‘Little Legends’

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“Little Legends” brought Mini-Britney to town in mid-August. The real Britney Spears’ new album arrived last week. It has been a touch-and-go race to see if “Little Legends” would stay open that long, or if the real Britney would survive to see the release date.

Britney beat the odds, but the little-people parody seems to be on life support; the handful of patrons at the Harmon Theater/Krave club last week seemed to come largely from a Web site that makes free tickets available to locals.

“Little Legends” kept postponing, then finally let fade altogether, the customary media night or open invitation for reviewers. Fine by me. I dreaded having to deal with the apparent contradiction of its very premise: You’re not supposed to make fun of little people in these PC times, and yet the show seems to exist for no other reason.

The contradiction is still there: Preshow graphics projected on a screen behind the stage tell us that it’s not cool to pick up little people or pat them on the head, that they can hear fine so you don’t have to shout, and that you shouldn’t call them “midgets,” “Oompa Loompas” or “gnomes.”

But then the show starts and much of it is not so much sung as danced — to Michael Jackson and Milli Vanilli songs –by a pair of brothers from the Ivory Coast by way of Los Angeles. The impressions aren’t going to put “Legends in Concert” out of business but they’re funny. Draw your own conclusions as to why.

But the whole issue is a bit moot, because the show is a bait and switch. There are four little people in the cast. One of them, Terra Jole, first made a tabloid splash doing her Britney goof in clubs around the country. But before you get to Britters in this show, you see her as Alanis Morissette, Madonna and Cher. By the time she gets around to Britney, the novelty has worn thin.

Besides, Jole has a deep, strong singing voice that’s better than the real Britney or Madonna. That’s generally a good thing, but so much for the impression.

The Elvis and Tina Turner pictured on the outside poster are missing in action, and the show struggles to reach an hour’s length. It’s held together by long stretches of material from host Jeff Hobson, who reinvents Liberace as a comedy magician. I like Hobson, and I enjoyed his one-man show at the Luxor a few years ago. But people aren’t buying a ticket for the Hobson show, even if he is outrageously campy when he suits up as Cher for a bit with Joe Gnoffo as Sonny.

“Little Legends” might play better as an afternoon show, but I have to agree the happy hour two-for-one drinks help it along. Without using the M-word — which wasn’t on the list but I’m sure isn’t proper — let’s just say there’s no yellow brick road leading to “Little Legends,” so don’t bother looking.

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