Humor, handstands set second Aussie revue apart

I’m not talking about male G-string revues in general. Either you’re into them or you’re not. And if your orbs head for the ceiling tile at the mere mention of a sweaty dude thrusting his pelvis into some bridesmaid’s face, I doubt you’ve even read this far.

No, I’m talking about an annoying axiom of Vegas show business. If one nude-dude revue sells tickets, then why not three? And don’t stop there. If one of them is specifically an Australian G-string show, then why not double down on those as well?

So when “Aussie Hunks” set up at the D to perhaps trade on confusion with “Thunder From Down Under”… well, as our moms used to say, “Be careful or your eyes might get stuck in that position.”

Even though we all like to make fun of federal bureaucracy, it sounded like the Bureau of Consular Affairs was doing its job when, as producer Johnathan Weinstock explained on opening night, it took six months for this troupe to prove its services were unique enough to merit visas.

The pleasant surprise, though? Australia is a big country. Big enough, anyway, for “Hunks” to have some ideas of its own and not play entirely like it took notes on the competition and is checking off a list of tropes: the firefighters, construction workers, etc.

To be sure, there’s enough peace officers and men in uniform in this one too. But at least two things also set it apart. The first is something I wasn’t previously familiar with: “Erotic hip-hop,” as emcee Adam (using only first names to preserve that last thong of modesty) calls it.

Erotic hip-hop seems to mean that the dancers are leaner, more ripped and less pumped up than the usual beefcakes. And that they do handstands. And if that still doesn’t seem entirely erotic, know that their athleticism gives them the ability to stand on their hands, then walk on them all the way to the audience gal they’ve pulled onstage before grinding on her in the established method of all G-string shows.

The other distinction is the odd sense of humor. “Thunder” also has an affable “G’day mate” attitude, but it does not have a dancing teddy bear.

That’s right. Not sure if the bachelorette parties knew they were in for a dude (Tommy, if you care) steppin’ out in a full-sized teddy bear costume, but there you go. The Chippendales have Tyson Beckford in through Sept. 27, but they do not have a dancing teddy bear.

The same attitude applies to a “Tron” number with Lenny and Daisuke taking a cue from the Jabbawockeez and cavorting in black-light costumes. The media-night crowd seemed down with this arthouse scene. But if this is the only important piece of consumer information that matters, here it is: the first bare butt doesn’t show up for a half-hour.

The show also took its sweet time to get in high gear on this symbolic opening night. Let’s hope the interminable video montage — which establishes the dancer’s bona fides on “Australia’s Got Talent” and “So You Think You Can Dance Australia” — would usually play as the crowd is still being seated, not as part of the official running time.

Adam almost seemed to be vamping for time, covering for some backstage mishap, given the lapses between the first few numbers. But maybe they just wind up a bit slower Down Under. Once things hit their stride, one guy named Dazza moved so fast, he had time to visit the audience tables for not one, but two women to escort onstage. Then he came back and danced for a dude, all before his song ended.

And speaking of Friends of Dorothy: Not sure if the Chippendales and “Thunder” are now doing this as well, but this is the first male revue I’ve ever seen to haul a man to the stage and “give him the business” that’s been previously reserved for the ladies.

Well, hey, why not? This is the year of marriage equality, and if doing a chair dance for a handsy dude sells tickets, you can bet your soapy sponge that we’ll probably see a fourth male revue to tap this expanded audience. If nothing else, the camp humor of gay guys increases the odds of appreciating the dancing teddy bear.

Read more from Mike Weatherford at bestoflasvegas.com. Contact him at mweatherford@reviewjournal.com.