Inside Las Vegas’s $2 Billion Sphere, the High Church of Screen Time
Las Vegas is a different dream than it was a half century ago, when a jumpsuited Elvis Presley took residency at the Hilton, née International Hotel, playing a string of 636 sold-out shows, retiring at night to a penthouse to order his peanut butter, banana & bacon sandwiches—and, legend has it, shooting holes in the ceiling after picking fights with the chandeliers.
That rogue Vegas charm long ago left the building. This Nevada city has been corporatized and sanitized several times over, becoming a playpen for conglomerates, foreign investors and private equity. It is a town where young families monorail among the bachelorette parties and conventioneers, where the has-been acts have been upstaged by pop stars and the 99-cent buffets have given way to Paris chefs. You can still lose your children’s tuition on roulette and marry a stranger you met 45 minutes ago, but in today’s Vegas, you can also see a Picasso, and Adele.
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