Performance Art : Sandra Bernhard Gets Down to the <i> Her</i> of It

Sandra Bernhard is wildly, madly full of herself--narcissism in overdrive, when being self-obsessed is the best obsession of all.

You should have seen her at the Coach House in San Juan Capistrano Friday, where she introduced the very rough edges of her latest show, a rock ‘n’ roll, yakety-yak excursion called “One Is Not Enough.” Shortly after an earnest stab at Guns N’ Roses’ “Sweet Child of Mine,” Bernhard snuggled up to the microphone to tell the sold-out crowd what was going down.

“It’s all about love . . . all about getting closer,” she said slowly, then cut to the chase. “It’s all about me , darlings.”

And so it was. Bernhard kept that pouty cavern of a mouth open wide, meditating on her own “sexual ambiguity,” her “affair” with that “kooky” Madonna (Bernhard’s most reverberating claim to fame yet), her infatuation with designer clothes, her love of Jacqueline Susann novels, her missing a Cat Stevens concert in high school, her this, her that, her ups, her downs.

She’s raised a career by assuming that even a minor celebrity is fascinating, especially when their orbit comes in touch with bigger planets, like Madonna. If you see all this public reflection as a comic slash at a pop culture that’s just too wild about fame, then Bernhard certainly has her moments as a satirist. If you don’t, then she’s reduced to being funny in a self-immolating way, but also thoroughly irrelevant.

As for this latest enterprise, well, Friday’s performance showed that she’s got a lot of work to do. The beginning was especially disconnected as Bernhard, despite all the beguiling artifice (she came out wearing rhinestone panties, a black lace bra and fishnets) and provocative asides (she showed off her breasts during an on-stage costume change), often lost the momentum.

Unlike her previous one-woman show, “Without You, I’m Nothing,” which was tightly organized within its wryly personal framework, here she tended to dawdle, looking like someone waiting for something to pop into her head.

Bernhard’s backup band, the Strap-Ons, did a serviceable job on her high-dives into a song list that included Prince’s “Little Red Corvette,” Bob Dylan’s “Lay, Lady, Lay” and Aerosmith’s “Dude Looks Like a Lady.” Her voice? Not as good as she probably thinks it is, but not terrible. She should avoid those high notes, though.

Bernhard’s most sustained routine came near the show’s end, when she played less of herself and more of a character. There she was, an eager girl all pumped up with fake confidence, ready for a chance to meet that special guy on the dance floor of the Red Onion, of all places. Bernhard’s pantomime was hilarious, raw and honest: No stars, nobody dreaming of stars, nobody hoping to become a star, just somebody trying to get through the night.