Living in Las Vegas pretty much entails leapfrogging from one climate-controlled cube of constructed space to another — home to car to office to bar to restaurant to mall to this or that concert venue or family attraction. That sounds bleak and lame, but I’m down with it. The great stupid genius of this city is in its stubborn, hubristic terraforming, and I say let’s celebrate it. Honestly, I’m waiting for the day we just clap a giant dinner bell over everything from Summerlin to Sunrise Manor and make the whole place an immersive, walkable, urban-themed terrarium experience that in a delightful Borgesian twist is, ta-da, indistinguishable from a real city.
Until then, one of my hobbies is enjoying our many richly fake spaces à la carte (shouts to the Bellagio Conservatory, Springs Preserve, Fashion Show Mall), and one of my favorites is Mystic Falls Park at Sam’s Town. Opened way back in 1994, it’s a massive cliff waterfall guarded by animatronic bears, wolves, owls, and mountain lions, all set up in a misty, jungly atrium ringed by shops and restaurants. But it’s during the daily light-and-water show that Mystic Falls truly comes alive. The funny thing about artifice is how it insists upon itself (to beat a dead meme) — and in that very insistence bursts its own seams and becomes kind of silly. During its daily show, Mystic Falls does just that, burgeoning into a kind of volcanic spasm of fervid, apocalyptic camp as the music booms and laser lights slash across the dancing spouts of water, and the robot menagerie erratically sways and poplocks to the echoing beat. This is the great, nightmarish indoors, and it is quintessentially Vegas.
So, yeah, Mystic Falls is philosophically chewy, but I should also say that on a practical level, it’s also a fun hang. There’s a cozy atrium bar that’s a fine perch for catching a buzz while catching the show, and don’t sleep on the underrated Angry Butcher Steakhouse if you want dinner with ringside seats. Mystic Falls’ holiday-themed show runs through Dec. 23, but don’t fret if you miss it. Its “standard” show is a fanciful riot of New Age synth fugues, dancing kokopellis, and echoey eagle screeches — and is as real fake-Vegas as it gets.
