That 20s Show

Now you take a woman who is red-headed,
if you got what she wants, she's gonna get it
cause nobody knows what a red head mama can do.
(Red head, everybody loves red head)
She's my heartbreaker, I'm gonna make her,
don't you take her, my heartbreaker,
I'm gonna make her mine!
- Nobody Knows What a Red Head Mama Can Do, 1924

My saucy redhead.

"Tonight, we're going to party like it's 1928," I said to my wife.

My wife had been working her butt off, taking care of work and family matters and I had been hustling to keep the home fires burning while she was away. We both desperately needed a night out. Armed with cash from some freelancing gigs, I decided we were going to skip the frugal date night and splurge.

We were going to the Cicada Club.

The Cicada Club is a 30s and 40s style nightclub that is held two or three times a month inside the Cicada restaurant of the Art Deco wonder the Oviatt Building.The Oviatt, completed in 1928, was the headquarters for one of the most prestigious and expensive haberdasheries in the city, Alexander & Oviatt, according to the L.A. Conservancy.

The building is topped with a tower with a three-sided clock Oviatt had shipped over from France. He also had over 30 tons of glass by designer Rene Lalique. Most of the glass as been lost or sold over the years, according to the conservancy, but a few original pieces remain in the panels at the top of the lobby columns. The building still retains the elegant art deco fixtures, stair rails, and molded plaster ceiling panels.

The entrance to the Cicada Club

The building is a jewel and the conservancy includes it in its Art Deco tours on Saturdays, which I highly recommended. But that's a cheap date for another time.

We had wanted to go to the Cicada Club for quite awhile, but the stars never seemed to align for us to do it. When I saw the club was doing a special 1920s themed event that included the premiere of a silent movie about silent movies, we had to jump on it.

We were about to approach the cashier to enter when a group of men cut in front of us. They argued over who was going to pay, with various guys waving big wads of cash around, each insisting they would pay. We're quite irked by this. They bought their tickets and moved on. After we got checked in, we found the same guys blocking the entrance arguing again about who was paying.

The Cicada Club has a dress code - coat and tie for the gentlemen, cocktail dresses, skirt or pant suit for the ladies. Patrons are encouraged to dress in vintage clothing or in evening attire. We opted for evening attire.

We finally navigated past the quarrelsome crowd and into the club. The tables had been pushed aside, and rows of chairs set up in front of the movie screen. The evening's guest of honor, the film's producer/director/writer/star, was called up to do an introduction - and it turns out he was one of the quarrelsome bunch. The movie's cast includes Jennifer Tilly (Clara Bow), Debi Mazar (Gloria Swanson), and Iona Skye (Virginia Rappe).

The director, Alex Monty Canawati, said he got the idea for the movie when he found a bag of film on the street in Hollywood -  two years before The Artist, also a silent movie about silent movies, came out. The movie is about all the scandals and heartbreaks of the stars of the films of the 20s. Not a bad little film. Tilly's Clara Bow segment was pretty funny as was a segment with Tippi Hedren playing a movie mogul's secretary trying to deal with wannabe stars. Some of the other segments were rather sad.  It was next heading for a screening at the Palm Springs Film Festival. It's worth your time if it comes around near you.

After the screening, we were ushered to the upstairs bar while the tables and stage were set up. Earlier my wife had gotten us drinks and the bartender thought the pomegranate martini I wanted was hers. I redeemed my Man Card by getting a Glenlivet scotch on the rocks while getting her gin and tonic.

Where Jon Hamm is sitting is where I was when I ordered the second round of drinks. Only I didn't have the lovely Elizabeth Moss next me. I had the girl and her male friend who was in drag. Both were quite glam, I have to admit.

At 6:30 p.m., we went down to our table. A dinner for two at a table at Cicada Club is going to set you back at least $100, without drinks or tip. For that price, I expect great food. We were not disappointed.

