Anyone driving into Atlantic City these days is greeted by a beautiful black-and-white billboard of a particularly buxom-looking Beyoncé, who will perform at the grand opening of the city’s newest resort on May 25. The billboard stands out for its simplicity, a breeze of civility in a forest of crass come-ons for things like Cage Fury Fighting Championships at Borgata, or off-price rooms at the flailing Trump Taj Mahal.
The newest resort is Revel, situated on the historic Atlantic City boardwalk. On paper, Revel sounds fantastic. Clean, modern design, a hotel with an almost Zen-like ethos, restaurants from high-profile chefs up and down the Eastern Seaboard. Washington DC’s Michel Richard. Philadelphia’s own Iron Chef, Jose Garces. New York’s Marc Forgione (also an Iron Chef) and Alain Allegretti. Nightlife, a pool club and talent booking are in the hands of Las Vegas powerhouse Angel Management Group. Revel, we are being told, heralds the dawn of a brand-new day for Atlantic City.
In other words, that old tune. For years now, Atlantic City has promised us that it wants to and is going to change. It’s going to clean itself up and be everything we always wanted it to be. Back in 2003, when Borgata opened out in the remote Marina District, similar promises were made. And with a few tweaks, Borgata could have passed for something on a respectable stretch of the Las Vegas strip. Soon after, Tropicana unveiled the Quarter, which was supposed to bring a big-deal restaurant and nightlife scene to the Boardwalk. It didn’t. Then there was the Water Club, Borgata’s non-gaming tower. Caesars promised us Vegas-level stores, dining and fun with its Pier Shops. Harrah’s launched a nightlife program around its famous domed pool. The now de-flagged Hilton brought in celebrity chef Kerry Simon. The Chelsea boutique hotel partnered up with Philadelphia restaurant mogul Stephen Starr for — you guessed it — a whole new kind of Atlantic City experience. Starr later leaving the Chelsea was just one of Atlantic City’s many flameouts. As was the canceled ACES train, which was supposed to bring young scenesters to town. Except that young scenesters didn’t want to come to town.
Who wanted to come to town? People in pajama jeans, clutching bus tickets and clamoring for their slot credits. In other words, the same people who have always been coming. The same people who you now see at Borgata much of the time. At Caesars. At Harrah’s. At, well, everywhere in town.
What makes Revel think it can succeed where everyone else has tried and barely succeeded, if not flat-out failed? Who knows. But after the completion of one of the largest government make-work projects New Jersey has ever seen, here it is, open to the public for an eight-week preview.
Located at the northern end of the developed section of the boardwalk, right on the water but pleasantly distant from its nearest neighbor, the grimy Showboat resort, Revel is enormous. It is a lot of glass and steel. Soaring public spaces. Minimalist, modern design. It immediately calls to mind CityCenter in Las Vegas.
This is not a compliment. What this means is that there are too many spaces that are gratuitously and bewilderingly large, odd curvature in the architecture that creates an abundance of blank space — even beyond the blank space that’s only temporary as the resort slowly rolls out venues over the next couple months — and confusing angles.
(One difference from CityCenter: The casino floor itself is so jammed with gaming machines that navigating it can be difficult. At least the poker room — big but not as impressive as Borgata’s high-ceilinged poker room — is upstairs.)
Entertainment-wise, things look strong, with a roster of cool indie bands at the casino floor-adjacent Social lounge. (Danish rock act The Raveonettes played a fantastic set in front of a largely uninterested crowd on opening night last Monday.) Upstairs is the Ovation Hall theater, which is trying things out with the Black Keys and Maroon 5 a week before Beyonce arrives.
Food-wise, Revel has potential. Experienced restaurant boss Antonello Paganuzzi — formerly at Bellagio, Wynn Las Vegas and the Scarpetta empire — and New York’s LDV Hospitality have already opened up Lugo, a solid pasta spot with contemporary cooking that lives happily on a menu next to the red-sauce fare any Italian restaurant is compelled to serve in South Jersey. And LDV is also about to open Forgione’s American Cut steakhouse and the Azure by Allegretti seafood restaurant.
Also on the way are Central Brasserie from Richard (who recently opened his 24-hour Central Michel Richard at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas), three venues from Garces and more. Unfortunately, however, restaurants are bunched up on a corridor that can take some effort to find — another negative Revel has in common with CityCenter’s Aria resort.
Revel isn’t for anyone who’s afraid of heights. The hotel lobby itself is a long and potentially terrifying escalator ride up from street level, through a vast, uninspired atrium.
It’s worth the trip up; here’s where you find Revel’s best feature, the sprawling SkyGarden. Up here, just out the doors from the lobby (also too big for no reason) and 114 feet above sea level, are 2 acres of landscaping and pleasant seating areas, some with fire pits. There are beautiful ocean and skyline views; the crashing waves of the Atlantic provide a white-noise soundtrack.
It’s an amenity a Las Vegas resort could only dream of — a place that if magically transported to Las Vegas would be a place where a sea of well-dressed Angelenos on the make would bring their dates and their good-looking friends for champagne-drenched nights dancing to the beat of some cool DJ out of Europe.
But this isn’t Las Vegas. Last week, the action in the SkyGarden was, well, typical Atlantic City. A lot of poorly dressed people used the place as a smoking porch and were chased around by security guards trying to get them to stub out their butts. This is what happens when you create the first non-smoking casino in Atlantic City. People wearing tracksuits are going to go outside, to the best part of your resort, light up and then get into heated discussions with your surly staff (an Atlantic City mainstay).
Which basically sums up what is wrong with Atlantic City. It can never be like Las Vegas because the kind of people that have made Las Vegas such a fun place to be in recent years simply are not going to Atlantic City. And they probably never will.
With little reason to stick around at Revel, which has yet to open its bigger nightlife venues, we ditched and headed over to Borgata. DJ Vice was hosting the “I Love House” event at the Mur.mur nightclub. Yet another thing that looks great on paper. In reality, the scene ended up being about as tepid as a steam table at a Midtown deli that’s about to get DOH’d.
Looking for some action in the poker room, we were surprised to find the high-limit area almost empty. At which point we seriously debated ditching town entirely, except that it was around midnight and neither of us felt like driving back home.
It has now been approximately 10 years since this massive attempt to get the world to pay attention began in earnest. And maybe Revel could be the one. But there have been so many others before it. It’s hard to know.
Perhaps it’s time to stop trying so hard. Atlantic City — we’re just not that into you.
Learn more about Revel at revelresorts.com.