Las Vegas shows usually aren't considered to be works by artists of singular vision.

Casino productions aim to put as many bodies in seats as possible. If this was Hollywood, most Las Vegas producers would rather have "The Longest Yard" remake than the work of an auteur such as David Lynch or Pedro Almodovar, directors whose quirks delight avid followers even as they puzzle or irritate the masses.

If you look around the Strip these days you can find at least three shows with a variation of the auteur theory. They were created by people who so believed in what they were doing that they never questioned whether the product would be commercially viable.

Two of them -- "The Fashionistas" and "Tropical Passions" -- are the works of wealthy entrepreneurs making personal dreams come true. The third, "Le Reve," is more accidentally obtuse. The irony is that it was supposed to be a safe bet, because director Franco Dragone had delivered three hit shows: "Mystere," "O" and Celine Dion's "A New Day."

In a less jaded marketplace, "The Fashionistas" would be quite the conversation piece. It exists entirely because of the determination of its creator, John Stagliano. His porn video empire continues to subsidize this dream project, a dance adaptation of one of his hard-core movies.

"I am extremely happy with the show," Stagliano says. But he adds: "If my income at my day job were to suddenly get much smaller I would have to seriously consider closing the show immediately. So I'm praying the Justice Department does not crack down on porno."

"Tropical Passions" has nothing in common with "Fashionistas," beyond the fact that its producer so loves the show he didn't let business realities get in his way. Recaredo Gutierrez made his money in construction in Miami, but came into the Sahara on a rent-the-room contract without doing his homework on how to cost-effectively work with local labor unions, or how to sell a mostly Spanish-language show to audiences this far west of Miami.

"Le Reve" is different. The folks at Wynn Las Vegas could endure being called Cirque du Soleil copycats as long as the show takes in $3 million per week. But it hasn't made the jump from six to 12 weekly performances.

"I think for some reason we're a punching bag," Dragone associate Peter Wagg says of the show packed with the director's baroque, surreal trademarks, but also with some dark, unsettling imagery. Wagg says Dragone is "trying to be innovative and do something new."

It would be nice to think hits such as the Blue Man Group would encourage efforts that stand outside old or generic formulas. Just as it is at the tables, the Strip should keep drawing those who will bet big as long as there is an occasional winner.

Mike Weatherford's entertainment column appears Thursdays and Sundays. Contact him at 383-0288 or e-mail him at mweatherford@reviewjournal.com.