Vegas, City of Dreams<\/em>\u00a0(also known, using a loose definition of \u201cknown\u201d, by the alternate titles\u00a0Vegas C.O.D<\/em>. and\u00a0Marked For Murder<\/em>) was directed by\u00a0Las Vegas casino magnate Lorenzo Doumani<\/a>, who has directed nine films, most of which he also wrote, and most of which star his (now ex-) wife, contemporary Christian singer\u00a0Brenda Epperson<\/a>. As one might expect from a straight-to-DVD quasi-religious erotic thriller with incongruous supernatural undertones,\u00a0Vegas, City of Dreams<\/em>\u00a0is terrible. But it\u2019s\u00a0endearingly<\/em>\u00a0terrible, and it stars John Taylor (playing a character named\u2014wait for it\u2014Byron Lord), and thus I\u2019m duty-bound to Duranalyze the hell out of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It\u2019s Christmas Eve at the Queen Victoria Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, and wealthy British tycoon Byron Lord (BYRON LORD!) is pouring out some cabernet for his lovely date, Gabrielle (Carrie Stevens, Playboy<\/em>\u2019s Playmate of the Month for June 1997). He snorts a line of coke off a silver tray while Gabrielle looks mildly appalled, then growls sexily*, \u201cI\u2019m in the mood for love, baby.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n *Oh, that\u2019s a lie. Nothing about this movie, or John\u2019s performance in particular, can be accurately described as sexy. This is a powerfully<\/em> un-erotic erotic thriller, and it\u2019s mostly John\u2019s fault.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A sexy masseuse (played by Baywatch<\/em>\u2019s Angelica Bridges, Playboy<\/em> cover model for the November 2001 issue) pops up out of nowhere, apparently for the purposes of fooling around with Gabrielle while Byron watches. Gabrielle is not cool with this, but Byron assures her the masseuse is only there to give her a relaxing massage. So Gabrielle stands around glumly, on the brink of tears, while the masseuse awkwardly fondles her breasts a bit.<\/p>\n\n\n Byron hands the masseuse a ridiculously thick wad of cash\u2014we\u2019re talking thousands here\u2014as payment for a few minutes of boob-groping. While remaining fully clothed, he has listless, gloomy, clumsy sex with an openly miserable Gabrielle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then he pops into the shower, where he simultaneously: a) gives himself a vigorous post-coital scrubbing, and b) holds a secret video conference with an unidentified cohort about deliberately devaluing his own company\u2019s stock so he can purchase it cheaply later and make a killing. I\u2019ll say this for Byron Lord: Not much of a lover, but the dude knows how to multitask.<\/p>\n\n\n While loitering around Byron\u2019s suite, morosely waiting for this interminable date to end, Gabrielle accidentally overhears the details of his illegal transaction. On Byron\u2019s orders, his henchmen drive her to the Hoover Dam and shoot her up with heroin. Byron calls her on her cell phone to taunt her about her looming death. \u201cYou\u2019re a bloody undercover cop!\u201d he snarls at her, in a line that was pretty transparently added in post-production, before his henchmen shove her over the dam.<\/p>\n\n\n Christmas Day: Gabrielle\u2019s three sisters assemble at the Vegas home of their awful father, Dylan (Joe Don Baker). First to arrive is Jessica (Monika Schnarre, Vogue<\/em> cover girl and Sports Illustrated <\/em>swimsuit model), who is a graphic designer in New York. Within seconds of her arrival, Dylan launches into a diatribe about how much New York sucks: \u201cYou\u2019ve got taxicabs, bad weather, rude people\u2026\u201d Taxis? You\u2019re complaining about the taxis? That\u2019s the very<\/em> first thing<\/em> on your laundry list of grievances about New York, dude? We\u2019re probably supposed to find Dylan down-to-earth and roguish, but trust me, between his quips about how he\u2019s only attracted to women young enough to be one of his daughters and his complaints about how women take their careers too seriously, he\u2019s awful. Joe Don Baker, I expect better things from you. The next sister to arrive is Brenda (Epperson), a lounge singer who somehow manages to rake in fifty grand per gig for crooning syrupy Christian-themed ballads to high-rollers. The last and best sister is TV reporter Katherine, played by Baywatch<\/em>\u2019s Erika Eleniak, Playboy<\/em>\u2019s Playmate of the Month for June 1989.<\/p>\n\n\n Eagle-eyed readers will have detected a trend: All the female roles are played by Playmates, or by swimsuit models, or by people who are married to the director. You might be making some uncharitable assumptions right now, and yeah, you\u2019d mostly be right. With the notable exception of Eleniak, who tackles her role with vigor and a steely-eyed determination, most of the performances are pretty dodgy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n However: All of the aforementioned actresses are better in this movie than John Taylor<\/em>. At the very least, they\u2019re trying<\/em>. Here\u2019s my public service announcement for the day: Directors, do not hire John Taylor to act in your movie, because he won\u2019t do it. Oh, he\u2019ll take your money, and he\u2019ll even show up on set, but he will refuse to act. You\u2019ll get a bunch of terse, low-energy line deliveries, and he\u2019ll look self-conscious and miserable the whole time. I understand the rationale for casting him in this film, believe me: He\u2019s beautiful and ridiculously photogenic! In real life, he\u2019s wildly charismatic! He\u2019s playing a wealthy, debauched, depraved, wine-swilling, coke-snorting Brit who sexes up lots of ladies! This should certainly be within John\u2019s skill set. In theory, it makes sense. In execution, it\u2019s a disaster.