Uncle Ollie’s Penthouse, the brand new maximalist downtown L.A. bar that opened in April between Little Tokyo and Skid Row (a area some have dubbed “Skid Rokyo”), captures the visceral, dopamine-driven alchemy of the very best type of home celebration each Wednesday to Sunday night time. It has wild, color-saturated decor, potent cocktails served in pink Solo cups and a killer soundtrack that conjures up stomping the ground with buddies or singing together with strangers.
However can this multisensory house away from house assist revive L.A.’s fading nightlife panorama?
Beckoning from the second flooring of proprietor Brian Traynam’s downstairs restaurant and membership, the Escondite — recognized for its crispy wings, punk-rock bands and DJs — the immersive “penthouse” was a decade within the making.
“Every time I’ve had fun, I’ve had a red cup in my hand,” mentioned Uncle Ollie’s proprietor Brian Traynam.
“I have an uncle named Ollie and this is his penthouse,” says Traynam of the narrative he conceived for his eye-popping house. “He had to leave town so he gave me the keys and said three things: I know you’re going to have a party here so if anything gets stolen or broken, I break you; if you tell your mother about any of this, we’re both finished. Have a good time, kid!”
Traynam, whose first dive, Bar 107, closed in 2015, says he all the time wished to open what he calls “Bar 107 2.0” within the vacant house above the Escondite. However nightlife has modified lots since then and other people don’t hand around in one downtown bar all night time the way in which they used to.
The idea of a neighborhood dive, the place the identical folks are available in nightly, construct a tab and keep for hours, is virtually a pre-pandemic factor of the previous. However Traynam hopes to alter that and entice a brand new era by filling a void with extra experiential parts than every other bar in L.A.
“Customer acquisition is more challenging now because we used to get a lot of people walking to the Arts District from the Old Bank District or Little Tokyo,” notes the bar proprietor. “No one walks anymore. So we are now a destination.”
On the most important bar, embellished in ‘70s-living-room style, an interactive shot called the Influencer offers a swig of Herradura tequila “and a selfie with the bartender.”
‘It’s a complete vibe’
Stroll up an austere flight of white stairs and a hostess greets you on the (keyhole-shaped) entry with celebration cups, nametag stickers and Sharpie pens to label them with, encouraging intros and interplay with others even earlier than you enter. As soon as inside, there’s a dizzying array of amusements to soak up.
“It’s the best of both worlds,” says native musician Taleen Kali, who simply celebrated her birthday at Uncle Ollie’s, as she had completed at Bar 107 a decade earlier. “You can grab a bite and catch a DIY show at the Escondite downstairs and now, come up to the afterparty…. I’ve seen so many familiar faces and met cool new people here.”
On the crimson-hued, ’70s-living-room-style most important bar surrounded by kitschy collectibles, classic nude work and neon, Kali snaps pictures with an enormous lion sculpture earlier than she and her mates take over the retro arcade filled with uncommon ’70s and ’80s consoles, pinball machines and clown artwork. Later, she’ll dance in one other room to DJs underneath a shimmering disco ball and clean up within the cartoony Hiya Kitty-themed rest room.
The beer menu hangs on a wall at Uncle Ollie’s; patrons taking part in pinball; and the Hiya Kitty-themed ladies’s restroom.
”I can’t keep in mind the final time I felt so linked to my hometown as an L.A. native,” Kali says. “I also love that you get to keep your own party cup all night — it’s a total vibe, plus it’s less wasteful and more sustainable.”
Traynam says that “every time I’ve had fun, I’ve had a red cup in my hand.” Right here they’re stuffed with low cost and cheeky drinks just like the Shaft (Gordon’s vodka, Bailey’s Irish Cream and chilly brew, served on the rocks with a straw), Grandpa’s Ol’ Cough Drugs (Woodinville bourbon and root beer) and You’re My Boy Blue (Ketel One vodka, Sprite, blueberry syrup), all working $9 to $13.
An interactive shot known as the Influencer provides a swig of Herradura tequila “and a selfie with the bartender,” however this funhouse filled with knickknacks and playground-like constructions begs for pictures and movies, regardless. It’ll additionally really feel acquainted to Angelenos who frequented 107 in its heyday.
Recognized for its chaotic inside and wild vitality, Bar 107 closed when Traynam and his former accomplice, Vee Delgadillo, failed to achieve a lease settlement with the constructing’s landlord.
Dramatic decor: A lion sculpture dominates the room at Uncle Ollie’s, situated above the Escondite downtown.
The Spirit of Bar 107
“I knew what downtown was going to become — super-expensive and not inclusive, just like Baltimore, New York and Chicago, where the rich displace the artists and the students,” Traynam says.
Although the “occupation” didn’t final lengthy, it solidified the bar proprietor’s imaginative and prescient for unpretentious and budget-friendly hospitality. Earlier than he was a businessman he was a hard-partying comic who threw legendary DIY shindigs at his Hollywood residence and, later, a home in Echo Park.
The total circle house-party vibes stay on at Uncle Ollie’s by way of the oddball leisure that grew to become legendary at 107, together with its well-liked “Gong Show Karaoke” on Wednesdays, which attracts a wacky group of singers and “D-list celebrities” to evaluate them. Different nights supply retro dancing and stay bands.
Burlesque performer Trauma Boner on a latest night time at Uncle Ollie’s.
Irreverent new burlesque nights function famend dancers from venues like Jumbo’s Clown Room and El Cid. Performer and promoter Vanessa Burgundy has been tasked with placing a brand new spin on the artwork of striptease right here, and thus far her month-to-month residency, known as That Time of the Month, has greater than delivered.
“Brian’s original idea for my night was kind of like a Beacher’s Madhouse style setup, you know, just kind of mayhem,” Burgundy recollects. “But ultimately his only guidance for me has been, ‘make it weird.’”
Burgundy’s unstructured gatherings, that includes unique Bar 107 DJ Morgan Higby Knight, have boasted loads of rock ‘n’ roll-fueled debauchery — from an eclectic Easter present that includes female and male dancers disrobing bunny fits and nun garb, respectively, to a spectacle devoted to the music and mayhem of not too long ago departed icon Ozzy Osbourne and his band Black Sabbath (the venue was dubbed “Uncle Ozzy’s Penthouse” for the night time).
A present was devoted to the late rock icon Ozzy Osbourne and his band Black Sabbath (the venue was dubbed “Uncle Ozzy’s Penthouse” for the night time).
There’s no scarcity of promoters who need the figurative “keys” to the penthouse, however getting patrons in has had some hurdles Traynam didn’t count on. The bar was open for simply two months when Mayor Karen Bass applied curfews downtown due to ICE raids and protests, which he says harm its momentum. He additionally notes that companies are nonetheless navigating nightlife shifts post-pandemic as properly.
“Everyone has curtailed their spending habits after COVID,” he says. “Also FOMO [fear of missing out] no longer exists. Now people are used to being at home, watching Netflix, ordering GrubHub and just chilling out. They don’t care as much about going out.
“L.A. really needs to have fun again,” Traynam mentioned. “So we’re banking on a reset. We’re banking that in these times, people need to get out of their own heads and get out of their apartments. That’s why we’re offering cheap drinks, a photo booth, dance floor and no cover most nights…. Uncle Ollie’s is a blast from the past, but it’s also about the future, where the party is about you and your friends, not the people behind the bar.”
Lina Lecaro is the creator of “Los Angeles’ Best Dive Bars- Drinking & Diving in the City Of Angels.”
