30 Best Performing Arts in Las Vegas, Nevada

Sometimes it’s not the elements but how they are combined. Absinthe became one of the most popular shows on the Strip by turning Cirque du Soleil's opulent, dreamlike aesthetic on its head. A downscale, shabby-chic vibe unifies circus acrobatics, raunchy comedy, and saucy burlesque numbers inside a cozy tent in front of Caesars Palace. (At least it’s a tentlike structure; fire inspectors insisted on a sturdy, semipermanent pavilion.) The audience surrounds the performances on a small, 9-foot stage. The festive, low-tech atmosphere is furthered along by the host, a shifty insult comic known as The Gazillionaire. This is cheap raunch with a wink, and audiences have been in on it since 2011.

The three bald, blue, and silent characters in utilitarian uniforms have become part of the Las Vegas landscape. The satire of technology and information-overload merges with classic physical comedy and the Blue Man's unique brand of interstellar rock and roll. The group's latest home, a cozy theater at Luxor, brings the Blue dudes closer to their off-Broadway origins: paint splattering, mouth-catching marshmallows, and rollicking percussion jam sessions on PVC pipe contraptions.

KÀ, Cirque du Soleil's biggest Las Vegas production, opened in 2006 and still stands as an amazing monument to the sky's-the-limit mentality that fueled Vegas in the go-go 2000s. The $165-million opus frees the stage itself from gravity, replacing a fixed stage with an 80,000-pound deck, maneuvered by a giant gantry arm into a near-vertical position for the climactic battle. Giant puppets also factor into the bold interpretation of live martial-arts period fantasies like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon in the adventures of two separated twins. Though no other Cirque in Las Vegas rivals it for sheer spectacle, those not sitting close enough to see faces can be confused by the story, which is told without dialogue.

Defying easy categorization, this hybrid attraction is at once familiar and wholly original. The immersive theater concept combines tasting rooms, a speakeasy environment, and an up-close view of the type of acrobatics and burlesque popularized by Absinthe. While it is a working rum distillery (short tours can be part of the experience), it's also a fanciful environment, not to mention a ticketed show—or rather, a series of small ones.

A basic package lets you sample as many as four high-octane rums as you wander through the maze of an elegantly surreal warehouse decorated to the last inch with ornate, turn-of-the-20th-century trappings. The corridors lead to a circular main stage and three smaller performance areas. The venue suggests you just "get lost" and divvy up your two hours as you seem fit, watching a few burlesque numbers, magic shows, cabaret singers, dancers, and acrobats swirling off the ground on straps or hoops. Tasting stations let you use a punch card to sample the rum straight-up—no ice, but bottled water is offered in generous stacks. You can also buy bottled cocktails. (Sorry wine and beer buffs, there’s no conventional bar or bartenders.) Add-on tickets might include a 1920s “seance” layered on a spooky magic/mentalism show, while “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” is a 16-course tasting menu in a sit-down room themed after the titular novel.

Meet the Beatles again—well, sort of—in a certified home run for Cirque du Soleil. Before he died, George Harrison persuaded the surviving Beatles (and Yoko Ono) to license the group's music to Cirque. The remixed music by the late Beatles producer George Martin and his son Giles is revelatory on 7,000 speakers, often like hearing the songs for the first time. In the summer of 2016, Cirque tweaked the show for its 10th anniversary, dialing down the elegiac version of postwar Liverpool and punching up the dance elements to emphasize the youth culture of Beatlemania. Cirque also added literal depictions of the Fab Four in videos and projection mapping for a great marriage of sensibilities that explodes with joy. Note: The show's future was uncertain after late 2023 as The Mirage transitions to the Hard Rock Hotel, but it seemed to have a shot at remaining at the Hard Rock, where it would certainly fit right in with the new theme and music memorabilia.

