FABULOUS LAS VEGAS

By John Katsilometes

Monday, June 18, 2007 | 7:18 a.m.

Last night we listened distractedly as a woman was murdered in the next room. She pleaded, yelped and wailed. There were loud thumps and crashes, indicative of angry and purposeful bludgeoning. She may have been crocked with a lamp.

This went on and on as I tried my best to quietly shower and primp for Vegas Magazine’s fourth anniversary party at the Beach at Mandalay Bay. As I snipped plastic tags off new khaki shorts and summer shirts I’d just purchased at REI, the woman shouted, “WAAAAH! STOP!” I slipped into Teva sandals as she cried, “OH! NO! NOOOO!”

I hoped the noise would not disturb the cats, who had sought and found asylum under beds and in closets. I do worry about the cats.

I should note that the murder was staged, as a scene for a movie. I don’t know what it is to be called; “Bludgeon in the Next Room,” would be an apt title. Even though the movie is being filmed right next door, I can’t tell you much about the cast or plot, other than (spoiler alert!) there is a scene of a woman being murdered. But the area in which she is being murdered is not available to us, personally or even visually. The sliding door separating our loft and that room is covered with a giant black drape, which I am staring at now. “Giant Black Drape” would also work as the title of this film, though I prefer “Bludgeon.”

What I can report about this movie is that it is somehow affiliated with a company called Boxie Productions. It was arranged through the landlord of our loft, with grudging cooperation from an independent entity known as “Us,” to use this Arts District location to film “Bludgeon.” It’s been quite an experience. There are cables running along the floor and a cart heavy with technical equipment – monitors and recording devices and such – sitting next to the washer and dryer in the laundry room. Just this morning, I had to move a black director’s chair reading “JR Electric Las Vegas” so I could run a load of whites. Maybe later I’ll take a whirl at editing.

It has been fascinating to observe this level of filmmaking. As members of the film crew set up each day (this process started Friday morning), they construct a veritable buffet of noshes that the lovely Kate calls the Makeshift Soup Kitchen. The neighborhood entrepreneurs, who usually operate independently, descend on the scene en masse and have enjoyed fresh coffee served in Styrofoam cups and Sobe iced tea. Some might even find work as extras if they hang around long enough to blend in.

This ends, hopefully, tomorrow. But “Bludgeon” is behind schedule and likely over budget (keeping the entrepreneurs in beverages has probably been more costly than anyone imagined). I’ll be sure to track the progress of “Bludgeon,” and maybe try to attend its world premiere, which should be near here. Maybe Neonopolis would be a fitting location. But if this film enjoys any measure of success, I will feel faintly responsible.

**

About 3,000 people (that is a pure estimation; the crowd might have been even larger than that) turned out for the Vegas Magazine party at the Mandalay Bay Beach. In one sweeping moment I ran into Frank Marino and Criss Angel. So they are not the same person after all.

To disclose, the Greenspun family owns both the magazine and film festival (though not Mandalay Bay) and I work for the family as writer-at-large for Greenspun Media Group, which owns … me. That relationship notwithstanding, the festival has blossomed into a truly relevant launching point for films of all ilk. CineVegas exec Ian Jankelowitz (who I believes still owes me $40, but I digress) said his proudest moment of this year’s festival was earning front-page coverage in the Review-Journal. As Jankelowitz noted, that level of coverage from a Greenspun rival shows the festival has real merit.

**

Australian/Greek tennis sensation Mark Philippoussis likes my last name. I know this because when I was introduced to him at the Vegas Magazine party he said, “I like your last name.” Whatever, Philippoussis was hanging around the red carpet to promote his upcoming NBC reality show – or is it a contest show? Hard to say – called “Age of Love.” The premise is that the onetime groundstroker will select a mate from a group of 20-somethings, or from a group of 40-somethings. He is 30. Get it? Hi-jinks, certainly, will ensue.

“I’m pretty shy,” Philippoussis said, gazing at the red carpet arrivals. “I don’t go for this stuff too much.” When I asked a tennis question, if Rafael Nadal would ever beat Roger Federer on anything but clay, he reminded that Nadal has beaten Federer on hard courts earlier in their careers (though not recently) and has the ability to rival Federer on any surface. Except, maybe, marble.

**

In last week’s Sunday Times, British reviewer Cosmo Landesman gave “Ocean’s 13” one star out of five. He writes of the film, “It’s as big, bloated and soulless as the modern Vegas (Steven) Soderbergh’s film is set in.” Hey! Who you callin’ modern?

**

On our menus: Ask for the “Crack Wrap” at the Beach Café on Jones Boulevard and Robindale Road. It’s nicknamed such because it is so addictive. It costs $7.95. Also, the Beach Café, operated by the crew that used to run the tail- spinning Coffee Pub on West Sahara Avenue, celebrated its two-month anniversary Saturday.

**

Vegas Moment: At Regal Cinemas Colonnade on Saturday, a man carrying two large buckets of popcorn (which are about as large as a pair of bass drums), a couple of giant drinks and a box of Red Vines, attempting to find his theater. “Can they be any more confusing here?” he asked while slowly turning in a 180-degree circle. True, the numbering sequence at Colonnade fluctuates, and Saturday it was “11, 12, 10, 9, 3, 6,” like that. We saw “Knocked Up,” by the way, and the “Mystere” scene where the two male leads attend the show after taking magic mushrooms reminds me of my quickie review of “Love” last year: See it stoned.

**

PL8 in my head: A white Ford F-150 with CRNBRED.