Dancers’ talents shine in ephemeral ‘Sinatra Dance With Me’

That’s the mixed blessing of “Sinatra Dance With Me,” a first-rate package of ingredients that ends up delivering an ephemeral experience at Wynn Las Vegas.

For Las Vegas, it’s a double blessing to have the voice of Frank Sinatra back in a prestigious showcase, combined with a rare chance for the Strip to host the choreography of Twyla Tharp and dancers on a skill level seldom seen in the tourist corridor.

Those wondering if this all-dance, no dialogue affair was commercial suicide for Wynn Las Vegas — hotel chairman Steve Wynn’s perhaps letting his love of all things Sinatra override his business savvy — should rest assured this is Tharp trying to crowd-please.

The mostly ballroom vehicle could tap into “Dancing with the Stars” mania, and much of it is played with a light, even slapstick hand.

Nothing overly symbolic here: When a bartender lays eyes on a young ingenue who is obviously new in town (we know this by her small-town attire and wide-eyed expression), he goes head over heels to the strains of “Let’s Fall in Love.”

The dancers are paced by Sinatra’s timeless voicing of the American songbook, with a smokin’ big band adding more than enough punch to keep it from sounding like a “needle-drop” production. The band even gets to strut its brass in a couple of instrumental numbers without the Chairman’s digitalized vocals.

The irony could be that locals — the ones who might have to sustain this show during a five-week stretch of low visitor volume — might wish it was a little more ambitious. Given its Broadway run and Tharp’s pedigree, they might be surprised the 80-minute effort doesn’t take more chances.

They will have to be content with “death-defying athletes who also dance,” as Nancy Sinatra rightly called them after Saturday’s debut. But a few of them dominate, leaving an imbalance to the ensemble placed in a familiar setup: romantic minidramas unfolding within a ’40s-era nightclub.

Perhaps because we meet them first, bartender Marty and the new girl, Betsy (you learn their names only via the program), sustain our affections for the run of it. Laura Mead uses an actor’s face along with her body language for the Hollywood-musical interplay, and Charlie Neshyba-Hodges is simply astonishing in his airborne leaps and pratfalls, all in character powered by the rush of young love.

By contrast, the worldwise Sinatra surrogate and his Ava Gardner are embodied by Keith Roberts and Karine Plantadit. He’s cool enough to hang back, wait to make his play. She’s the tigress who can have whom she wants. Each vies for control in the sexy apache kung fu of “That’s Life.”

Plantadit so owns the stage with her graceful power it’s hard to get interested in the other characters, including a guy (Matthew Stockwell Dibble) who gets wobbly, silent-movie drunk and learns to love the one he’s with (Marielys Molina) after he’s ditched by the glamorous socialite (Laurie Kanyok) who meets her match (John Selya).

Most of them end up shirtless or lingerie-clad, suggesting very busy restrooms in this club.

But it all wraps up before it fully develops. The interest seems front-loaded, with a sense of sameness perhaps due to cuts including Selya’s solo turn to “The September of My Years” on Broadway.

After the first few songs, the Sinatra tunes often seem as if they could have been used interchangeably (for some reason, Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five” lands somewhere in the mix). And none of it really mines Sinatra’s love-and-lost, she-left-with-another-cat mythos.

The “quarter to three” song (“One for My Baby”) is no lonely reflection, but an intimate conciliation for Roberts and Plantadit. And instead of reflecting the romantic resonance of its mirror ball finale, the climactic song is “My Way,” which seems to change the subject entirely.

But Sinatra probably would tell us to remember how it began, not how it ended. “Sinatra Dance With Me” may be just a brief episode, but it’s a skillful confection, perhaps just the right amount of running time between a pre-show salute to the Chairman and a post-show toast to some most-amazing dancers.

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