New theater a cozy fit for Blue Man Group’s odd ritual

If you messed around for the past 15 years and never saw the Blue Man Group, the good news is you didn't wait too long.

But if you do know the show? No need to rush back until you are with someone who doesn't. A new venue is a great fit for the Las Vegas perennials but doesn't translate into new material.

The bald blue guys landed on their feet after a forced move from the Monte Carlo to the cozy second-floor Luxor theater built for the Jabbawockeez (who in turn moved to the MGM Grand as part of the parent company's plan to replace the Monte Carlo theater with a 5,000-seat concert hall).

The new show unveiled last week proves the 800-seat theater to be the second best of Blue Man Group's four Las Vegas homes, second only to a gorgeous Venetian stage designed by concert-industry heavyweight Marc Brickman.

This version is a "greatest hits" show of sorts, basically a move-over of the one that ran most of this year in the Monte Carlo. But it actually works better at Luxor, with the audience closer to the show.

When the Blue Men flip up their welding visors at the beginning, much of the crowd can stare right back into their curious faces. But they still manage to squeeze in a two-level set with side-wall lighting.

Needless to say, the first half of the show plays great here, with material that stems back to the New York troupe's off-Broadway days.

The Blue Men, as you probably know, aren't big talkers, but they have mad skills. They can drum on just about anything, especially if it's made out of PVC. They catch marshmallows in their mouths, and turn them into modern art. They elevate the gnashing of Cap'n Crunch cereal into the art-damaged rhythms of industrial-rock experimentalists.

If the smaller theater seems compromised, it's in the second half of the show, which used to offer us some big reveals. Remember the old Neon landscape that came to life? The assembly-line robots, or the carousels that would spin so fast they created an animated effect known as a zoetrope?

Nothing on that level here. We do get arachnid music machines, another cool contraption that blows smoke rings, and the Blue Men's dark frocks firing to hi-res sparkle, thanks to light-up vests and the ultimate in glow sticks.

Though it has never been made clear just what a Blue Man is — A cloning experiment gone awry? A low-fi alien visitor? — he is a durable construction.

The three creators and original performers (Matt Goldman, Phil Stanton and Chris Wink) gave themselves room for the silent trio to both act — with fire extinguishers and shop vacs in hand when problems arise — and react to the modern world around them.

It's hard to find a faster swing from smart satire to silent shtick: in laying down the rules of rock-concert etiquette, a new one adding "the selfie" is immediately followed by a sight gag about bending one's leg behind one's head.

But you can only be young once. Yes, the live band has never rocked louder than in these close quarters. But the edginess Blue Man brought to Las Vegas in 2000, when it was fair to call them avant-garde, has evolved into something more like warm ritual.

The Blue Men are probably still around more for the same reasons as the long-running Broadway hits "Wicked" or "The Lion King": New youngsters come of age, and you want to take them.

For repeaters, the show has sort of a rote, "Rocky Horror" feel to it. There are some welcome new jokes about phone apps and password strength, but you're really just waiting to get covered up in paper. As long as you aren't waiting for a lot of new surprises, the Blue Men will have the paper, paint and Twinkie goo loaded up whenever you're ready.

— Read more from Mike Weatherford at reviewjournal.com. Contact him at mweatherford@reviewjournal.com and follow @Mikeweatherford on Twitter.