Friday, Nov. 1, 2002 | 8:12 a.m.
Society of Seven, a group whose Las Vegas roots reach back 38 years, recently inaugurated CenterStage, a new cabaret-sized showroom at Aladdin.
When I last visited with SOS in May they were performing at the Golden Nugget and complaining that impressionist Danny Gans was cramping their style (which includes a lot of impressions).
The ensemble of talented Hawaiians claimed they weren't getting any help from MGM MIRAGE (the Nugget's parent company) because Gans' people didn't want any impressionists at any of the MGM properties. Officials with both MGM and Gans denied the allegations.
But in an effort to appease Gans, SOS said they cut the impressions part of their Nugget show down to 20 minutes.
Now that they are at the Aladdin, their 90-minute show includes about 45 minutes of impressions. Take that, Danny Gans.
SOS came to Vegas in 1964 for a four-week engagement at the Thunderbird and stayed for more than four years. In 1969 they moved their base to Hawaii, where they remained until about a year ago.
Leaving a second SOS group behind to hold down the fort in the islands, the first group returned to Las Vegas and began a stint at the Las Vegas Hilton, then the Golden Nugget, and now at the Aladdin.
Hopefully, the multitalented musicians, singers, comedians -- and impressionists -- have at last found a permanent home in Las Vegas. Or at least a place where their fans won't have to send out the bloodhounds to find them.
It's hard to find fault with the entertainers. Although Bert Sagum and Tony Ruivivar are the only two original members remaining, the current cast members have performed together for so long they could probably sleepwalk through their routines.
But they never shortchange audiences. They bring the same enthusiasm to the stage as a young group just beginning to make their mark.
Sitting through a performance by SOS is like riding a runaway train traveling 90 mph. It is full of laughs, full of energy, full of great songs out of the past and you don't know where you're going.
Unfortunately, the train hit a brick wall the night I saw the show.
The closing set of the evening was an abbreviated version of "Phantom of the Opera." The romantic musical is based on a tragic story. The tunes are wonderful, and SOS did an excellent job in its presentation.
But the contrast between the heavy-hearted Broadway show and the light and breezy routines that preceded it at CenterStage was too great. The party mood created by impressions and the tribute to rock 'n' roll and other routines came to an abrupt halt.
"Phantom" should have appeared somewhere in the middle of the production, then the audience could have appreciated the presentation and still have left the theater on a high note.
SOS came out swinging -- to "Jump 'n Jive" -- and quickly launched into an array of impressions.
Although almost every member of the cast does an impression or two, it is Gary Bautista who is the most impressionable.
He begins doing Johnny Mathis songs (including "Chances Are" and "Misty") and then does Mathis singing other people's songs ("Where the Boys Are" and "Macho Man").
Bautista sings "My Way" in eight different voices, ranging from Paula Anka (who wrote the song) to Perry Como and Paul Williams.
The show includes the inevitable tribute to the Rat Pack and and Elvis -- after all, this is Vegas. But it also highlights Kenny G, Tina Turner, Sonny and Cher and dozens more.
Although not every impression is dead on, even those that fail are still funny in the context of the show.
From impressions, SOS segues into a medley of songs from the hit Broadway musical, "Smokey Joe's Cafe."
The musical is a compilation of some of the greatest rock 'n' roll songs by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, one of the most prolific song-writing teams of the '50s and '60s. They created "Hound Dog" (originally cut by Big Mama Thornton in 1953 and covered by Elvis in '56), "Love Potion No. 9," "Kansas City," "Charlie Brown" and "Yakety Yak."
SOS can rock with the best of them.
After their tribute to rock 'n' roll, the group conducted an Elvis impersonator's school. Three volunteers were brought onstage, given quick instructions on Elvis moves, then they were dressed in costumes and performed. It was a humorous bit, but not hilarious.
Much funnier was when the audience was asked to imagine three members of SOS dancing the Cha Cha naked.
Perhaps the ending of the show would have been more in step with the rest of the evening if we had been asked to imagine the cast singing "Music of the Night" naked.
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