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Christmas dinner is interrupted by the police bringing news of Gabrielle\u2019s death. Dylan collapses from the shock and is rushed to the hospital for open-heart surgery. The sisters weep and talk about God for a while (for a tawdry softcore thriller, this movie sure has a heavy hand with the God stuff), then decide to band together to find out how Gabrielle died.<\/p>\n\n\n After the police captain (Tony Plana, the nice dad on Ugly Betty<\/em>) tells them Gabrielle\u2019s death has been ruled a suicide, the sisters visit the eccentric coroner, Dr. Stein, played by Daniel Benzali, who had a moment in the sun back in 1995 starring in ABC\u2019s Murder One<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n Dr. Stein informs the sisters that heroin was found in Gabrielle\u2019s system, and that she engaged in intercourse immediately before death. Or, as he puts it, \u201cI found sperm in her love canal,\u201d because nothing screams professionalism like a doctor who refers to the vagina as a \u201clove canal.\u201d Of Gabrielle, he mentions, \u201cGreat-looking corpse. Perhaps the most perfect female specimen I\u2019ve ever seen.\u201d The sisters are all appropriately nonplussed by this comment.<\/p>\n\n\n Back at the Queen Victoria, Byron meets with the hotel manager, played by the late and much-loved Oscar-nominated character actor Paul Winfield, who is totally slumming it in this crapfest. Byron is suspiciously cheerful and upbeat about the plummeting company stock.<\/p>\n\n\n Byron celebrates his looming financial ruin by getting a massage from a different<\/em> sexy masseuse, Michelle (Joey House), who turns out to be one of Gabrielle\u2019s friends. \u201cYou\u2019re a very attractive, powerful man,\u201d Michelle purrs at Byron while half-heartedly tweaking his nipples. \u201cThat I am,\u201d Byron replies gravely.<\/p>\n\n\n Jessica heads to Lake Mead and finds Gabrielle\u2019s cell phone near the spot where her body was discovered. The last call Gabrielle received before her death came from the Queen Victoria, because Byron, the dimwit, called her from the phone in his suite to taunt her before having her killed. Dumb mistake, Byron. If you ever want to be a world-class murderer\/rape enthusiast, you\u2019re going to have to raise your game. Meanwhile, in a scene that exists mostly to squeeze a few random pairs of bare boobs into this movie, Katherine visits a strip club, where she discovers Gabrielle worked at the Queen Victoria as a private concierge for high-rollers.<\/p>\n\n\n Brenda, for her part, rehearses a song for her upcoming New Year\u2019s Eve concert. Byron, a surprise fan of soft Christian adult-contemporary music, stops by to gush about her performance. Oh, man. This is a terribly unflattering shot. The lighting director on this film hates you, John. Haaaaates<\/em> you. How did you let this happen? This is not the Duran Duran way! Nick Rhodes would feast on the blood of any lighting director who made him look this bad.<\/p>\n\n\n Oh, and then Jessica discovers she has psychic powers when she starts having visions of Gabrielle\u2019s final moments. Sure, why not?<\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s a whole lot more plot that goes on, featuring fleeting appearances by actors who are too good to be stranded in this quagmire (Tiny Lister! 24<\/em>\u2019s Carlos Bernard!), but none of it involves John Taylor, so I\u2019m just going to blast past all of it and get to the good (\u201cgood\u201d) stuff. Having learned that his masseuse, Michelle, knew about his relationship with Gabrielle, Byron visits Michelle at her mountain cabin for a night of weird, awkward, un-erotic kinky sex. She\u2019s bound to the bed, blindfolded, wearing flossy lingerie; he\u2019s fully clothed, down to his heavy overcoat and gloves. While he runs a knife along her throat, she pants and writhes in orgasmic bliss. She yammers on about how he\u2019s totally amazing in the sack, which seems to be mostly wishful thinking.<\/p>\n\n\n Then, while she\u2019s still blindfolded, he shrugs and saunters off, leaving one of his henchmen to rape her before slitting her throat. This is intercut with Brenda\u2019s big sold-out New Year\u2019s Eve concert, in which she sings about God while women in lingerie and angel wings boogie lethargically behind her. Vegas is weird, man.