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Las Vegas Shows and Entertainment:
Sopranos Last Supper Show Tickets and Reviews |
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Sopranos Last Supper
Reviewed July 15, 2006
by Nancy Hruska
After being ushered into the "club" by a thick New York accented, rough around the edges, probably seen a little too much family business girl, it's obvious; we've left Las Vegas and entered the old neighborhood. This is no average show, you can fugghedabout dat.
 Krave, inside the Aladdin, is letting America's favorite Mafiosa family, the Baritones AKA Sopranos, hideout and eh, just take care of a few things. Everyone is there, Tony, Bobby Bacala, Christopher, Pauly Walnuts, Johnny Sack, and Uncle Junior.
And don't forget the women, Adrianna, Dr. Melfi, Janice, Meadow, and Carmella. All of them have two things on their mind- to find a rat and elect a new Mob Boss... Someone is going to be made. But as any good Italian would have it, business always travels with pleasure and the Baritones know how to throw a good party. In this case, The Soprano's Last Supper. Complete with the sexy Bada Bing Go Go Girls, Cop shooting, trash talking, singing, and most important... food; anyone incapable of having a good time with this family can swim the fishes.
Polyester jumpsuits, wifebeaters, cigars, big collars, and gold, gold, gold seem to be the dress code in Sylvio's place. This Mob hideaway owns the word "gaudy" with dozens of disco balls and loud decor. And something says the place is nearly empty for a reason. Perhaps it's normal clientele is there usually to take care of other types of "business." Here the boys get fired up about who's a dirty rat and what it takes to be a real "boss." Guns are pulled and filthy Italian mouths are at their best before they decide to elect someone new. From the family? No. From the audience.
 But not before a few other details are covered. First, a little number by the voluptuous firecracker singer Ms. Dee Dee Diamond. Nothing gets wise guys going like this saucy Italian femme except maybe a lap dance from the Bada Bing Go Go Girls. And who can even think of whacking a rat or Making a new boss on an empty stomach anyway?
Food is served to everyone by the truckload. And not just an average stale Vegas buffet line-up, but food that would make even the Corleone family proud. Three different types of Lasagna, every sauce known to the Mediterranean, Chicken Parmesan, Antipasto, noodles to no end, and real Canolis were just a few of the delicacies fit for a Mob king. But this dinner was no peaceful meal by candlelight. The cast, in their true Italian spirit, visit all the tables, talk way above any normal pitch, and do their best to harass everyone. "Manga!" "What, that's all you're gonna eat? No respect!"
Now, it seems so far, in the old neighborhood, it's the wise guys that make all the noise. But some of the overly tanned, bad mouthed, and ballsy women would beg to differ in that they hold some puppet strings and attitude of their own. It takes a certain kind of woman to marry into this business. Complimented by the singing of "Dancing Queen" and Aretha's "Respect," the ladies reveal several tips on being a successful Mob princess. On clothing- if it sparkles, dangles, or the designer ends in –o-, buy it! On hair- bigger is better. On the right walk- chew gum and strut, and chew, and strut, and chew... On marriage- marry into money! It is after all, not how you spend your time, it's how much you spend in your time.
And now with all the nonsense, singing, dancing, and Tony's shrink appointments finally out of the way, it's time to Make the new boss. One by one, audience members are brought up on stage and tested to see if they'll fit the underworld position. A slick dirty dog is chosen and the partying continues. No one is sitting any longer. The quiet, sly Mob hideaway swarms with a cha cha dance line and crashing wine glasses. The audience can't help but celebrate like one of their own is the new boss.
So one might question: All this fuss, food, singing, and dancing just for this small order of Mafia business? Well, that's how the Sopranos like to do things. If someone doesn't like it, there's a concrete shoe just their size.
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