It's De-Vegas, She's Divine

"Boy, is my ass tired!" Bette Midler chirps as she rides onto the gigantic Caesars Palace stage astride a donkey. In THE SHOWGIRL MUST GO ON, the 62-year-old chantootsie often declares that she's exhausted, yet in her sharp 90-min. act, she seems ageless and indefatigable--strutting, singing, hopping around in a fish tail, cavorting under a 3,200-lb. (1,450 kg) headdress of pink feathers. Showgirl, a slick $10 million production, replaces Céline Dion's elephantine extravaganza with the unique Midler mix: sass, heart and a show-biz salesmanship that's been irresistible since her early days as an icon for gay men only. "Thirty years ago, my audiences were on drugs," she says. "Now they're on medication." Her fans have aged, but Midler is still incandescent, and the new show, written by Eric Kornfeld and choreographed by Toni Basil, is a fresh, sinfully satisfying distillation of her career. The Divine Miss M. just gets diviner. Bette. Better. Best.