‘Viva’ could use some more Elvis as new Strip show opens at CityCenter

All kinds of people love Elvis, and "Viva Elvis" is all kinds of show.

It starts off like the theme park revues they used to have at Six Flags, where you came in from the hot sun to salute the "Fabulous '50s," with wholesome collegiates wearing frozen smiles rocking around a giant juke box in pastel poodle skirts.

But this is Cirque du Soleil, with a pricey new production at Aria, the Strip's new crown jewel. Isn't it supposed to aim just a bit higher?

Indeed. "Viva Elvis" segues into more Cirque-like terrain: two acrobats on a giant guitar, accompanied by Sherry St.-Germain's moody, Norah Jones-y take on "One Night With You."

Then it goes Broadway, with an evocative reminder of Elvis Presley's dirt-poor origins in Tupelo, Miss. A downtrodden cast rises up via Toscha Comeaux's gospel-shaking "All Shook Up."

And is this also a literal biography? Sometimes. And selectively. "Viva" skips the transformative, culture-quaking year of 1956, when the young singer defined rock 'n' roll along with his iconic image. But it oddly skips to the end of the party two years later, striking a sudden documentary tone with giant-screen news footage of the newly minted superstar reporting to duty for his G.I. blues.

"Viva Elvis" is indeed a happy mess. It's loud and joyful and full of surprises, even if they stem from jarring inconsistency.

One minute it's a jubilant burst of a marching-band drum corps rumbling into "Return to Sender."

A little later, it's wild-eyed astonishment at a Roy Rogers campfire scene, with a washboard band and a cowboy twirling a burning rope. A genuine "Huh?" moment, one cynics might see as Cirque wandering adrift in its first journey to the red states, uncomfortable and pandering to strangers.

The Canadian entertainment giant is clearly out of its comfort zone saluting the most American of icons. With "Love," Cirque pulled The Beatles into its wistful foreign-film universe. It was no mean feat to get two surviving Beatles and two widows to agree on much. But the final product is allowed its elegiac grace notes and reflects the cultural upheaval of the '60s.

Here the company is in the service of Priscilla Presley and Elvis Presley Enterprises, heeding a wish to protect the legacy and ignore the dark, lonely side of the saga. Cirque officials say that has no place in an upbeat Vegas show anyway. But if cornball Wayne Newton can go there (with "The Letter," based on one penned by a depressed Elvis) that's a thin argument indeed.

It's the first Vegas Cirque with English narration to explain its few abstract decisions. Oddly, the narration goes to "The Colonel" Tom Parker (actor Junior Case). A divisive figure among Elvis fans, the manager is fully rehabilitated here with happy-pappy platitudes ("I really miss that boy").

But any party with Elvis is still a party. The overriding fun here makes it Cirque's best family offering since "O" (if parents don't mind Cirque's version of a stripper pole). Light on acrobatics, "Viva" still conjures the old magic with upside down "Jailhouse Rock"-ers and trampoline acrobats who run up walls, jump from ledges and bounce back to their starting points.

American director Vincent Paterson staged tours for Michael Jackson and Madonna, but struggles to build a concert for an absent star. You can show Elvis on a video screen. But when you do, pity the poor guy stacking chairs for a balancing act. When Elvis is up there all eyes are on him, so he must flicker away before the guy does his one-armed handstand or no one will notice.

The handstand comes during a '60s-hip revamp of "Bossa Nova Baby," one of the places to prove the music is the only way "Viva" is allowed to push the envelope. "Burning Love" gets The Who treatment. "King Creole" gets a dance-hall toast by Jennlee Shallow.

Sometimes you wonder why the original records weren't good enough, and sometimes Presley's voice seems too far in the background. But the video screen finally releases him in all his jumpsuited, karate-kicking glory for the "Suspicious Minds" Vegas finale.

As his 2-D image practically jumps out of the screen to lay waste to showgirls and cartoony impersonators, the real Elvis reminds us why we're all here. Perhaps he should have taken charge a little sooner.

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