Metropolis, the new three- floor nightclub on Washington St. in downtown Boston, opened Thursday, February 6. 15 Minutes sent intrepid observers and bitchin' rug-cutters Sally February and Miguel Montana to check out the action.

On Decor:

Sally: Gray and blue lights illuminate the expressionistic sponge-painted walls, lending the place an ominous, expressionistic feel. On one wall, the light system projects a swirling iridescent pattern. Looks like amoebas swimming in an oilslick. I think this is the dance floor.

On the Dance Floor:

Miguel: They've got this groovy map of the world painted on the dance floor. Saudi Arabia is definitely the hot spot on this lukewarm planet. From here, you can scan the crowd on four continents.

Sally: There's a serene college-age couple in the Pacific Ocean and a forlorn businessman striking poses in the Antarctic. The whole Eastern hemisphere is occupied by a clique of stationary women in black spandex and chiffon.

This club is not hopping.

On the Crowd:

Miguel: The place has all the ingredients for a melting pot, but the heat's not on. We've got balding businessmen, clean-cut but horny college kids, aspiring models and way too many grinning yuppies. All the groups are isolated, though, and it's killing the atmosphere.

The potential is here. If these people were all drunk enough, they could realize Janet Jackson's vision of a Rhythm Nation: folks from all walks of life united in homage to the groove. As it is, they're all sort of staring at each other.

Sally: Miguel, dear, deal with diversity.

On Music:

generic, throbbing, boring.

Sally: Where are the Pet Shop Boys?

Miguel: Where's Madonna?