Nightlife is getting more entertaining in Los Angeles. Seriously. It used to be that a hot spot, some fresh music, and a cool vibe was enough to get party people out. It turns out some of us need more to keep us on the hook, like some actual entertainment before, during, or after the party. We have such ADD in this town (there’s something in the water!).
Probably the funkiest showcase-cum-club night is Point Break at the
Dragonfly in Hollywood. Produced by twisted club kids, the Boulet Bros. (the guys behind the infamous Miss Kitty’s Cabaret that gave artists like Mickey Avalon their start), the Point Break weekly features re-enactments of that classic cult movie every Saturday night. It’s a freaking riot.

A regular cast plays all the big roles from the movie, but they choose the Keanu Reeves character from the audience. They hold up huge signs with the lines for them to read off. Audience participation is always encouraged, and their point is always proved. Even a
drunk chick from the club doing a cold read can do as good an acting job as Keanu Reeves. If you go, make sure to purchase yourself a “survival kit” at the door for a dollar (a raincoat), since they splash a lot of water and fake blood around.
No word on what Keanu thinks of this production. But Marilyn Manson likes it so much he catches shows regularly. After the production the party turns into an electro-kink party, replete with old and new school booty bass music and continuous stage shows featuring spanks for the
party people.
Sticking to high-brow culture, I attended a spoken word at one of the coolest spots in LA. The spot is a “speakeasy” called
R Bar, in Korea Town. You need a password to get in. I don’t remember how I got mine, so just investigate. But the dark and subdued bar comes alive with funky music and oddballs till late into the night. And strangely enough, being that it’s in Korea Town I never see many Koreans. Oh, hipsters…
Now, I don’t go to spoken words. Yes, I’m a writer, I’m a comic, and I love music and art, so you’d assume I have a notebook full of poetry. But I can’t stand listening to wannabe beatniks spouting off prose in some staccato pentameter about how much they’re misunderstood by the insensitive world around them. If they feel the need to get self-involved shit off their chest, write them as lyrics to a rock song and find a band to back you up, cause your poems on their own can be headache inducing; not to mention a total buzzkill. But this spoken word was different. It’s people going up and telling funny stories about their lives, usually party-related. And then they get to play a track off their iPod in between. I played David Bowie’s “Modern Love” over and over again.
And finally, I attended a kind event I have never been to, and probably would never have gone to had it not been over at the historic rock venue,
Key Club. It was a live wrestling show produced by indie wrestling personality Ryan “Smiley” Katz called Fight Night located on the Strip that segued into the more usual rocker affair featuring bands like Phoenix Down. Now, I’m more an MMA guy than a wrestling fan (my mom told me that wrestling and Santa Claus were fake when I was really young, and it ruined both the WWF and Christmas for years to come), but I do recall for a brief period I did enjoy the characters of the WWF Saturday morning cartoon and the ladies of G.L.O.W. And I’ll always love Hulk Hogan. I even partied with him once at Mansion on South Beach. Boy, can the Hulkster drink vodka!

When you see it close up, with a screwdriver in hand, this wrestling business is
pretty entertaining. They actually do slam each other good and I noticed a few misplaced knees really do land on the heads of the wrestlers. The audience looks down onto the ring from the booths and second story cavernous confines of the historic
Key Club, yelling insults at various indie wrestling stars. The shenanigans outside the ring are fairly amusing. This shit is the most interactive thing I’ve ever done.
But the guy who stole the show didn’t wrestle at all. He was a luchador superstar, and according to his introduction, Mexico’s “most successful used car salesman.” He is Manny Peeples. The guy doesn’t do anything violent or acrobatic. Rather, he comes out in his custom-crazy outfit, fashion forward luchador mask, a beer in hand, and offers a few astute observations. He also proceeds to rag on everyone from the hostess, a hot Asian sensation called Kim Lai Ying Ling, to the luchadores he brought from Mexico to wrestle. “I don’t know if these people have Telemundo. Have another beer, it will make sense later,” Peeples told the crowd in his proto-typical accent, to which they obliged.
So next time you go out, pass by a party that is also a show, or a show that is partly a party. It gives you something to talk about when you’re soaking up the alcohol at a late night diner wondering what you’re going to do with your life. I decided I want to dance.