<\/p>\n\n\n Upon learning of Michelle\u2019s murder, the sisters conclude that Gabrielle\u2019s killer is on their trail, so they arm themselves with guns from their dad\u2019s collection. Dang it all, I\u2019ve now watched this film three complete times for the purposes of this Duranalysis, and this is probably just the Stockholm Syndrome kicking in, but I\u2019m starting to become downright fond of our three intrepid female leads, what with their sensible knitwear ensembles and their weird line deliveries and their random psychic abilities and their dubious investigative skills. If Vegas: City of Dreams<\/em> were a weekly television series, I might watch it. And I feel only slightly embarrassed about admitting that.<\/p>\n\n\n Having narrowed their list of potential suspects to Byron, Jessica comes up with a plan to get a sample of his DNA to see if it matches the sperm found in Gabrielle: She\u2019s going to cozy up to him, seduce him, and then bite his neck with a spike-equipped fake tooth hard enough to draw blood. Oh, Jessica, this is a bad plan. There are so, so many easier ways to get a DNA sample, girl. She sends Byron a mash note, in which she offers to be his mistress and encloses a cheesecake photo. She\u2019s addressed the letter to \u201cLord Byron\u201d; Byron glances at the envelope and mutters, \u201cEither a literary buff, or a moron.\u201d Hey, why not both? She signs the letter \u201cMedora Leigh\u201d, which is the name of Lord Byron\u2019s niece and, due to a rumored spot of inter-sibling incest, his likely daughter. At least the movie is sort of obliquely admitting that \u201cByron Lord\u201d is an utterly ridiculous character name.<\/p>\n\n\n So Jessica visits Byron in his suite, where they drink cabernet and discuss Byronic incest. Byron snorts some coke, and then they set about groping each other listlessly (Byron growls out his signature catchphrase again: \u201cI\u2019m in the mood for love, baby.\u201d Nope. Still not sexy, particularly since John sounds like he\u2019s test-driving his best Austin Powers impression). Jessica implements her dumb plan to bite him hard enough to draw blood, which backfires terribly: He figures out who she is, whereupon he has his henchmen drag her off to kill her at the Hoover Dam.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Katherine and Brenda race to the dam to save their sister. Along the way, they call their sick dad in the hospital to brief him on the situation. He volunteers to call the cops, which is an excellent idea. Probably should\u2019ve saved yourselves a step or two by calling the cops first, ladies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Jessica and Byron\u2019s goons arrive at the Hoover Dam in a car. Katherine and Brenda arrive at the Hoover Dam in a car. Byron arrives at the Hoover Dam\u2026 in a helicopter. What the hell, Byron? You and Jessica left from the exact same location; couldn\u2019t you have saved some gas by carpooling?<\/p>\n\n\n It\u2019s a standoff! Katherine and Brenda aim their guns at Byron! Byron uses Jessica as a shield and aims his gun at her head!<\/p>\n\n\n And then Byron\u2019s phone rings. Instead of letting it roll to voicemail, like 99% of crazed hostage-taking murderers would, Byron releases Jessica, lowers his gun, and answers the call. \u201cThis better be worth it,\u201d he snarls into the receiver.<\/p>\n\n\n Surprise! It\u2019s Gabrielle\u2019s ghost on the other end of the line! No, really\u2014Gabrielle\u2019s ghost is calling Byron. Shocked and confused by this utterly pulled-out-of-the-ass plot twist, Byron stumbles backward and falls to his death from the top of the dam.<\/p>\n\n\n Denouement! The three sisters, plus their newly-healthy dad, stand in front of Gabrielle\u2019s grave. \u201cI can\u2019t believe Gabby was an undercover cop!\u201d Brenda says in an obvious overdub, because someone evidently decided after the movie was in the can that having Gabrielle be a cop this whole time would make total<\/em> sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Probably every rock star dreams of playing a sexy, charismatic villain. Many succeed: Bowie\u2019s got Labyrinth<\/em>, Sting\u2019s got Dune<\/em>, Jagger\u2019s got Freejack<\/em>. John Taylor has Vegas, City of Dreams<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Sorry about that, John.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Hey, remember back in 2001 when John Taylor starred as a wealthy, murderous rapist in a straight-to-DVD quasi-religious erotic thriller with incongruous supernatural undertones? Neither did I. Until […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1057,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1051","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-duran-duran"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1051","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1051"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1051\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1529,"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1051\/revisions\/1529"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1057"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1051"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1051"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1051"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"Vegas](\"http:\/\/morganrichter.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/03\/Vegas-City-of-Dreams-Sleazy-John-Taylor-.jpg\")
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