to hone her stage persona, which she doesn't feel is yet fully developed.

"For right now, this is good enough. Actually, more than good enough," she says. The exposure has led to offers to do cable TV and a show in Brazil.

After all, Black has the cachet of being a Las Vegas star -- even if the definition doesn't always include working with a roof over her head.