Gordie Brown

Gordie Brown has come full circle back to the Golden Nugget, but he's not quite the same guy who started his Las Vegas career there in 2004.

Sure, a lot of the gags are the same and just as adolescent. A review of the comic impressionist's first Nugget stint back then mentions lots of bits that are still there now, from Paul Simon's "You Can Call Me Al" becoming a Viagra joke to Billy Ray Cyrus' "Achy Breaky Heart" -- "I was smokin' a bong when I wrote this crazy song" -- morphing into the theme song of kiddie dinosaur Barney.

The difference is more in Brown's confidence level and the sheer speed of delivery. And perhaps these are only subtleties, noticeable only to someone who has seen him a lot of times since.

But when the likable Canadian first came to town as a headliner, it seemed like he was trying too hard. This was most apparent in 2006, when Brown was given the big break of a custom theater at The Venetian, one he lost barely a year later to Wayne Brady.

It didn't help that Brown was working right across the Strip from Danny Gans at The Mirage. The venture came off as trying to chase Gans' success, even though Brown is really more like a musical stand-up and less about wowing people with accurate impressions.

Whatever Brown changed really started clicking when he ended up in the V Theater last summer without his five-piece band (before he got called up to a big tour with Celine Dion). The slimmed-down conditions streamlined the comedy and either changed Brown's attitude or mine. I was hoping whatever he found wouldn't reverse itself when he returned to the Nugget with the band.

I'm happy to report Brown still doesn't crave your affection. Jokes that felt a little forced back in the day now explode like steam from a burst pipe of an intriguingly scrambled brain.

Groaningly bad bits (Tom Petty "Free Phonin' " a long-distance ad) fall right alongside really funny ones (Michael Bolton doing his overwrought thing on "Frosty the Snowman") and the impressionist doesn't wait around for you to sort them out. He hammers you at such a clip that 40 celebrity impressions come in as many minutes before he slows down the pace.

The humor works better at this feverishly juvenile level, when George W. Bush and Forrest Gump keep popping up for commentary, and where Tom Jones can reveal that the secret to his trouser bulge is that Tattoo from "Fantasy Island" is stuffed down there.

Seeing the Cheech & Chong reunion tour last fall was a reminder of how hard I used to laugh at their comedy records as a teen. That made me wish my 15-year-old self could have heard the song parody about Ozzy Osbourne and the bidet (assuming I knew what one was back then) or Coldplay writing a theme for "Brokeback Mountain."

But the jokes now play to the older tourist demographic that buys most show tickets. It's hard to divide the response to the punch lines from Brown's overall appeal as a charismatic live wire. It's pure Las Vegas magic to see an entertainer walk into the crowd to improvise a long bit about an audience member who left the room. It even rhymed in places.

Brown opened his Nugget residency the same weekend Gans set up shop at Encore (though his VIP party is today), and a week before Terry Fator at The Mirage. You can see the glass as half empty -- Las Vegas has three impressionists doing bad jokes! -- or half full: Each has a different thrust.

The point of convergence is the obligatory version of Louis Armstrong singing "What A Wonderful World," apparently required for an impressionist to obtain a Clark County business license.

The tune offers a guide to each in a nutshell:

Fator: The duet version with Kermit the Frog is kind of an encore, celebrating his rise to fame on "America's Got Talent."

Gans: Done with a straight face and presented as something precious for you to applaud.

Brown: Caps a burst of weirdness that starts with Green Day, interrupted by Jimmy Stewart offering a "real song" instead. At this point, "Wonderful World" becomes the rare impression not to go for a big joke. Which is something Brown might want to work on.

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