San Fran Bay Journal
Bette Midler attacks Vegas
Takes no prisoners in her new show
by Robert Julian
Last Friday, Bette Midler officially opened her two-year, 200-show run at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, and she hit the ground running. The 4,000-seat Coliseum was full of mature fans who’ve followed the diminutive diva for years, and knew pretty much what to expect from The Showgirl Must Go On. They got more than most bargained for.
First of all, there is the new Midler, who during the musical number “Pretty Legs (and Great Big Knockers)” casually alludes to having had “some work done” before opening this show. As one who sat in the front of the auditorium and met her after the show, up-close and personal, I can tell you it was more than a little work. I would guess it included a tummy tuck, breast reduction, and full face-lift. And it is, in my estimation, the best “work” I’ve ever seen. The slender Midler looks 20 years younger than her 62 years, and totally natural in appearance. And her youthful visage has its parallel in her stage performance.
Midler, the senior citizen, still cracks wise, but the nastiness that formerly characterized her dishing of co-stars and musical competitors like the late Karen Carpenter and Cher has vanished. Now she sends up herself, and her audience, in a kindler and gentler fashion. The Sophie jokes are still in the act, but she no longer mentions Sophie Tucker because, by now, no one remembers who Sophie Tucker was. Besides, Midler long ago made these vulgarities her own. Bruce Vilanch is listed in the show credits as one of the writers, and I can imagine his hand behind lines like, “Thirty years ago, my audiences used to be on drugs – now they’re on medications,” and a warning Midler gives to her audience: “There will be no seizures at Caesars tonight.”
Midler acknowledges that Showgirl is “basically the show I’ve been doing for the last 35 years,” and she is correct. It is now on steroids, with Midler, and the latest incarnation of her three singing “Harlettes,” backed up by 18 showgirls and a 13-piece band. Choreography is provided by Toni Basil of “Oh, Mickey” fame. The show opens with a sensational Spielbergian film clip involving a billboard for Midler’s show, a vulture, a burro, and a tornado that moves across the Nevada desert before striking the Las Vegas strip. Enter the diva, atop a stack of Vuitton luggage with the Harlettes serenading her with “Big Noise from Winnetka.” Midler informs the crowd she has arrived courtesy of “hormones and mood elevators,” and they should expect “glitz, hits, and tits.” She then proceeds to deliver on her promise.
The hits include “The Rose,” “From a Distance,” “Hello in There,” “Wind Beneath My Wings,” and “When a Man Loves a Woman.” The latter song Midler still delivers with passion and commitment, but she no longer ends it writhing around on the floor in high diva overdrive. The middle of Midler’s show centers around her infamous creation, Dolores Delago, the toast of Chicago. With sequined fishtails, she and all the women in her company flash glittering boobies from motorized wheelchairs while performing the songs Dolores brings to Vegas for her big debut. They include a medley of “Play that Funky Music, White Fish,” “Hooked on a Feeling,” and “Bad Fish” (sung to the tune of Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls”). It’s still corny, and it still works.
Midler is in good voice, and she still moves with agility. But her high heels are noticeably lower, her newly diminished ta-tas remain under wraps, and the bawdy, manic frenzy of her concerts from the 70s and early 80s is gone forever. Some hint of those days can be obtained from items being merchandized in the Bette boutique just outside the Coliseum. Fans can purchase the Showgirl program for $7.95, her old CDs, feather boas, or a line of soaps and shampoos marketed under the “Bathhouse Betty” label. But buyer beware: nothing is inexpensive in Vegas anymore. Tickets for Midler’s show range from $95 to sit in the top balcony to $250 for front orchestra seats.
For better or worse, Bette Midler is now an oldies act, and this is reflected not only in her material but in the crowd she draws. Her audience is white, middle-aged, affluent, and now primarily heterosexual. Yet the current middle-of-the-road version of the former kick-ass gay diva remains a hard-working professional and talented performer. In an era of Spears, Lohan, and Hilton, Midler gives old school a good name.
03/06/2008
