Friday, March 26, 2004 Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

SHOW REVIEW: 'Showgirls' retooled, but doesn't seem too different

New version of San Remo magic show tilts more toward the topless side

Tanya Morgan, left, and Robin Miller, right, assist host Kathleen Pedersen into one of the many illusion cabinets that distinguish "Showgirls of Magic" from other topless cabaret revues on the Strip. Photo by Ralph Fountain.

Equality has its place. But you suspect it has been a lopsided battle between those who read the title of the San Remo's quirky little cabaret revue as "SHOWGIRLS of magic" and those who see it as "showgirls of MAGIC."

If you want magic, you can go see Lance Burton, producer David Saxe seems to realize. The latest edition of the revue -- touted as all new, but more like Version 2.5 -- tilts unmistakably to the topless side of the equation.

In the past, "Showgirls" made a sometimes clunky effort to duplicate the big "cabinet tricks" of the larger magic shows. Now it's more content to let its stars play Twister in their Catholic schoolgirl skirts.

The new edition also features an entire dance sequence set to The Januaries' peppy "Black Transmission" that doesn't even bother with the magic. It's not missed.

Not that the whole show would be wise to follow suit. There's something to the balance after all. The dance number is enough to remind you how, probably by accident, "Showgirls" has stumbled onto something missing in the other topless revues.

The magic, generic as it usually is, gives a capper, or "punch line" to the numbers, which tend to lose their purpose and become repetitive in the other shows.

You've seen the dancers in their pink cowboy hats and denim minis cavorting to Kid Rock's "Cowboy." But here, the number is punctuated first by a dancer going into a box that divides her vertically, then by another dancer locked into a trunk to instantly switch places with one standing on top of it.

The latter trick is known among magicians as the "sub trunk." Because it's such a common illusion, "Showgirls" is wise not to build it up with a lot of melodramatic fanfare, but to deliver it as almost an unexpected climax.

And so it goes throughout. Smaller illusions are woven into dance numbers or used to embarrass the men who are dragged onstage for audience participation bits. Most of them don't seem to mind.

Saxe grew up around this stuff as the brother of "Melinda -- First Lady of Magic," and he produced her show at The Venetian after their mother Bonnie bowed out. It was Bonnie who launched "Showgirls" back in 1996, before David acquired it nearly three years ago, gradually improving the sound system and lighting.

He and choreographer Traci Mattea have speeded things up to the point where the whole 75 minutes just rockets along, and gradually stripped the show of most of the cutesiness that plagued earlier editions.

Debuting a "new" version just 10 months after the last one sends a message to the other topless show: What's so hard about subbing new music and choreography every year or so to keep things fresh?

But to say this edition is substantially different is a stretch. True, there are now five "Showgirls" instead of four, and only host Kathleen Pedersen carries over from the last lineup.

The fact that it makes so little difference speaks to the fact that Pedersen is the only distinguishable personality. While Katey Winget gets a couple of comic moments, the other three (Robin Miller, Tanya Morgan and Melania De los Santos) are mostly interchangeable.

The fact that Pedersen is now so comfortable with an audience-participation prediction bit once used by Melinda speaks well of the potential for giving the others more to do as well.

Since this is a couples show, Saxe balances the topless antics with two male variety acts who have become proven fixtures on the Strip. Russ Merlin puts masks on four men from the audience for a comic routine, and Joe Trammel races through a choreographed prop routine that touches on pop culture milestones ranging from Batman to "Riverdance."

It's probably a coincidence that, unlike a juggler or acrobat, both acts are the type that make you say, "Hey, I could do that."

But somehow that seems fitting for a show that's always valued crowd-pleasing more than pretension, and doesn't ask that you respect it in the morning.