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Manic desire to entertain pays off for ‘Vegas! The Show’

“Vegas! The Show” is a little more Jerry Lewis than Dean Martin. But Jerry is still around, so we appreciate them both.

This tribute to the golden age of Las Vegas celebrated its first anniversary a couple of weeks ago. It’s a year that speaks to how long and deep is this financial and creative stall in Las Vegas entertainment: The only shows of any budget to open within those 12 months were “Absinthe” and Celine Dion’s return.

“Vegas!” is nearly alone in content as well. It’s a throwback to an era when the Strip was known for big productions with catch-all titles, crammed with everything but the kitchen sink. Now, it’s almost alone as a general-interest revue on the Strip in the old tradition of colorful costumes, striking dancers and time-honored songs.

When you factor out the giant props, “Vegas!” is a better show than its closest comparison, the 30-year-old “Jubilee!” It’s almost a tutorial for what that old showgirl pageant could be if more people actually sang and danced in it.

But you see, “Jubilee!” remains mostly as it was in 1981, identifying the challenge for “Vegas! The Show”: How to interpret with a revisionist eye a history of entertainment that is fondly remembered but would come off as dated and perhaps even ridiculous if seen with today’s sensibilities.

A year has given Saxe time to refine and tweak a title that opened cold and fairly quickly, with all of its trial and error in front of paying customers (sometimes it pays to procrastinate). After caretaker Eric Jordan Young introduces himself in the Neon boneyard, a Broadway musical-style buildup now establishes the principal singers and sets a theatrical tone for the rest of the show to aspire to.

That tone still falters, but more of it flows into that middle ground between old-Vegas eye candy and legitimate theater. Probably by accident, “Vegas!” falls in line with the likes of “Smokey Joe’s Cafe” or “Side by Side by Sondheim,” Broadway shows with a revue format and an ensemble cast in place of stars.

This cast offers a loose history of Las Vegas stage shows from the ’40s through the ’70s, briefly assuming the identities of famous names along the way. And that was last year’s biggest problem: How do you do justice to the likes of Louis Prima, Tom Jones or Elvis Presley without trying to look or sound like them?

If a big sign spells out the name “Elvis,” you kind of expect to see Elvis. But too often you ended up with an “Up With People” tribute to Vegas.

It might be the second viewing that makes this less of an issue, but the singers also don’t seem to fight it so hard. Lou Gazzara (some may remember him back from the second season of “American Idol”) does slip into a Wayne Newton timbre for “Danke Schoen,” as well he should. Just as Gabriel Burrafato can’t do Martin without a bit of raised-eyebrow cool.

It’s still jarring that Gazzara sounds nothing like Tom Jones, but the “What’s New Pussycat?” dancers take to swings — with fur kitty tails, of course — to keep your mind off it.

Saxe also has reconsidered an early resistance to halting the flow for variety acts. What Vegas show didn’t? Joseph Gabriel’s bird magic fits the retro vibe, while the acrobatic Sandau Trio has a bit of unexpected fame this summer, thanks to “America’s Got Talent.” It’s also very cool to hear great live music from behind the curtain.

One thing “Vegas!” doesn’t do is take a deep breath. Granted, it’s saluting a city that didn’t become famous for “under the top.” But you can bet that if Reva Rice begins singing “Blues in the Night” by herself, it will only be moments before two other singers rush out to help, or that a whole crew of dancers will probably be involved.

And why would the arrangements ever scale down to just a piano trio? “We’re paying 11 guys! We’re gonna use ’em!”

Just as a Rat Pack sequence is soon upended by the Jerry Lewis idiot voice, the sense of cool that should pervade anything called “Vegas! The Show” is usually subverted by its manic desire to E-N-T-E-R-T-A-I-N. That was part of the tradition too, I suppose. And entertain it does.

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

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