The charmingly sentimental Italian movie "Cinema Paradiso" captured an Academy Award in 1990 for best foreign language film.

But we're not talking "Cinema Paradiso" here.

We're talking Cinema Pair-a-dice-o.

And, rest assured, these aren't the kinds of movies that usually win Oscars.

Sure, "Rain Man" -- a cross-country odyssey that included a memorable Caesars Palace stopover -- captured the big bronze statuette as 1988's best picture.

And Nicolas Cage took home the best actor prize for his booze-fueled flameout in 1995's "Leaving Las Vegas." But what about the other entries in Cage's Las Vegas trilogy, "Con Air" and "Honeymoon in Vegas"?

They fit much more snugly within the cinematic stereotypes that characterize Hollywood's view of Neon Nirvana.

You know that Vegas.

The 24-hour party town that's in a state of perpetual insomnia, a neon-lit Sodom and Gomorrah populated by heart-of-gold showgirls, heartless casino bosses, desperate gamblers down to their last chip, icy heistmeisters, jet-setting spies, murderous mobsters, murderous monsters ...

And while there's no such thing as a sure bet in real-life Las Vegas, the reel-life equivalent is a different matter entirely.

In between the action and the acting, you can count on a heaping helping of such only-in-a-Vegas-movie clichés as these:

All roads lead to Vegas, not that anybody can follow them once they get here: It seems simple, the Strip runs north and south, Fremont Street downtown runs east and west. So why do people drive down Industrial Road to get to Boulder City ("Fools Rush In")? How can people depart Belz Factory Outlet World and immediately speed west on Summerlin Parkway ("The Mexican")? If you're leaving the Aladdin and traveling to McCarran International Airport, why would you drive past the Stardust ("Midnight Run")? How can a helicopter take off from the Las Vegas Hilton with Main Street Station in the background ("Indecent Proposal")? We could go on, but you get the direction -- the wrong one. Unquestionably the No. 1 Vegas movie cliché.

Nights! Camera! Neon!: Whether it's an eye-popping montage of pulsating neon or the ever-popular driving shot surveying Strip attractions, no cinematic Vegas visit would be complete without an obligatory ogle. Unlike many of the ultrafamiliar elements, however, this one has actual historical value, enabling viewers to trace Las Vegas' evolution. After all, who would remember the Tallyho, a misbegotten resort constructed without a casino, if its long-vanished marquee didn't sparkle alongside Strip neighbors in a "Viva Las Vegas" montage? What would "The Amazing Colossal Man" be without his close encounter with the Silver Slipper's trademark silver slipper?

Crackpot jackpots: Mortgage payment overdue? Down to your last nickel? Where ya gonna go? Las Vegas! Millions of people borrow from the in-laws or declare bankruptcy, but why bother with such prosaic scenarios when you can watch desperate types beg Lady Luck to glance their way? If the movie's out to depict Las Vegas' utter venality, count on Lady Luck to frown, thereby providing a neat moral context. If it's a comedy, she'll smile. Unless it's in Albert Brooks' 1985 satire "Lost in America," where gambling fever grips a nice Yuppie, who blows her family's $145,000 nest egg at the tables, prompting her husband to plead -- in vain -- for a refund of their squandered family fortune. Naturally, the casino boss says no. Which brings us to ...

Wise guys finish first: Not every casino boss is mobbed up, of course. (Not even in "Ocean's Eleven.") But when it comes to silver-screen action, it's not nice to fool with the powers-that-be, who can make things happen with a snap of the fingers -- or a snap of the neck. As "Casino's" resident Tony Spilotro stand-in, Nicky Santoro says: "It's in the desert where lots of the town's problems are solved. Lots of holes in the desert. And a lot of problems are buried in the holes."

I spy: Think Bond, James Bond (the original, Sean Connery) in "Diamonds Are Forever." Think Powers, Austin Powers, spoofing Bond's antics as an "International Man of Mystery." Think Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker, thwarting an international conspiracy in "Rush Hour 2." In between, other agents -- and their more prosaic private-eye comrades -- prowl the town, hot on the trail of assorted Drs. Evil.

Heart of gold: From "Showgirls'" Nomi to "Leaving Las Vegas'" Sera, Las Vegas' legions of leading ladies exhibit enough grit, glamour and/or soulful allure to feed fantasies around the world, whether they're showgirls or ex-showgirls, hookers-turned-showgirls, cocktail waitresses, swim instructors, camera girls, etc. That's hardly a surprise, when the kick line runs the gamut from Ann-Margret to Pia Zadora, Jacqueline Bisset to Salma Hayek. (And, in the demanding role of Bellagio art gallery director caught between George Clooney and Andy Garcia: "Ocean's Eleven's" Julia Roberts.)

Monster mash: Whether it's intrepid reporter Carl Kolchak tracking "The Night Stalker's" Vegas vampire or "The Amazing Colossal Man's" atomic-induced Strip stomp, Las Vegas has long been a magnet for spooky, ooky doings. No wonder Vegas turned out to be the center of the universe when those green meanies from the Red Planet surfaced in "Mars Attacks."

There are plenty more cliches where these came from, of course. Elvis and his innumerable impersonators. Boxing and its hype. The "savage journey to the heart of the American dream" that's been Sin City's calling card long before Hunter S. Thompson experienced "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" three decades ago.

And while it may be possible to make a perfectly diverting Las Vegas movie without any of these bromides, they do serve their purpose.

Without them, how would the Hollywood types be able to tell the difference between Tinseltown and Glitter City?