More than $70 million was spent on Cirque du Soleil's theater at Bellagio back in 1998, and its liquid stage is the centerpiece of a one-of-a-kind show. It was money well spent: O remains one of the best-attended shows on the Strip. The title is taken from the French word for water (eau), and water is everywhere—1.5 million gallons of it, 12 million pounds of it, contained by a "stage" that, thanks to hydraulic lifts, can change shape and turn into dry land in no time. The intense and nonstop action by the show's acrobats, aerial gymnasts, trapeze artists, synchronized swimmers, divers, and contortionists make for a stylish spectacle that manages to fashion dreamlike imagery from its acrobatics, with a vague theme about the wellspring of theater and imagination.

"What took them so long?" you might ask. A live version of America's Got Talent was a no-brainer once you go down the list of the former winners and contestants—from Terry Fator to Piff the Magic Dragon—many of whom ended up with ongoing residencies on the Strip. An attractively packaged variety show finally came to roost at Luxor in early 2022. The lineup packs as many as nine acts into 90 minutes, reflecting the NBC show's wide net: knife-throwing, magic, ventriloquists, you name it. The acts rotate; some are more or less permanent, while others come in for short stints. The winners who may not have a lot of stage experience are buffered by those who do, and ensembles such as Light Balance get an extra visual boost from the enhanced production elements of a stationary year-round revue.

The Strip's third naughty revue from Spiegelworld took its theme from the Western saloon vibe of an inherited venue in The Venetian's retail mall, creating the raucous atmosphere of a theme park revue gone off the rails. The flagship Absinthe is a better overall introduction to Spiegelworld's approach. But those who can't get enough of the formula will enjoy this Wild West variation on the campy hijinks, including barely clad acrobats, sexy cowboys and cowgirls, and . . . a nun?

This successor to the long-running Le Rêve is one of the biggest investments in year-round, general-interest shows since the peak years of Cirque du Soleil. Wynn spent $120 million dollars for an in-the-round fantasy about three characters who visit the realms of Water, Earth, and Air on a quest to appease some sort of queen who keeps yelling stuff like: “No one rests until my magic is returned to me!” If not entirely coherent in its early incarnation, Awakening is certainly beautiful. The aquatics of Le Rêve have been replaced by a “floating” hydraulic stage in pieces, state-of-the-art video projections, and colossal puppets (by Michael Curry, best known for co-designing the original puppets for The Lion King). Performers make their way down to the stage in giant translucent chutes. Personal stereo speakers in every seat guarantee there's no problem hearing Anthony Hopkins as the recorded narrator. And yet a lackluster opening raised questions of whether audiences have seen it all before in the likes of Cirque's KÀ or shifted their interest to star showcases. The show's main producer Baz Halpin (who also staged Katy Perry's Play) maintains that it's a work-in-progress.

Talk about aging in place. It's been more than 17 years since the prop comic with the eternal college-party vibe moved his trunks full of tricks into Luxor, where he became the Strip's longest-running year-round comedian. The Florida native known offstage as Scott Thompson still is most unique when wielding his visual gags, and he sells them with a manic energy, a tourist's street-level view of Vegas, and a running commentary on the act itself, perhaps a sly nod to his eternal lack of respect.

Score one for the ladies: the Rio builds a theater dedicated to the men of Chippendales, surrounds it with a lounge and gift shop, and makes "girls night out" an identified (and coveted) Las Vegas target demographic. The show has fancier staging than any G-string revue traveling on the nightclub circuit, and the bow-tied hunks keep it respectable enough to let Mom tag along with the bachelorette party. Celebrity guest hosts such as Vinny Guadagnino from Jersey Shore join the fun at strategic times of the year.

Fantasy is a topless show (un)dressed up as a variety show, with power-pop singing by its female host and magic or acrobatic acts to widen its appeal beyond the topless choreography. It's the least strip club–like of the Las Vegas topless revues, so it's not uncommon to see couples in the audience at this durable show that's been around since 1999.

The Canadian impressionist has been a Las Vegas presence for years, specializing in song parodies delivered with a manic silliness. Women will warm up to a guy good-looking enough to be a retro crooner, and men will recognize the kid from their middle school who memorized MAD magazine. (Of late Brown has a reduced schedule of two nights per week, sharing the theater with veteran musical acts.)

