Dinner At The Disco

It was Saturday night and I was in Times Square to meet friends for a modernized version of “dinner theater” at a karaoke megaplex. And I was sober. Voluntarily. None of this makes sense, I know. But I had a mission, and its name was Spotlight Live.

After watching the live video feed on Spotlight’s sidewalk JumboTron, our party was led through the souvenir shop and up the stairs to where the magic happens. We were given a table about 20 feet from the stage, on which a double-extra-large man in an Atlanta Braves jersey was enjoining everyone to “put your hands together” and clap along to his rendition of “Taking Care of Business.”

Giddy waiters descended on us like a swarm of gay bees, showing us how to use our table’s touch-screen, which warns, “Song choice can make or break you—Choose wisely.” The servers were much more interested in showing us how to text message our neighbor tables than explaining the menu; which was fine, because I couldn’t hear them above the sound system anyway.

Overhead, more than 50 disco balls dangled limply from the ceiling, while the Brave on stage made way for Alex, the most rhythm-challenged rapper on earth. We ordered a round of cocktails while Alex stumbled through the Sugarhill Gang’s “Rapper’s Delight” in front of his captive audience. Although I was hungry, the circus atmosphere me think of those strip clubs that advertise sirloin lunches—even if the steak is top-notch, I’m sure all you’re going to remember is the lap dance.

I later asked chef Kerry Simon, who refers to Spotlight as “karaoke on steroids,” what he thought of the casino-level stimulation competing with his food. “It’s about fun,” he said. “It’s not about a huge dining experience. I’m not trying to achieve a 4-star statement here.”

Still, some of the appetizers  were decent, especially for what you might expect from a Vegas-spawned lip-sync restaurant. The Asian baby back ribs ($12) were tasty and tender, and the French onion dip and homemade potato chips ($11) were more than Superbowl worthy. But Kerry’s famous tuna dynamite ($15), a layered heap of tuna tartar and lump crabmeat covered in chili aioli, was a little too rich for my blood.

While some folks onstage were cutting loose, footloose, an alarm began shrieking. Although we were assured it was a false alarm, a herd of firemen in full regalia soon stormed in with axes. We hoped they would jump on stage for “Burning Down The House,” but no dice. Instead, we got “It’s Raining Men” by a group of birthday-celebrating 17-year-old girls who weren’t afraid to shake their underage moneymakers.

Our American comfort food dinner was eventually served, and it was mostly disappointing. The hamburger ($14) came out soggy, as did the overdressed endive salad ($12). The macaroni and cheese ($6) was bland, and the French fries ($6) tasted like McDonald’s, which can be a compliment or an insult depending on whom you ask. The roasted organic chicken ($21) was good, but overall, the mojitos and margaritas were more satisfying than the food.

But the most satisfying thing by far was the entertainment. My limited experience with karaoke is that it can sometimes be painful and/or humiliating, both for performer and audience. At Spotlight Live, this was rarely the case. Owner Jen Worthington employs a cadre of backup dancers and singers that make everyone look good. Over and over again, numbers that could’ve been just more lame moments in karaoke history were turned into best-of-career performances.

That being sai, after two hours, things started going downhill fast. I knew we wouldn’t get away without hearing a “La Vida Loca”—the herd of Jersey boys in matching orange t-shirts proudly advertising “Corbin’s Bachelor Party” proved me right. As a final blow, we were subsequently assaulted with Abba. My friend Amy put it best: “There are perhaps two kinds of people in the world—those who think “Dancing Queen” is a good karaoke choice, and those who know better.”

So we stepped out of Spotlight into the neon Broadway jungle. We had all had a fun time, and were glad to have done something out of the ordinary. But would we return to Spotlight for dinner? Probably not—now we know better.

­­­Spotlight Live 1604 B’way (at 49th St.) 212-246-2693