Dan Dailey has the Texas charm played up a bit as he walks into the Sands Hotel on a first-name basis with everyone. He’s invested heavily in the place — meaning he’s lost a lot of money there.

There’s a blatant absurdity in the premise of Meet Me in Las Vegas. Sitting on the casino floor, Chuck Rodwell grabs hold of a passing woman for good luck (This would not fly today). However, this particular lady is the management’s new floor show, and she’s prepared to walk out if she has to perform in front of a bunch of grubby socialites having a good time and clinking their glasses and silverware. Cyd Charisse foreshadows her turn in the Ninotchka remake Silk Stockings by playing a surly, put-upon entertainer who castigates her indulgent employer (Jim Bachus).

In their subsequent meet-cute, she’s prepared to dress down this audacious stranger because she’s already in a foul mood, and what he does is unaccounted for. And yet she just happens to have the magic touch! He literally can’t miss when he keeps her company and keeps hold of her hand like a rabbit’s foot. The hokey metaphor of the movie is clear: When they hold hands, something magical happens, just not romance, not yet, that is.

They both have someone in their corner. For Dan, it’s the dealer Lotzi (Oskar Karlweis) who always offers encouragement. For Cyd, it’s Sari (Lili Darvas) who has an impish sense of humor when it comes to men and her employer’s uptight attitude around them. They’re a couple of veterans with a genial old European charm.

Cara Williams shows up as an old confederate of Chuck’s. I’m sure she sees the opportunity for them to get together, rekindle flames, and maybe have a few laughs. She has a confident air about her.

Her presence turns Maria Corvier (Charisse) off completely. The contentious threesome shares a table during an evening floorshow, and Maria becomes more inebriated and uninhibited as the night goes on with the ambition to take back what’s hers (if it ever was hers). She hops up on the stage in her stupor and hams it up much to Chuck’s embarrassment. Perhaps it’s the first time she realizes she’s jealous for the affections of this man.

What makes the film a true delight is how the world is stuffed full of in-jokes and cameos. It’s not quite the Rat Pack and Ocean’s Eleven, but there’s a sense of this kind of ubiquitous celebrity. We see Debbie Reynolds and Vic Damone, performers who are familiar from director Roy Rowland’s earliest assignments, including Two Weeks with Love and Hit The Deck.

There’s a sweltering song from the always exquisite Lena Horne and a comic number very on brand with Jerry Colonia, primping his mustache surrounded by a stage of bodacious beauties.

Frank Sinatra getting lucky at the slot machine is a blink-and-you-miss-it gag, followed by Peter Lorre looking visibly demoralized, slowly being bled dry at the blackjack tables. Even Charisse’s husband, Tony Martin, shows up in a cameo that I didn’t catch immediately. Of everyone, it feels most unnatural to see George Chakiris as a young newlywed with his wife (Betty Lynn) out on the casino floor instead of the dance floor (Apparently, he had a number that was cut).

Cyd doing a volleyball ballet is something I never thought I’d see. It seems as unprecedented as it is bizarre, though she also manages to give it her usual stylized class. Forgotten Japanese star Mitsuko Sawamura does a charming duet with Dan Dailey of “Lucky Star,” which is decidedly absent of any cultural condescension.

For the story’s sake, Chuck finally takes Maria out to his ranch to introduce her to his irascible but loving mother (Agnes Moorehead) and his way of life. The upbeat rural charm of “The Gal with the Yaller Shoes” gets the point across, and Charisse is more than game to go along.

However, the real showstopper is a reworking of “Frankie and Johnny” back in Vegas, starring Cyd Charisse with John Brascia (of White Christmas fame) and the vocals of none other than Sammy Davis Jr. Yes, please.

If you look svelte up in the dictionary, it must be an entry on Cyd Charisse. Her numbers usually balance between two poles. There’s something so sophisticated about them, and yet they can be equally provocative. It’s all in the manner she pirouettes, slides, slinks, and slithers with her body. It defies banal description. It’s better witnessed.

How do you even begin to categorize something like this glitzy confection of a movie? The plot makes no rational sense, and there’s no reason to even try to justify it. People don’t act like this, but what do I know? I’m a Vegas novice. It’s also almost two hours long and probably could have used some trimming.

But the operative word is entertainment. Vegas is on full display, and it’s packed with all sorts of decadent delights. Every scene we get Cyd Charisse doing what Cyd Charisse does best draws us back into her inertia. It’s impossible to look away. In the end, it’s almost an afterthought to forgive the ludicrous script because it’s a blast, and Charisse does some more first-rate work.

3.5/5 Stars