Las Vegas's oldest community theater was hard-hit by pandemic closures but keeps on ticking. A main-stage season of six or more titles is sometimes augmented by smaller, more adventurous "Black Box" works, and there is usually a summer festival of "fringe" comedy or new works. Productions are staged in a sparse but comfortable theater in an increasingly crowded strip mall on the edge of Las Vegas's Chinatown.

Mad Apple is Cirque du Soleil on a budget, more like what you might see on tour than the company's other Las Vegas extravaganzas. After the pandemic and changes within the company, Cirque downsized its more grandiose ambitions to create a modest cabaret-style show. Music and comedy get nearly as much stage time as the acrobatics, and there's a pre-show bar right onstage in the cozy U-shape theater that previously housed Cirque's more ambitious Zumanity. This show is clearly Cirque's answer to its competitor Absinthe, and yet the two have distinct tones beyond their shared acrobatics and ribald jokes. In keeping with the title and host property's theme, New York–themed songs and imagery—a yellow cab, a disco ball shaped like an apple—loosely connect the now familiar action, such as hand-balancing and a sexy aerial adagio. The big departures from past Cirque shows are the amount of stage time given to the comedy magician (Harrison Greenbaum in the early months) and bringing the singers and musicians off the risers to perform alongside the acrobats. You probably wouldn't want to choose this one over the more mind-blowing Cirque shows if you haven't seen them, but it's consistent fun if you have.

Channing Tatum didn't just cash a check to lend the name of his Magic Mike film franchise to a Las Vegas effort. He was an active member of the creative team, working with the movie's two female choreographers for this male revue that debuted in 2017 (originally at the Hard Rock Hotel). A new custom venue, converted from convention space at the Sahara, allows for aerialists and in-the-round action. Magic Mike Live still pairs the G-string antics with a nice-guy vibe and with more wit and modesty—some gals will say too much—than the genre usually allows. Spoiler alert: it even goes so far as to stage a "fake out" opening, spoofing the more typical male revues before introducing a female emcee.

Inventive artistic director Troy Heard maximizes a bare-bones storefront space in the heart of a revitalized Main Street to present challenging, consistently interesting titles, often reflecting his interest in immersive theater. Majestic's past triumphs include the world premieres of The Sandman and Clown Bar 2, and the Las Vegas debuts of Carrie: The Musical and Spring Awakening.

The campy musical full of song parodies about "the change" has been a female-bonding experience on the Strip since 2006. The audience commiserates, sings along, and sometimes even ends up onstage with the four women in the cast as they bond while cavorting through a day at Bloomingdales.

After traveling the world as The Immortal, Cirque du Soleil's salute to Michael Jackson took on its second iteration in a remodeled Mandalay Bay theater. A partnership with Jackson's estate, it helps everyone remember why he became a worldwide phenomenon. Amid the bombardment of video imagery, Jackson pops up now and then as the spirit guide to a quartet of misfit fans, who gain powers to defeat robotic paparazzi (don't ask) by harnessing the King of Pop's "agility, courage, playfulness, and love." Instead of a live band, the acrobatics and dance numbers unfold to remixes of Jackson's actual recordings in earth-shaking sound delivered by more than 7,000 speakers.

The Strip's first permanent Cirque du Soleil show celebrated its 25th anniversary in late 2018 by completing a gradual overhaul that includes several new acts. It's still the town's most consistent family show, and the Las Vegas Cirque show that most purely preserves the Montreal company's innovative reinvention of the circus. Mystère has held up to the increased spectacle of its sister shows by keeping the spectators close to the action and the human acrobatics in the spotlight. You're intimately involved with this surreal wonderland and the comic characters, who interact with the audience. If you're not careful, you could even end up onstage.

