POP MUSIC REVIEW : MANDRELL SPOONS ON THE SUGAR IN RETURN

Humorist Oscar Levant once cracked that he couldn’t watch Dinah Shore’s ‘50s TV show--the one where she threw a kiss at the end of every program--because he was diabetic.

If Levant could be that acid-tongued about Dinah, we can only imagine what he might have said about Barbara Mandrell, who headlined the Universal Amphitheatre on Friday night.

Mandrell is so sweet and gushy that she makes Dinah--or Annie and her “Tomorrow,” for that matter--seem like a sourpuss.

Things got especially sticky when Mandrell brought Dolly Parton on stage and thanked her for opening the show.

“Oh, thank you Dolly. I know you’re here because you love me,” Mandrell bubbled.

“No, I’m here for the money,” responded Parton playfully. “But I do like you.”

Mandrell had special reason to be emotional about Friday’s show. It was her first concert since she was seriously injured in an auto accident 18 months ago. To help celebrate her return, Parton agreed to open the show, and another friend, Lee Greenwood, also made a guest appearance.

But Mandrell always tends to be emotional.

In small doses--as in her many TV appearances--it’s not a problem. In fact, it’s part of Mandrell’s appeal, and makes her seem warmer and more approachable than most pop stars. But in large doses, it definitely gets in the way, as does a certain calculation and excess in the design of the show.

The petite blond charged around the stage playing banjo, guitar, sax and harmonica. (Thank goodness no one handed her a tuba.) She also screened a film of her husband and newborn son, and ended up leading the seven-piece band through “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

Even after all that, one wag noted wryly: “The show can’t be over yet. She hasn’t brought out a puppy and an American flag.”

All this sweetness and overkill tend to overshadow Mandrell’s gifts as a singer. Her style is warm and conversational, reminiscent of the immediacy and expressiveness of a Patti Page, yet it also benefits from a raspy, weathered, slightly sultry edge.

Mandrell is at her best on ballads, from the nostalgic “I Was Country When Country Wasn’t Cool” to the poignant “The Best of Strangers,” which chronicles a romance gone wrong. In fact, for someone with as perky an image as Mandrell’s, a surprising number of her songs are about those time-honored country themes: cheating and heartache. Unfortunately, several of the songs were built around trite commercial formulas.

In opening the show, Parton turned in her usual strong performance. Pony-tailed and newly slim, Parton offered the same basic set as when she appeared locally with Kenny Rogers at the Forum in 1984. There was one noteworthy addition: a guitar-based rhythm piece, “Think About Love,” which is this week’s No. 1 country hit.

The key to Parton’s appeal is that she backs up all the flash--the wigs, the sequins and the one-liners--with thoughtful, understated ballads of growing up poor in the mountains of East Tennessee.

Up-tempo exercises, such as “Two Doors Down” and “Baby I’m Burnin’,” occasionally seemed perfunctory, Parton’s vocals cutesy and mannered. But the ballads with her Appalachian memories, including “Apple Jack” and “Coat of Many Colors,” were consistently affecting.

Parton is as known for having as sunny a disposition as Mandrell, but as her “I’m here for the money” wisecrack suggests, she can also be sassy and irreverent. Mandrell could use a bit of that spirit herself.