So when I finally made it there for the first time last weekend, I wanted the Vegas of the movie “Showgirls.” But these days, the town’s a lot more tony than tacky. And of course, I should have known better. The place started going upscale a few years ago, when all those fancy restaurant branches like Le Cirque and Circo appeared and the hotels got repolished exteriors and new sensibilities. (When the remodeled Aladdin hotel opened last July, guests no longer had to pass through the casino to get to their rooms.)

Now, I don’t gamble, and I’m not big on boozing. But I’m happy to sit down and be entertained seven nights a week. So during my 36-hour stay on the Strip, I snuck in two shows. When contrasted, they perfectly illustrate the changing identity of the city.

The first was “O,” which everyone says is Vegas’s must-see of the moment. The Cirque Du Soleil production at the Bellagio resort (tickets are $90 and $110) features acrobatics performed high above, on top of and inside a 1.5 million gallon pool of water that takes up most of the stage. “O,” the title of which is a phonetic version of the French word for water (eau), debuted in October 1998 to pretty much universal raves. Critics loved the synchronized swimming, the costumes from the 15th to the 20th centuries and the live orchestra accompanying the traditional circus acts. Reviewers marveled at its technical accomplishment (to avoid a public-pool-like smell in the theater, the water’s filled with bromide and just a touch of chlorine). And it’s been a phenomenal success. Its 1,800-seat shows are sold out weeks in advance.

I certainly found a lot to admire in “O.” I loved the stage, which changed constantly. At one moment, it’s got a hardwood floor; later it becomes a 25-foot-deep pool. The choreography is gorgeous, the high-flying shenanigans are jaw-dropping and there’s a sequence with four women twisting their bodies into contortions you’ve never seen.

But I also found it a bit repetitive and a tad too serious. Besides a couple of tongue-in-cheek touches, like a floating bathtub and a piano that submerged into the pool at one point, it was sober, high-end performance art-which is not for everyone. My favorite sequence featured fantastic high dives from three swings on different parts of the stage. With huge momentum, the acrobats propelled themselves into the air, did tricky dives, then filed quietly into the water with nary a splash. It was an energetic, summerlike scene, full of life and laughter. I wished there had been more of that.

It should come as no surprise that I got a lot more giggles out of “Siegfried & Roy at the Mirage,” the kitschy, loud, tiger-filled show (tickets are $100.50) that’s now in its 11th year and which has grossed well more than $500 million. Siegfried Fischbacher and Roy Uwe Ludwig Horn are so synonymous with Vegas that even though they’re aged 61 and 56 respectively, they’re referred to by locals simply as “the boys.”

“O” was a spectacle, but Siegfried and Roy’s show provided the old-fashioned, over-the-top campiness I’d been craving. The stage was filled variously with giant pyramids, fire, disco balls and of course, multitudes of animals. In the 90-minute production, the two demonstrate much more charm than you’d expect from their photographs, for which they usually pose stone-faced. Even after 40 years performing for Vegas crowds, it’s clear the duo still love the shtik. They flirt with the audience, change outfits a half dozen times and break a serious sweat while high-energy lyrics like “Y’all Ready for This” pump through the loudspeakers.

The pair has gained so much fame for their odd relationship with exotic creatures-they live on a 100-acre estate near Vegas called Little Bavaria with 55 tigers and 16 lions-it’s easy to forget that their act is first and foremost a magic show. And one that totally delivers. The boys levitate. They get crushed by a huge mechanical dragon only to turn up seconds later standing in the audience. And of course, they make themselves and lots of four-legged things (including an elephant) disappear again and again. There’s also a smattering of standard magic tricks, and, I gotta admit, no matter how many times I see a woman supposedly split in two (complete with loud buzz saw), it’s still a head-scratcher.

I knew it was all smoke and mirrors, and I didn’t mind one bit. “O” was OK, but Siegfried & Roy had me roaring. It was my first time in Vegas, and I wanted gaudy and garish. Good thing I got to town before it disappears entirely.