Friday, July 25, 2003 Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

SHOW REVIEW: `Siegfried & Roy' a welcome reminder of old Vegas

Venerable magic act bridges gap between city's past and present

Siegfried and Roy perform their magic act at The Mirage.

So much for objectivity.

There comes a point in every "Siegfried & Roy" show in which Siegfried (who eternally must be identified as the fair-haired one) greets audience members and typically offers this durably endearing chestnut in his still-thick German accent:

"Ees that your wife, or are you here on beez-ness trip?"

But on a recent night, Siegfried knew I was in the audience to give the show a long-overdue reappraisal. "There is a line I have used for the past 30 years," he said to the target couple. "And it would be perfect right now but there is someone here waiting for me to say it."

Never mind that another 1,000 or more people didn't know what the master magician was talking about, or that it was former Review-Journal columnist Michael Paskevich who actually heckled the line in print back in 1993. That's OK; we both heckled it out of print.

The point is, I had been wondering how I could take a detached look at the once-groundbreaking spectacle at The Mirage when I've covered the duo since 1987. I enjoy our chats, and feel I know and understand them as well as anyone can know and understand multimillionaires who live in "jungle palaces" and breed white tigers in their off hours.

So here's where I draw the line of objectivity: Siegfried and Roy are the only stars who have the last foot in the old Vegas and the first foot in the new Vegas. The latter used to matter more; now it's the former, for reasons that may impress me more than you.

The debut of this production in February 1990 (I covered that, too) was revolutionary. You have to understand this was the first permanent show on the Strip to have computerized lighting. The domed stage design eliminated the psychological barrier to the audience (even if it stopped short of what would be the next step, losing the awkward tables and booths in favor of theater seats).

To see how well the design seems to draw people into the action, you need only go next door to Caesars Palace. Celine Dion's 40-yard stage is only slightly wider, but engulfs the performance and distances much of the audience.

Onstage, however, much of what once was unique is now expected. Some of the costume designs by John Napier ("Cats," "Starlight Express") still surprise. But many of the pastel dancers or hooded Druids were so folded into the fabric of Cirque du Soleil or "Lord of the Dance" -- not to mention bygone shows such as "EFX" or "Imagine" -- they became almost stock visuals.

The flip side is that the trappings no longer distract from the best parts: the animals and the two stars.

I used to think this show was severely front-loaded. The first 30 minutes are a thundering stage spectacle, recasting the Vegas veterans as Wagnerian superheroes in a comic-book fantasy.

It's a frenetic sensory bombardment as Siegfried and Roy repeatedly vanquish the Evil Female (Lynette Chappell, who goes back with them to the '70s), transferring her from an aquarium to a glass box and then turning her into a white tiger, or turning her into Roy after she tries to beguile Siegfried.

This sequence with a giant mechanical dragon, which appears to crush the dynamic duo in twin cannisters like so many recyclable soda cans, once left the rest of it with seemingly nowhere to go.

But even in 1990, the mock heroics were an odd fit for an amiably loopy Las Vegas specialty act. And as the technology became more routine during the past 13 years, Siegfried and Roy themselves became even more famous, more iconic. Now, maybe I'm not the only one who better appreciates the more leisurely middle sequence in which the two chat up the audience, draft a "volunteer" to help with a rope trick and show home movies of their white tigers.

The two are the target of many a punch line, but many more people through the years have bought into their upbeat, carefree sense of karma. There's a reason for Siegfried and Roy to lead such a merry life, whether it's to save white tigers or to make little old ladies happy. They're still in good shape, and still muster a convincing level of enthusiasm when they're onstage.

And ultimately it's still a good magic show. The illusions you see in other shows are bigger and better when they involve 400-pound tigers or white lions. And some, such as Roy floating in a giant womblike bubble, you just don't see anywhere else.

Bottom line: The seemingly ageless duo (Roy's pushing 60; Siegfried is already beyond it) can squeak by with the current show for another year or two, no problem. But because ticket prices have always gone up, not down, they owe fans an overhaul if they're looking at another five or more.

The latest project to further the duo's legacy is an upcoming computer-animated sitcom, "Father of the Pride," in which the likes of John Goodman and Carl Reiner will provide voices for the white tigers.

It could be just the road map for ditching some of the rock concert bombast and honing in on what's really quirky and unique about this Las Vegas institution.