Shimmer Cabaret lets tribute acts blur the line between ‘set’ and ‘show’

It’s the resort corridor’s only venue which combines a cozy lounge feel with a roomy, theatrical stage, letting its entertainers both perform to us and connect with us.

The room’s latest attraction, Neil Diamond impersonator Rob Garrett, struggles with an affliction common to tribute acts more used to 15 minutes in “Legends in Concert” (where Garrett worked for years). As he rambled between songs we weren’t sure if he was in character as Diamond or merely himself, whether he was doing a “show” or a “set.”

But in the Shimmer, you can blur those lines. About 15 minutes in, Garrett pulled to the stage a woman named Pam from Alabama who said she’d been drinking tequila, and he sang “Play Me” cheek to cheek with her.

By the time he was out in the audience leading a “Sweet Caroline” sing-along, it didn’t matter whether he was Neil or Rob, though he did get a laugh near the end by proclaiming, “I have to let the cat out of the bag. I am not Neil Diamond.”

Whoever he was, he was unerringly nice — and sincere. That’s the most important thing for people who are going to pay money for a Neil Diamond tribute.

We outsiders can think of Diamond as two or three people. Maybe someone should stage a multicostume tribute, the way the Elvis guys go from Rockabilly to Comeback Special to Jumpsuit Elvis. There’s the ’60s-cool Neil and moody pop hits such as “Solitary Man” and “Cherry, Cherry,” then the thinking woman’s sex symbol of the “Hot August Night” album.

But after Elvis died, middle-age fans transferred their devotion to Diamond, who took to sequined shirts and an unfortunate hairdo, the look preserved by Garrett here. (I’ve only seen two long-form Diamond tributes, and since Jay White also homes in on “The Jazz Singer” Neil, one has to trust they’ve done their research and that the touring Super Diamond corners the limited market for Cool Neil.)

Garrett does sound astonishingly like Diamond at times. But like the look, the voice also is that of the ’80s, when Diamond’s hearty burnish had dropped to more gravelly bedrock for melodramatic ballads such as “September Morn” and “Hello Again”: “A-h-h-a-a-y think about you every night,” Garrett rumbles from the depths of his diaphragm.

“You Don’t Bring Me Flowers,” with forceful backup singer Rosanna Telford, adds welcome variety to a budget overview of the singer’s hits with a modest three-piece band (the keyboardist doubling the bass parts).

You’d think Garrett was smart to stick to the beaten path of hits in his 75 minutes, with no surprises. But then, someone from the audience requested Diamond’s obscure “Johnathan Livingston Seagull” soundtrack. Nice guy that he is, Garrett shared his fondness for the work and even improvised a few lines from it.

Those are the fans this show is for, and maybe they will support it.

Late nights at the Shimmer now belong to the younger demographic of Purple Reign. Jason Tenner’s Prince tribute has landed in its third venue in a year and a half, and its largest stage yet. Shimmer seems like a sports arena compared with the D Las Vegas, where I reviewed the show July 31, or Hooters Hotel before that.

Tenner can do the splits and bounce his mic stand with no fears of knocking over sultry dancer Jennifer Romas, who also has plenty of wiggle room now.

The crowd wasn’t as quick to its feet, but that’s cool, too. The secret of Purple Reign’s longevity is that it’s not just a cover band, but a carefully paced (and little-changing) show, complete with Morris Day (Drew James) and his mirror-toting squire Jerome (Kendrick Harmon).

The real Prince releasing two new albums last week may have little bearing on this tribute that freezes His Purple Majesty in the ’80s.

“I don’t think they seen the movie, Morris!” Harmon proclaims of the “Purple Rain” flick that sources most of the shtick. Great line, because you could tell from the response it’s not the new albums that drew them.

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