Editor’s note: This story originally published in 2005.
James Caan is dying to get to his golf game. He’s just wrapped his last scene of the day for his hit series, “Las Vegas,” and is speedwalking across the community college auditorium, doubling today as a nightclub, when he’s stopped in his tracks by something more powerful than a barrage of bullets.
“All right, I’ll hold the door,” he says as a half-dozen scantily dressed beauties enter the makeshift set, each pausing ever so briefly to flirt with “The Godfather” star. “Maybe I won’t play golf.”
The guests, members of the burlesque troupe Pussycat Dolls, are soon on stage, lip-synching and hip-swiveling to their sultry single “Sway.” Waiting in the wings to make a sexy entrance of his own is former “Superman” star Dean Cain, who’s still a superhunk.
Not a bad day to visit the set.
But then, it’s hard to imagine a bland day with a regular cast of headturners such as Nikki Cox, Josh Duhamel, Vanessa Marcil and James Lesure, with outlandish premises in which blackjack players arrive with bombs strapped to their chests, Jean-Claude Van Damme perishes in a motorcycle accident, regulars dine at a topless pancake house and Sports Illustrated model Molly Sims chats with mere mortals.
“When you do a show about Vegas, you can do it about almost anything,” said Caan, after tearing himself away from the Dolls. “Everyone comes to Vegas — kings, queens, gangsters, pimps — so the boundaries are kind of broad.”
Not a sure thing