Changes benefit ‘Absinthe,’ Recycled Percussion shows

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In these terrible times for Las Vegas entertainment, show producers can’t presume anyone will miss you if you leave. In that light, the mere act of reopening after a disappearance qualifies as an epic comeback.

Granted, “Absinthe” might not have closed at all if not for a technicality about the tent that housed it. And at Recycled Percussion, you can hear the sound of the Tropicana marking time while it tries to figure out what else to do with its historic showroom.

But let us not further tarnish the taste of victory …

‘ABSINTHE’

“Transition!” declares The Gazillionaire (Voki Kalfayan at this performance, now played by Matt Morgan until mid-January), an oily ringmaster of the type you might imagine cruising an Eastern European disco.

He shouts this, seemingly at random, to his cute, undersexed sidekick Penny (Anais Thomassian), to set up a joke (not the only one) at the expense of Cirque du Soleil.

But nothing is random in “Absinthe,” unless you want to debate how accidental was the wardrobe malfunction that made Kalfayan go “Full Monty” from his G-string later in the show. (Apparently this was an “extra” for media night since “tucked in.”)

Even before The Gazillionaire said it out loud, I had been thinking about those transitions. The key to “Absinthe” is not the separate ingredients — raunch comedy, circus acrobatics and a sprinkle of burlesque striptease — but how they are combined. Ask any chef, or the producer of many a Vegas spectacular: The devil is in the details and whether it all jells.

The acrobatics, especially, could be dismissed as “ordinary.” Not in your town, probably, but certainly here on the Las Vegas Strip, with its many Cirque shows. But they are more striking for being staged in the round, on a little, no-nonsense 9-foot stage, and because director Wayne Harrison puts them into a context that makes its own weird sense.

Drag dudes in wigs and bras surround seductive dancer/chanteuse Melody Sweets. Funny enough, but they shed that garb to do a balancing act. Same with The Gazillionaire’s two Secret Service-type bodyguards, who strip to reveal themselves as astonishing hand-balancers. Transitions.

You can hunt up the first review from April, but here’s how the show has changed for the new run:

■ The Gazillionaire says “gay” instead of “fag” when picking on audience members, which could be called toning it down unless you win the reverse lottery to be the guy he kisses.

■ Holly Madison sidekick Angel Porrino is now the sexy-cute burlesque dancer in a giant bubble, a bonus for “Holly’s World” fans.

■ “Absinthe” is currently without a skating duo, after the showstopping couple from the first edition agreed to join “V — The Ultimate Variety Show.” Replacements are due next month. Without them, the limited staging makes the acrobatics a bit repetitive.

■ The tent that necessitated the show’s brief timeout (thanks to a six-month limited-use permit) is now a more substantial pavilion. It was more than warm enough on this night, the evening after a windstorm provided a stress test. But most of the seating is on a flat floor, so the sight lines aren’t quite as good as last time. And long rows of folding chairs, with very few aisles, had some patrons doing their own acrobatics to climb over from the back.

RECYCLED PERCUSSION

This hard-drumming quartet is one good thing that emerged from the big mess that ensued when the Tropicana leased its classic showroom to a now-departed third party.

After two months of forced hiatus during the sorting out, Recycled is back essentially as before: a wordlessly rocking, calorie-burning celebration of all kinds of drumming, aimed mostly at teens to 20-somethings. Think “Stomp” with a DJ and electric guitar.

When Recycled first tried to flip its “America’s Got Talent” visibility into Vegas stardom, the show seemed repetitive, as though padding its bag of tricks. But now they speed through it all — the vertical drum wall, the split-apart panel van, the audience “contest” shtick — in little more than an hour. And they’ve packed in more jokes, unless I just missed some before.

And why would I have been distracted from a vacuum cleaner gag, or an “awkward yoga solo”? Because each audience member is issued a drumstick and something to pound on. Powerful diversions indeed.

By the end of the show you may have mastered the beat to “My Sharona.” But it will take a lot of “Rock Band” before you are ready to challenge group founder Justin Spencer and Ryan Vezina in their many percussive duels, including the showstopper staged on twin ladders.

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.