When all is sung and danced, "Flamin' Mamie's" is the sort of show you'd expect to find in a tent on the rear deck of a big hotel, beside the tennis courts. And that's just part of the problem.

At $16, the price of admission to the Shoreham Hotel's Terrace Theater, it also gives new meaning to that old word, chutzpah.

With a cast of five backed by a six-piece band, it's a two-act revue set in a Roaring Twenties speakeasy. The performers run through such numbers as "Yes, We Have No Bananas" and "Ain't We Got Fun?" -- usually in key -- and sometimes break it up to muse, "Hey, what about those talkies?," or, "What did Lucky Lindy say on reaching France that happy day?"

The singing -- badly miked, and often overpowered by the band -- runs from so-so to so what; the dancing, with the exception of a hoofer named Vernon Sharpe, is uninspired. And whenever the cast leaves the stage to mingle with the audience -- "Hello, what's your name? It's nice to have you here today!" -- the bonhomie has the smell of desperation. FLAMIN' MAMIE'S -- At the Shoreham Hotel's Terrace Theater for an eight-week run. graphics /photo: 'Flamin' Mamie's'