THEATER : ‘Chorus Line’ Material Shines, Even in Small Town U.S.A. : The monologue and authenticity of the blockbuster musical still pack a punch, be it on Broadway or in an uneven production on a college stage. The show runs through July 28 at Saddleback College.

MISSION VIEJO —  This is a confession of sorts:

The first time I saw “A Chorus Line”--it was a national touring version years ago in Chicago--the show scarcely touched me. I thought it was too sentimental, a bittersweet hype about all those would-be Broadway babies of the chorus line whose lives seemed as insubstantial as a collection of mawkish sidewalk sketches.

I could understand how the show had won an armload of Tony Awards, including the one for best musical. The Tony Committee has a too-healthy respect for smash hits, and “A Chorus Line” was nothing if not a certified box-office smash. But, for the life of me, I couldn’t understand how it had won a Pulitzer Prize.

Since then I’ve seen a half-dozen different stage productions of this Michael Bennett musical as well as Sir Richard Attenborough’s unsuccessful screen version, and I’ve done a complete about-face. The more I see “A Chorus Line,” the more it impresses me. Now I can’t understand how I could have missed its brilliance that first time around.

Even an amateur production of terribly uneven quality--such as the “Chorus Line” that opened over the weekend at Saddleback College’s McKinney Theatre--can’t obscure the authenticity of the material. Certain moments of deep emotion, let alone the witty high jinks, inevitably shine through, regardless of the talent on the stage.

One such moment is a deeply affecting monologue by the character Paul, a Puerto Rican homosexual who recalls his innocence and his feelings of humiliation as a performer in a transvestite revue. The monologue can be muffed or mangled but is nearly impossible to eclipse. In this production--happily--Dexter Echiverri meets the challenge of the role and makes you ache for the character.

Paul remembers dropping out of high school after being beaten up by his classmates. Without an education, he can’t get a job until he accidentally lands in the revue. When his parents discover him in drag, to his horror, their mutual anguish is etched in Paul’s memory. But the most indelible detail of his tormenting epiphany is that for the first time he has heard his worried father refer to him as “my son.”

Echiverri, who has appeared in plenty of musicals throughout the county, delivers Paul’s monologue with a profound sense of loss that could melt the hardest cynic. It is too bad that he doesn’t get to sing more. Echiverri possesses a beautiful high tenor, probably the best voice in the cast. But Paul has only one solo, “Who Am I Anyway?” (It seemed mystifyingly shortened in this production and went unlisted in the program.)

Meanwhile, Michelle Bruce, who is just out of high school, delivers another, lighter aspect of the show’s most wonderful material: the bawdy “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three,” a hilarious paean to the advantages of plastic surgery for a Broadway chorine. Although Bruce lacks the savvy comic punch that this song-and-dance number calls for, she still manages to draw giddy laughter from the house.

As good as the underlying material is, however, this production just doesn’t stand up as satisfying entertainment. Except for Echiverri, none of the actors delineate their roles. And no backstage show about dancers--no matter how well-written--can get by without hoofers of at least minimal caliber. After all, virtually the entire plot of “A Chorus Line” consists of a dance audition. The show really needs triple threats: dancers who can sing and act.

Out of a dozen women in the cast there is only one--Suzi Carr George in the role of Cassie--with the true aplomb of a professional dancer. She looks like one, carries herself like one and executes like one. Indeed, she is a dancer. Among the 14 men, there are none. Tom Hafner comes the closest in a small role, simply by making the right moves without fumbling.

Some of the numbers, such as “At the Ballet,” are almost painful to watch because the performers so obviously lack the precision and grace that trained members of any Broadway chorus would display. What seems even more astonishing is that a production of “A Chorus Line” in Southern California--where body culture is rivaled only by car culture--could have assembled as many unlovely limbs as this one.

There are a few passable singing performances. And, miraculously, the show’s trademark finale, “One,” turns out to be watchable. Given the seemingly insurmountable difficulties, whoever whipped that glittering kick-line number into a modicum of shape deserves congratulations.

Also, when taped music has come to be the rule rather than the exception for live, low-budget productions, a note of special gratitude ought to go to the producer and director for providing a nine-piece pit band to lend real verve to the score.

Still, there is no escape from the fact that this version of the classic musical is the sort of college staging that only family members of the cast could love.

“A Chorus Line” continues through July 28 at Saddleback College’s McKinney Theatre, 28000 Marguerite Pkwy., Mission Viejo. Tickets: $10 to $11. Information: (714) 582-4656 between noon and 4 p.m. weekdays.

‘A CHORUS LINE’

A Saddleback College Summer Stock ’90 production. Originally conceived, choreographed and directed by Michael Bennett. Written by James Kirkwood and Nicholas Dante. Music by Marvin Hamlisch. Lyrics by Edward Kleban. This production staged and directed by Ted Sprague. Musical direction by Ron Ellison. Associate director-choreographer Martie Ramm. Associate musical director Ron Mendelson. Scenic design by Wally Huntoon. Costume design by Charles Castagno. Lighting and sound designs by Kevin Cook.

With Cameron Ahia, Michelle Bernal, Michelle Bruce, Nathan Caban, Kelly Cameron, Roger Castellano, William Coholan, Bonnie Constance, Christopher Cruz, Dexter Echiverri, Suzi Carr George, Donna Getzinger, Geoffrey Goldbarb, Tom Hafner, Kent Helwig, Joel Hile, Jim Hippenstiel, Heather Hoppus, Robbie Hulings, Tim Kashini, Kim MacLean, Kristina Maddox, Bret McAllister, Stephen Montagne, Polly Seale and Tracy Terstriep.