Star Power at the Convention : Glitz factor: Though Arnold Schwarzenegger, a Republican, was the biggest star in sight, Hollywood is clearly warming up to the Bill Clinton campaign.

The biggest star at the Democratic convention is--gasp!-- a Republican!

Hollywood, the town with a Roman-candle liberal at the end of every cellular phone call, could only produce supporting players when it came to delivering glitz.

It is Arnold Schwarzenegger topping the list of stars at the convention and the parties that swirl around it like chatter-driven satellites. Conan the Republican made his appearance Monday at the chichi supper club Tatou for the party celebrating the 20th anniversary of George S. McGovern’s campaign.

Why was he there? Well, someday an obscure political trivia question may be, “What unsuccessful vice presidential nominee’s son-in-law was the highest-paid monosyllabic actor in the 1990s?” Answer: Sargent Shriver, whose daughter Maria is, of course, Arnold’s own running mate.

To be fair, there were a few bright Democratic lights. Robert Redford was seen schmoozing in the upper-level convention seats Monday. Barry Diller strolled the floor Tuesday with Diane Von Furstenberg, and Oliver Stone was at every open microphone. In the mid-light category, Laura Dern, Dennis Weaver, Julie Warner, Elisabeth Shue, Bill Baldwin, Blair Brown, Jennifer Grey, Vincent Spano and Richard Masur were real troupers, going to every long- or short-winded forum they were pulled to. Robert Downey Jr. was also flitting around town, making what he called a “nonfiction” film on the election.

The no-shows were perhaps as big as any stars who are here. Cybill Shepherd had to cancel at the last moment, and Warren Beatty had been expected to speak at the McGovern party, although rumor has it that he could still put in an appearance this week.

Meanwhile, there’s been talk--is there anything but talk at a convention?--that Hollywood, which has been lukewarm to Bill Clinton thus far, will jump on the bandwagon after the convention.

“I think we had some bad times, some misunderstandings, early in the campaign,” says Mary Steenburgen, a Clinton delegate who has known the candidate for 15 years. “Bill is someone you have to get to know. You have to listen to him. He doesn’t talk in sound bites. He’s a brilliant, substantive, compassionate person.”

She stops speaking for a minute to hunt through the floor debris near her seat, a recycler’s nightmare of newspapers, Clinton banners and Dunkin Donut bags. The woman in the next row has lost her hair comb, which Steenburgen eventually finds.

The lost comb is the tiniest bit of convention chaos: The crazed atmosphere of the convention is something Steenburgen doesn’t especially relish. She sits in her seat with the slightly appalled look of a shy person, perhaps a distinguished British poet, being taken on a white-water rafting trip.

“I know this is a stupid place to be for someone who’s afraid of crowds,” she says, as the hyperactive throng rises to cheer Sen. Bill Bradley. “A sense of how important I think this is, is that I did come.”

Only a few feet away, Richard Dreyfuss has a more active part in the tumult--he’s taken on the task of mollifying the Jerry Brown delegates. At this convention, they are viewed by the Clintonites in much the same way a 16th-Century Viennese viewed the Ottoman Turks poised to invade the city.

Only in this case, it’s worse. The barbarians have passes to get through the gates.

Dreyfuss’ technique is to talk to the Brownites, reason with them, listen to every mechanically repeated complaint and then say, “That’s fine. But you should endorse the candidate.” He has probably said the phrase more times than he’s said his lines in “Death and the Maiden,” the Broadway play he’s starring in.

Although all the celebrities here have been eager to help in any way (mostly talking to the media), the absence of the big names does leave a gap in the Democrats arsenal. Traditionally, the Democrats have been cash-poor and celebrity-rich. They’ve used stars to “pull focus,” in the words of Dreyfuss. As an example, would the ratings have been better if Barbra Streisand had sung “God Bless America” one night?

According to Shallah Weiss, who’s coordinating the celebrities for the Democratic National Committee, the party didn’t make a major effort to bring in stars. “We didn’t solicit anyone to come,” she says. “The ones who are here wanted to be here. The major spin is on the Clinton campaign. We didn’t want to take away from that.”

One Hollywood activist thought it was just as well the star power was turned down. “When you have a mega-megastar,” she said, “it’s such a hassle with the publicists, the security, the crowds. It’s almost too much.”

For the stars who did come, it was an early morning-to-midnight roller coaster of briefings, conferences and signing autographs at this Olympics of political schmoozing.

“I don’t think of myself as a celebrity,” said Julie Warner, who co-stars in Billy Crystal’s upcoming film, “Mr. Saturday Night.” “But I’m glad I’m enough of one to be able to come to this.”