But Arthur held tight and his "Xtreme Magic" has, by default, become the only place to see the exotic tigers once synonymous with "Vegas-style magic." The matinee ticket prices were a fair deal even when the duo was at The Mirage.

Arthur carries on the Barnum-esque traditions of the German showmen, touting white tigers as an "endangered species" rather than the product of selective breeding. He even walks a "liger" (mutant offspring of tiger and lion) across the stage.

What, no "tigons"?

In his three years at the Tropicana, Arthur has learned to play these "oohs" and "aahs" and doesn't try to compete with Lance Burton in the personality department. He's the ringmaster of a fast hour that bombards audiences with everything from a helicopter to a 400-pound tiger, but not a lot of idle chit-chat.

The Tropicana is a tenuous place to put on a show, given the ever-changing news about redevelopment plans. But producer Ari Levin has nonetheless invested money and energy into "Xtreme Magic" since the first of the year.

Several illusions are new to the show, including a "laser cannon" that competes with, but does not displace the giant drill, for those who like to ponder the psychosexual theories of phallic symbols and what it means to cram leggy young women into various cabinets and contraptions and turn them into tigers.

The costumes, lighting, choreography and booming music all have been changed out as well, though most people are likely to remember the payoffs of the illusions -- leopard emerging from giant disco ball, etc. -- more than they're going to notice that it's now a different Evanescence song setting up the trick.

A big stage show still needs to pace things with quieter moments, and it's in these smaller bits that you remember you paid to see the cats. Arthur has become more comfortable in his own skin and doesn't try to be David Copperfield. It hardly mattered that one woman he pulled from the audience didn't speak much English. Banter isn't his strong suit.

He fares a little better when he pulls a young lad to the stage and supplies the "stunt hands" to help him with some sleight of hand. Lance Burton does this type of thing better, but magic -- and this brand of magic in particular -- is the primary exception to the show business adage that you steer clear of kids and critters. With Arthur, any and all help is welcome.

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