‘Matsuri’

Ask any teenager. It's tough to fit in, yet be your own person as well.

Now on its third trip to Las Vegas, the Japanese acrobatics revue "Matsuri" clearly has learned its way around the neighborhood. It looks more like what has become the accepted notion of a Las Vegas variety show, down to the magic tricks.

That's mostly a good thing for this fun Imperial Palace show. It stands to be formidable competition for the afternoon dollar, though its face-value ticket price of $62 is the highest of the matinees. (Could be it's "marked up to mark down" at the discount booths or with coupons.)

But I'm probably the rare person who can compare it to previous editions at the Riviera in 2006 and Sahara in 2007. In Japan it's not called "Matsuri" ("Festival") but "Muscle Musical." It is helmed by Ushio Higuchi, purveyor of obstacle-course TV shows that have made their way here as "Ninja Warrior" and "Unbeatable Banzuke."

The early, more direct transplants had cheesy aerobics music and an odd Richard Simmons vibe. Young women with cute pink or green hair and silk track shorts coaxed people out of their seats for a little cheerleading routine as they chanted, "Muscle, muscle, muscle, muscle!"

For Americans, it was intriguing. We weren't quite understanding something. It was a mash-up of cultures that seemed more exotic, in a 21st century way, than the stately geisha image that launches the new show.

The calisthenics are gone. The new edition is richer in stage design, flows more smoothly and has much better music; cinematic yet still Japanese enough to not sound just like Cirque du Soleil.

But the moments are rare when the show seems uniquely inspired. The scene, for instance, in which guys come out in karate gis and square off for what's sure to be a smackdown. And then they start dancing the tango.

There are fewer such laughs now, but at least the overall effort by the energetic, 15-person ensemble champions wit over "Aren't we amazing?"

And it is pretty amazing in stretches. One guy does a handstand on a stack of blocks as another knocks them out, one at a time, with a mallet.

Yasuaki Yoshikawa rides inside a big wheel in a simple but magical black-light effect. Not to be outdone by a hula hoop act, a clown in a white bird costume (Hiroyo Shimada) makes a hula hoop of a bigger wheel still, one large enough to zig-zag around inside.

"Matsuri" packs a lot into a little more than an hour, from floor gymnastics to bungee "birds" that keep popping out of an overhead cuckoo clock.

Two signature sequences explaining "muscle musical" carry over from both previous editions. Thigh slapping makes a collective percussion symphony. And foot-stomping on crates that look like shipping pallets make a thunderous, low-budget substitute for taiko drums.

"Matsuri" seems to have borrowed a page from Cirque by having the white bird and a magician in a panda mask (TanBa) serve as continuing comic relief and smooth the transitions while the stage is being reset behind the curtain.

Most of the magic is familiar, and could be cut by half to make room for a missing sequence that was the highlight of previous productions: human piano keys having to do push-ups to keep up with the pianist.

If not that, the show could use some distinctive act as a knock-out punch. Even at a sprinter's pace, it still feels spent by the time it's over. But just to say it stands as a viable option to Cirque is saying something in this town.

"Matsuri" will have you rooting for it to assimilate, but you hope it doesn't lose its accent.

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