We both ordered the "Trocadero" tiger shrimp, which the club describes as shrimp stuffed with Lump Crab Wrapped in Kataifi (Angel Hair Pastry) with Trio Caviar Sauce.

For our entrees, I had the "Maxwell's Special" braised short ribs, which comes with vegetables and mashed potatoes, and Kim had the "Mr. Tin Pan Alley" portobello and asparagus ravioli. For dessert, Kim had the Cicada Club Chocolate Molten Cake (chocolate Streusel with vanilla ice cream) and I had the Angel's Flight Cheesecake.

Sometime during our meal, Kim turned to me and said "I'm so happy right now." After seeing work so hard the past few weeks, that moment meant everything to me.

Some of that 20s music you hear at Disneyland and California Adventure is by Dean Mora and his band.

 Then Dean Mora's California Poppies took the stage and people took to the dance floor. The band was awesome. They kept to 20s music and focused in on works that were either written in L.A. or recorded there. Here's the link to his webpage, which includes a video of the band playing at Cicada: http://www.morasmodern.com/

The band also played the Red Head Mamma song quoted above. I couldn't find a clip of them playing it, but here's a clip featuring the tune: Nobody Knows What A Red Head Mama Can Do

A couple of years back, Kim and I took ballroom dance lessons. At our peak, we managed a decent rumba, a fair waltz (which was our first dance at our wedding), and even a few basic steps of a tango. We have since, sadly, forgotten everything but a few rumba steps. But we were there to dance, damn it, the lack of skills wasn't going to stop us.

This couple had all the moves.

We faked our way through a few dances, trying to avoid being stumbling into the better dancers (which was everyone). We stopped  to catch our breath and admire the other dancers. We sucked, but we had a blast. There were dancers out there that were sensational. I mean forget the pros on Dancing With the Stars. These guys could knock them down, take their lunch money and not miss a step or break their rhythm. We loved watching them even if they did make us insanely jealous. If you know some swing steps and maybe a bit of the foxtrot, you're going to make a ball at Cicada.

If you want a snapshot look at what the atmosphere is like, here's an LA Weekly slideshow from that very night: http://www.laweekly.com/slideshow/lina-in-l-a-roaring-20s-babylon-at-cicada-club-40158083/

Also, check out the Cicada website here: http://www.cicadaclub.com/main.asp
Their site has all the info: show schedule, menu, a photo gallery, the works. It's a nicely done site.

Kim with Cicada's top man and host - Maxwell DeMille.

We are definitely coming back. There's a Halloween show with Mora's band that we are planning to go to. There's also a show in October with Johnny Crawford, Mark from the TV show "The Rifleman," and his orchestra that we would also like to go to (although I'm worried Kim might try to make him say "pa.")

So how much does this all run? Well, with dinner, drinks, valet parking, and the purchase of one of Mora's CDs, it took us somewhere north of $200. "But, Jim," you say, "this blog is supposed to be about cheap dates. What gives?" Well, I did say there would be an occasional splurge and this is one of them. I do have a few ideas on how you can cut your tab if you want to check Cicada out, but don't want to commit to a full sit-down dinner.

First, you can just get tickets for the show and dancing. That'll run you $20 or $25 apiece, depending on the show, but you can knock off $5 a ticket by buying in advance. Second, we chose to valet park, which is $7 without the tip (we might be cheap, but we do tip well). There's plenty of lots within a block or two of the Oviatt that would save you the tip.

The biggest way to cut the tab is to either not eat at the club or to eat at the upstairs bar. You could split, for example, an order of sliders and an order of fries, which would give you a decent meal at about $20, give or take a buck or two on the tip. The downside is that seating is first come, first serve upstairs. When you shuffle your feet to hit the dance floor, odds are good you'll lose your seat. Depending on how much you drink (cocktails run from $12 to $14), these tips could cut your tab to about half of what ours was.

Look, if you got the money, splurge. This was one of our all-time favorite L.A. experiences. If you have any love of dancing, of L.A.'s history and architecture and it's resurgent downtown, you'll love Cicada.