Tangled up in Blue
July 18, 2003

There have never been so many sybarites in one place outside of hell. And that made the July 10 VIP opening party for Blue irresistible. The mammoth nightspot drew 3,900 downtown and turned the blocks around Elm and Pacific into bedlam.

A sudden downpour of biblical proportions (take that, sybarites) drenched partygoers as they streamed inside, turning the evening into a wet T-shirt contest without the option. Bright, shiny sylphs found their barely there wear plastered on and their makeup dripping off.

Blue-print for success: Click here to view a pdf of the interior plan for Blue. (Requires free Acrobat Reader.)

The next night, the club opened to the public. A less comely crowd encountered the usual shakedown-cruise glitches, writ large. (Things you don't want to hear the bartender say: "I don't have any cold chardonnay" and "Where's the no-sale key?") Early arrivals demonstrated an indomitable spirit where comps are concerned, standing in line for 20 minutes for cheddar cubes and chicken wings.

These are the moments we cherish.

Blue is bold: a $5 million bid to keep the lights on downtown after dark. The Main Street nexus of Jeroboam, the Metropolitan, Umlaut and Euphoria has done some of that. Divan and Down are flickers on Commerce. But Blue, a two-story, 17,000-square-foot entertainment complex, is moon-shot ambitious.

DAMON WINTER / DMN
The VIP room is bathed in orange.

This one-stop sensation shop features a 3,000-square-foot dance floor, a VIP lounge, 16 bar stations and, coming later, a rooftop "sky bar" and a restaurant called Kindal's. A 50,000-watt sound system booms through the club. The ceiling is crusted with light-show gewgaws. A 22-by-18-foot video screen commands a raised platform above the dance floor. Plans for Blue include live music and circus-type acts. The proprietors hope to pull 10,000 people through a week.

That's a daunting number in a downtown that even after a decade of residential redevelopment can still look like On the Beach at quitting time. The sidewalks may not roll up after 5, but they start to crimp at the edges.

Blue's all-in-one approach may be the only way to draw that kind of traffic, but thinner-skinned lounge lizards could shy away. One overwhelmed observer, scoping the snaking swell of the crowd up to the mezzanine, the video gadgetry and the orange of the VIP room, mused that "it's a Chuck E. Cheese's for adults." Another likened it to the long-gone Confetti on Upper Greenville.

On the seven deadly sins scale, the Blue opening rates seven of seven (lust, pride, envy, greed, gluttony, sloth, wrath).

It's bigger than ...

This place sure could hold a lot of hay. The proportions are historic. Or, anyway, they dwarf some historic proportions.
• Pantheon rotunda: The Roman emperor Hadrian wasn't so august with his construction (15,828 square feet).
• Sistine Chapel ceiling: Michelangelo had to toss paint across only 5,764 square feet.
• Appomattox Court House: Lee and Grant talked terms in smaller accommodations (3,200 square feet).
• Lincoln Memorial interior: Honest Abe presides over just 9,225 square feet.

No shirt, no service

Legible dressing has passed out of our world. Where once a banker looked like a banker, a lawyer like a lawyer and a mechanic like a mechanic, now everyone looks like an idiot. It's worse in club land, where "upscale" means most of the men are wearing long pants. Blue promises dress-code vigilance in the form of sizable guys at the door wearing earpieces and stony expressions.
• No ball caps.
• No athletic wear.
• No flip-flops.

Hue and cry

No club is complete without its own lineup of gimmicky drinks. Blue's are blue, which means blue curaçao, which means don't be around a conspicuous consumer of these on the morning after.
• Blue Light: Vodka, curaçao and pineapple juice with a pineapple garnish.
• Blue Sky: Skyy citrus, curaçao and pineapple juice dressed with a lemon wedge.
• Island Blue: Rum, coco, curaçao, pineapple juice and 7-Up.
• Long Island Blue Tea: All the stuff in a Long Island iced tea plus curaçao.

Sounds like ...

The mix is the message, getting feet on the dance floor is job one. It's too early to tell for sure what will be on the turntables here. An initial listen finds the music ruddered in the mainstream. Aphex Twin fans need not apply.
• Fridays: Hit Factory, a cheese soufflé from the 1970s, '80s and '90s.
• Saturdays: Code Blue, house and high-energy dance music.
• Sundays: Blue Gone Wild, geared to younger ears for college night.

Published in The Dallas Morning News 07.18.03

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