Absinthe producer Spiegelworld carried the momentum and winning formula of raunchy humor and scantily clad acrobatics over to OPM (changed from Opium to reflect a 2022 revamp) at The Cosmopolitan. If Absinthe is "shabby chic" with folding chairs and the like, this one goes the other direction and is elevated by a very cool venue reminiscent of the supper clubs you see in old movies. The show venue is adjacent to Spiegelworld's restaurant Superfrico, and some of the show elements cross-pollinate. (A common knock on the show is that it doesn't stand alone quite as successfully as Absinthe.) The visuals tap into the swanky retro sci-fi of Barbarella and Forbidden Planet, but OPM leans more into a gay camp aesthetic in its costuming, humor, and overall tone.

Drag shows came close to extinction on the Strip until RuPaul transferred the popularity of his cable TV enterprise into a live spin-off. The format allows performers to rotate in and out of the revue, so the lineup isn't consistent, though don't look for the actual RuPaul beyond surprise appearances or special occasions.

Tape Face joins the long line of America's Got Talent variety performers to move in on the Strip—near fellow contestants Shin Lim, Mat Franco, and Piff the Magic Dragon—after mainstream exposure from the TV competition. Tape Face hearkens back to a simpler era of show business, with his silent mime and prop comedy based on the signature gimmick of gaffer's tape plastered over his mouth. He uses his eyes, gestures, and quite a few recruits from the audience to propel the charmingly low-fi shenanigans. (Sam Wills, the creator of Tape Face, generated some controversy when he decided to treat his character more like a Blue Man and less like a Piff. In other words, when Wills is out on tour, another performer he trained to do the act steps in at Harrah's.)

The Australian gents planted their G-strings on the Strip in 2001, as the first male dance revue to counterbalance all the topless burlesque and showgirl revues for men. With table-top dancing and a hands-on approach to their forays into the audience, the Thunder dudes relied on a low-tech, in-your-face appeal, even as Chippendales and Magic Mike Live brought more theatrical and slickly produced competition. But the Thunder struck back in early 2019, with an $8.5-million renovation of the troupe’s longtime space at the Excalibur, which now lets them cavort amid immersive technology such as LED screens and pod stages throughout the room.

A rare survivor of Las Vegas's mostly forgotten "family" phase is this Arthurian stunt show, which has lasted more than 25 years in a dirt-floor arena in the basement of Excalibur. The audience dines on a Cornish hen dinner (warning: no utensils) and cheers on fast horses, jousting, and swordplay. Those familiar with Medieval Times around the country will know the drill. The show remains a great family gathering—especially for preadolescents, who get to make a lot of noise—and the realistic stunts speak to the commitment of the cast.

UNLV's Nevada Conservatory Theatre brings in outside professionals and holds community-wide auditions for four or more productions each academic year, one of them a musical. Most performances are held in the Judy Bayley Theatre on campus and lean toward more challenging titles (The Cherry Orchard, Violet) than the commercial tours visiting the Smith Center.

This mid-price (and frequently discounted) variety show has held its own against the splashier Cirque-type productions for more than 20 years. The lineup varies, but it usually has magic, juggling, and acrobatics such as hand balancing. Perhaps the real secret is the “front of curtain” atmosphere with likable performers making direct contact with the audience in an intimate setting.

Everyone loves the idea of Wayne Newton. They just don't love his singing voice, which “The Midnight Idol” fried through decades of smoky showroom performances. And so, the smart switch to a (mostly) Q&A, autobiographical format in a cozy cabaret setting. Newton is still a one-of-a-kind personality who once again plays to his strengths, turning the bulk of his current show into a live memoir packed with film clips and stories about his career and the golden age of Vegas.

This is no old-timey burlesque. Instead, an edgy attitude permeates this dance-intensive topless revue with impressive video and lighting effects. A comedian doing a 10-minute set is the only spoken contact with the audience. It's closer to a strip-club vibe than the more theatrical Fantasy at Luxor, which should serve as a recommendation to some and a warning to others. But even the more intense gyrations are leavened with a winking humor.