Enter, the hybrid of noise
It is a hybrid experience of noise and frolics which is attempting to do what no other entertainment operator has to date even imagined in Poland.
The idea started two years ago when Blue City investor Amnon Shiboleth linked up with Michael Wilson, president of the Canadian-based MagiCorp Entertainment Inc (which was renamed Lucid Entertainment Inc (LEI) on June 17th this year). The owners of the reinvented retail center were keen to introduce a new concept to the top floor of the center which would depart from the multiplex/bowling norm found in myriad shopping malls the world over, and the discussions between Shiboleth and Wilson led to the creation of the boisterous package that is Magic City. Originally, according to John Fisher, LEI's director of pre-opening international services and operational director at Magic City, the plan was to add an Italian restaurant and an Irish pub to the space, "but further investigation led them [Shiboleth and Wilson] to believe that that would be too many restaurants on one floor of a mall in which there were already quite a few," he adds. They instead made the rather extreme mental leap of mapping out a zone for children, which would consist of fairground-type attractions, arcade games and a House of Horror, among other novelties.
What has emerged is a surreal clash of the adult, infant and juvenile in a barely segregated recreational space, which endears with the chuckles of gamboling toddlers in the Inca Play area, erupts with the zapping, gurgling and pounding of the arcade and then soothes with the dimly-lit serenity of the restaurant. A startling concept by most standards, one of the obvious challenges is how to manage sound and prevent the whole adventure degenerating into an unholy din.
The Lucid nightclub is an innovation that seems shockingly bold and almost invites failure. The popular perception of the nightclub is arguably a place young adults go to unravel energetically to loud music and alcohol in stand alone premises with no other distractions. Negotiating a deserted shopping center with clothes store mannequins staring at you before you get to the club doesn't sound like entertainment: it sounds more like the House of Horror. And given that Magic City sits up in the dizzy heights of Blue City, that potentially grim journey is unavoidably long. John Fisher, however, believes that it is the very mystery of the 'experience' as he likes to describe Magic City, is what has already and will continue to pull in the punters. "If the image and attitude is right," he states simply, "people will find their way." He adds that the first weekend drew in 3,000 people. "They're finding us," he says, "they're surprised at what they see and we're doing a good job at giving them what they want."
Blue City has always been marketed as more than just another shopping center. Brash in its claims and endeavor, it provoked stampedes when it opened in April, boasted about its Home City section at the time and has been giving Magic City the hard sell for some months now. Open and buzzing, (audibly), that supposed trailblazer has launched itself well off the starting blocks. We now await the fanfare to announce the opening of Auto City, another retail/leisure brainwave: a gathering of car dealerships under one roof (no such project exists anywhere in Europe), which has been promised for some time now but has as yet not been delivered. Can the shopping center brand ever stretch itself too far? Magic City, as its name and location suggest, contends that the sky's the limit.
The idea started two years ago when Blue City investor Amnon Shiboleth linked up with Michael Wilson, president of the Canadian-based MagiCorp Entertainment Inc (which was renamed Lucid Entertainment Inc (LEI) on June 17th this year). The owners of the reinvented retail center were keen to introduce a new concept to the top floor of the center which would depart from the multiplex/bowling norm found in myriad shopping malls the world over, and the discussions between Shiboleth and Wilson led to the creation of the boisterous package that is Magic City. Originally, according to John Fisher, LEI's director of pre-opening international services and operational director at Magic City, the plan was to add an Italian restaurant and an Irish pub to the space, "but further investigation led them [Shiboleth and Wilson] to believe that that would be too many restaurants on one floor of a mall in which there were already quite a few," he adds. They instead made the rather extreme mental leap of mapping out a zone for children, which would consist of fairground-type attractions, arcade games and a House of Horror, among other novelties.
What has emerged is a surreal clash of the adult, infant and juvenile in a barely segregated recreational space, which endears with the chuckles of gamboling toddlers in the Inca Play area, erupts with the zapping, gurgling and pounding of the arcade and then soothes with the dimly-lit serenity of the restaurant. A startling concept by most standards, one of the obvious challenges is how to manage sound and prevent the whole adventure degenerating into an unholy din.
The Lucid nightclub is an innovation that seems shockingly bold and almost invites failure. The popular perception of the nightclub is arguably a place young adults go to unravel energetically to loud music and alcohol in stand alone premises with no other distractions. Negotiating a deserted shopping center with clothes store mannequins staring at you before you get to the club doesn't sound like entertainment: it sounds more like the House of Horror. And given that Magic City sits up in the dizzy heights of Blue City, that potentially grim journey is unavoidably long. John Fisher, however, believes that it is the very mystery of the 'experience' as he likes to describe Magic City, is what has already and will continue to pull in the punters. "If the image and attitude is right," he states simply, "people will find their way." He adds that the first weekend drew in 3,000 people. "They're finding us," he says, "they're surprised at what they see and we're doing a good job at giving them what they want."
Blue City has always been marketed as more than just another shopping center. Brash in its claims and endeavor, it provoked stampedes when it opened in April, boasted about its Home City section at the time and has been giving Magic City the hard sell for some months now. Open and buzzing, (audibly), that supposed trailblazer has launched itself well off the starting blocks. We now await the fanfare to announce the opening of Auto City, another retail/leisure brainwave: a gathering of car dealerships under one roof (no such project exists anywhere in Europe), which has been promised for some time now but has as yet not been delivered. Can the shopping center brand ever stretch itself too far? Magic City, as its name and location suggest, contends that the sky's the limit.
