Every trend has a countertrend, even in a city that loves to take things over the top.

"In Vegas, everything's big and elaborate and overdone -- and in my opinion, sometimes to overkill," says Bronson Olimpieri, proprietor of The Venetian's V Bar.

"You go to these clubs and you've got chicks in cages, fire shooting out, waterfalls. They look great, but in my opinion, that's to capture middle America that's here on vacation."

The Strip's latest wave of reinvention is a batch of new venues attempting to cash in on the big-city preference for smaller nightclubs, variously known as lounges, ultra lounges or, plainly enough, bars.

The rooms vary as much as the definition bends. The only things all the rooms share is that they're smaller than Ra, Rain in the Desert or Studio 54, and that they invariably pursue the in-crowd.

The Palms' ghostbar offers floor-to-ceiling penthouse views that defy all other trends in the nightclub industry. Shadow at Caesars Palace offers female dancers provocatively gyrating in silhouette behind scrims.

But it was The Venetian's V Bar, which opened in late 1999, that managed to draw the velvet-rope crowd without overt gimmicks. What it offered instead was the combined East-West reputations of partners David Rabin and Will Regan, of New York's Lotus, and Brad Johnson of Los Angeles' Sunset Room.

The rest of the Strip took notice. Earlier this year, Andrew Sasson and Chris Barish -- the partners behind the Bellagio's Light nightclub -- unveiled Caramel at the Bellagio and Mist at Treasure Island.

"People think bells and whistles make a club," says Sasson. "Bells and whistles bring someone in once. But then you've got to have the product to back it up. And that is the basic principles of comfort, service and atmosphere."

The 3-month-old Zuri brought a 70 percent sales increase at the MGM Grand with a sophisticated makeover and a new name for a former casino bar. "As we became very strong in the convention market, it was hard for the chairman of a company to turn to his colleague and say, ŒMeet me at the Betty Boop Lounge,¹ " says Gamal Aziz, the MGM's president and chief operating officer.

Late last month brought Tabu into a space at the MGM Grand previously occupied by "Family Feud" slot carousels and a plastic statue of Louie Anderson.

And last week, Risque was scheduled to open as a second-floor counterpart of Ah Sin, a contemporary Asian restaurant at Paris Las Vegas.

Risque and Tabu are more like the bigger clubs in that they do have cover charges at the door. The others have free admission -- "Our type of customers don't buy fresh air," sniffs Sasson -- but invoke the right to pick and choose who gets to pass beyond the velvet rope.

The V Bar's Olimpieri says that in the face of the new competition, he's loosened the traditional Las Vegas dress code and pursued a more rock ¹n¹ roll crowd. "It's a very fine line at the door. We might say, ŒI can't let you in with those tennis shoes,¹ yet I'll be standing at the door in tennis shoes," he admits.

"It's how you put it together: If you look good with what you've put together."

All of the new clubs hope to land the big fish with expensive "bottle service," but most aspire to an eclectic mix of people to expand the larger dance clubs' demographic: "Maybe the 25 to 55 crowd rather than the 21-to-30 crowd," the MGM's Aziz says of Tabu.

Like Caramel and some of the other rooms, Tabu will go easy on the music until midnight or so, then crank it up. There's no dance floor, but the concrete tables are fortified if the rhythm should take hold.