Bette Midler

Barack Obama gave Bette Midler a rapid induction into Las Vegas.

Campaigning for Obama took the entertainer into places off the Strip it might otherwise have taken her a long time to discover.

"Just for myself, for my own experience, it was really fascinating to see what's out there, to see who's actually local in Las Vegas," and "how people are getting along," she says. "We kind of live in a little bit of a show-business bubble."

Midler began rehearsing "The Showgirl Must Go On" almost a year ago at the Colosseum at Caesars Palace. But the show isn't here year-round, and when it is, the star says she spends much of her time tweaking it.

Originally, "I had this pipe dream that I was going to go over all those swing states" on Obama's behalf, she explains. But October rolled around before she knew it, and Midler instead volunteered to reach out to Las Vegas.

The highest-profile event was a rally at Krave nightclub, where she told the crowd she had never before written a stump speech for a candidate, but "rather enjoyed it."

After that, "I went all over town," she says, from a coffee shop in a mall to "a ladies lunch at The Lakes." She met high-profile citizens such as the "very lively" Rep. Shelley Berkley and Elaine Wynn -- whom Midler joined for early voting at a local library -- as well as rank-and-file AFL/CIO union members.

On Jan. 17, Nevada Ballet Theatre will honor Midler at its annual Black & White Ball, continuing its tradition of honoring female entertainers who have a positive influence on performing arts.

"We really feel like we're part of the town," she says. "We're really boosters. We don't see a lot of that. We don't see a lot of people go, 'Yay, Las Vegas!' "

However, "I do notice there's a lot of smoke shops," she says. "And I notice there's a lot of hydroponics. I can't think of what they're growing."

Since the February opening of "Showgirl," Midler says she has grown tight with her expanded show family, which ranges from longtime collaborator Toni Basil as choreographer to new recruits from the local band Santa Fe and the Fat City Horns.

"They're so good-natured about everything I throw in front of them," she says of the collective cast and crew. "I'm used to people with attitude, and they don't have any."

Midler seems like she would be the funniest entertainer to work for, but she says, "I'm really old-school as far as professional behavior and quality work is concerned. I don't sound like I'm much fun, but indeed, when you put stuff in front of a paying audience, you want it to be as good as it can be."

Her collaborators seem to understand her need to not let the show get set in its ways. The December stint included Christmas favorites, and now she's again looking for new songs.

"There's some songs you just get tired of singing after a while," she says. "Not the big ones, the stadium songs, but some that are in between the big set pieces. It's a good challenge for me and the band (to rotate them). You have to keep it sharp, keep everybody on their toes. The only way to do that is to throw new stuff at them from time to time.

"It's a long haul, and you have to stay interested," she adds. "The last thing I want to turn into is a lounge act. I can feel it, I can just feel it. Because when you've done the same thing over and over, it becomes mechanical, and that's the last thing I want to do."

While her act recalls an earlier era of Las Vegas -- from the bawdy jokes patterned after Sophie Tucker to the retro-flavored showgirl numbers -- the production itself is complex. "You're not just standing in front of a curtain like the old days or swinging your hips."

So on one hand, she has this cool idea: Record all those "in between" songs over the next year and compile them for a live album. On the other hand, practical considerations: "Are you going to costume it? Are you going to choreograph it? Is it going to be a big song, a little song?"

When "Showgirl" first opened, it seemed in search of the right balance between Midler's cabaret chattiness and the expanded production possibilities of 20 dancers.

"We've tightened it up so much," she says. "The things that worked then of course stayed, and the things that don't work have long gone." But because it has achieved "a delicate balance, when you start throwing a bunch of stuff at it, I don't know that it will survive. Because it's quite well-balanced now, I don't know that a bunch of songs added willy-nilly are going to work.

"Those are the things you think about when you have a second on the treadmill," she adds with a laugh.

The insanely wide, 120-foot Colosseum stage provides plenty of grist for Midler's act. But much of her Las Vegas day centers around "doing what I have to do in order to survive the show, which is to work out, run or some kind of physical exercise, and then work with my voice."

Does she feel she waited too long for this Las Vegas residency, either because of the dour economy or because she is 63?

"I think it was really good timing. For me, I couldn't have done it any sooner. Everybody is so happy we have jobs," she says in a manner that isn't obviously joking. "It's so strange out there. I think it was actually fortuitous. So far, we're doing great business and keeping our fingers crossed.

"The one thing we have to offer, we are peddling joy with both hands. You come to our show and you will leave a happy camper," she adds. "In a downturn, people need a few laughs. I know that sounds corny, and I can imagine some old-timer saying it. (But) I'm always happy to be uplifted when I go to a show. People look forward to it during the hard times. If they're looking forward to it, we got it."

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