Even before a huge blue bunny in heels cavorts with a burka-clad dancer clutching a smut magazine (and long before it becomes a Hollywood nightclub as traumatizing as any invaded by recent Beverly Hills High grads and their Gamorrean bodyguards), supperclub is a pretty riotous experience; kind of like an adult Medieval Times for anyone tired of driving to Vegas just to find the struggle to enter Drai’s (or Rain or Tryst or whatever) results in more desert douchery than debauchery.
Opened in Hollywood back when most heads were occupied by sugar-plum fairies, this Amsterdam-originated chain offers crazy conceptual entertainment and a four-course meal for $70 per head (alcohol and tacked-on tip extra) and swarms with bachelorettes-gone wild and hard-partying co-workers, all from the comfort of provided beds. The show is part Cirque du Soleil, part art-house decadence, with DJs like KCRW’s Jason Bentley mixing it up throughout. For a place serving a few hundred people at once, the food is pretty good, much like having a name chef catering a wedding. Everyone seems to be pounding alcohol, from the clientele to the skilled performers to possibly the server who played switcheroo with our bill and debit card. Overall, a strong value for an indulgent, entertaining evening with food, especially if you arrive already three sheets to wind. See our slide show for a look inside of supperclub Hollywood.
