‘Sin City Comedy’

You probably thought "Sin City Comedy" was just a catchy name, not truth-in-advertising shorthand for Comedy About Sin City.

But all three comedians on the bill in the V Theater's fairly new stand-up showcase do their own variation on "What happens in Vegas ..." Two of them devote substantial stage time to the one experience shared by everyone in the room: Las Vegas itself.

It's local tradition that if you see comedy in Vegas, you will probably get comedy about Las Vegas: old ladies smoking at slot machines, sidewalk porn peddlers, and that time-honored whipping post, the Circus-Circus buffet, a blast from the past that's always good for a diarrhea routine from this week's headliner, Carl LaBove ("The worst day of your life is that day as an adult when you poop your pants").

But partners John Padon and Kevin Kearney really chose the Sin City name because they added burlesque to the typical stand-up roster; a clever, Old Vegas attempt to get noticed amid five other multicomic club formats around town.

"You don't get this at the Improv," Padon says after Brandy Lee makes the Van Halen "Hot for Teacher" transformation, shedding her glasses and skirt (but not her bra; it's not a topless show) for a lucky "student" pulled from the crowd.

Kearny has a deep phone bank of comedian contacts from his years at Bally's bygone Catch A Rising Star. Padon works steadily as the comic relief in topless shows such as "Fantasy," where he still can be seen on Thursdays. He also does a week each month as Carrot Top's opening act.

"Sin City" shares a new second space inside the V Theater at the Miracle Mile Shops with comic mentalist Gerry McCambridge. Patrons go upstairs and cross an "outdoor" terrace to find a 200-seater of very odd shape, thanks to a load-bearing wall in the way of things. But if you can sit in front -- not in a recessed alcove or a long side hallway -- you find the staging doesn't look cramped or cheap. It's contemporary, very Comedy Central, with a steep wall holding 10 video monitors of varied sizes.

Padon often handles the hosting duties himself. Customers immediately know they're in secure hands when he gives them a friendly beat-down for being there. "If you were winning, you'd be watching French people flip for $300."

He turns his common-sense eye on everything from O.J. Simpson to the nightly barrage of ads for erectile dysfunction and pills "to kill a cartoon character that lives under my toenail."

Witty, retro-sexy stripteases, on this night by Lee and the athletic Dorimar Bonilla, frame the middle comic. Last week it was J. Reid, who further diversified the bill with his young, African-American perspective. Robert Deuchaine takes over this weekend.

But there's little need for a middle spot when you have LaBove as headliner. (The lineup usually changes every Monday, but LaBove is a two-week booking.) Sam Kinison fans know LaBove as the late star's friend and opening act. LaBove was following in a separate car, and Kinison literally died in his arms after a 1992 highway crash near Laughlin.

LaBove, who closes Sunday, has 30 years in stand-up and hours of material. He still works the stage with a jaguar's graceful power, pumping physical comedy into routines like one about bicycle cops: "Can you imagine being knocked out of a televised chase because you hit a pebble?"

But you don't have to imagine. He takes the fall to show you what it would look like.

There's an actor's sense of detail to a closing pantomime of a drunk trying to get into his hotel room. And while you won't be overthinking any of it, you can't overlook the Zen calm in the middle of the hurricane and LaBove's empathy for people; the polar opposite of most modern stand-up.

LaBove is living in New York and says that's the main reason why he hasn't worked Las Vegas as much in the past two years. But he says he likes the team spirit at the new club and wanted to help out.

The dance numbers surely don't hurt either.

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.