Little’s look back is a strong step forward

It makes sense, now that we've been forced to think about it.

A guy who's spent more than 50 years transforming into other people may be a little shy about putting his life in the spotlight.

Or maybe it's just hard to teach a 76-year-old dog new tricks.

Either way, Rich Little seems a little shy about his new autobiographical showcase at the Tropicana, even though its the smartest thing he's done in years. Using his career as a timeline and interacting with videos and charcoal sketches of his subjects gives his act a framework and a new purpose.

Alas, it does not give him new jokes. But it's a step in the right direction for those who remember him and the celebrities of his generation, especially within the restraints of a one-hour running time in the modest setting of the Laugh Factory comedy club.

For the first time in years, the veteran impressionist leaves us wanting more, not less. And we no longer feel bad for a guy we grew up watching.

A bank of video clips reminds us Little was the king of mimickry during Johnny Carson's era. But the past 10 years weren't kind to him. His Loni Anderson and Paul Lynde jokes played in a time warp, oblivious to the new world around him.

But now we see his impression of George Burns, then a clip of him talking to the real deal on "The Tonight Show." If the challenge has shifted to competing with his video history, it's a good problem to have.

Sometimes, the impressionist will drop a little tease such as "The Duke was an interesting guy," or that Jack Benny was "one of my idols," and you want to raise your hand and say, "Hey Rich, can you back up and elaborate on that a bit? Maybe tell us what it was like to meet them?"

Little also pulls a couple of fake-outs, leading us to believe he is going to tell real stories about Ronald Reagan or Jimmy Stewart, only to tee up more of the one-liners that gag writers supplied him for years.

Sometimes, though, he gets it just right: Setting up his Andy Rooney bit by relating a bookstore encounter with the real Rooney, or telling us how Lynde hated Little's impression of him, and illustrating it with video clips.

In all fairness, Little put the show together himself, without the help of a director to provide an outside eye and help him use every minute of his hour wisely. It's hard to wean him from his stock material, and old habits die hard, especially when he relapses into bad-karaoke singing impressions of Frank Sinatra and Neil Diamond that don't fit the premise.

The most constructive advice I can offer is to send him back to two interviews he did with KNPR-FM's "State of Nevada" in January 2008 and May 2011. Sampling them both again, I heard stories that tap the impressions in real, organic ways: Studying a zoo ostrich to master his Carson, or Ed Sullivan suggesting that to meet a mandated running time, "Why don't you take the impersonations out of it?"

Or having John Wayne barge onto the set of the short-lived sitcom "Love on a Rooftop" to meet the impressionist: "Little! Show me how I do my walk! I'm losing it."

For now, though, it's a solid start on the show that seems just around the corner, the vehicle that could let him end his career on a high note. Anyone still fascinated by that manic clip of the Dean Martin roast, or Carson crashing the "Dinah!" show, will find it easy to cheer him on.

Read more from Mike Weatherford at bestofLasVegas.com. Contact him at mweatherford@reviewjournal.com.