Not only that. Constant looks great. On opening night, she was snazzy in her glittering black jacket and tights, and oh, those long, slender legs that she confidently flashes. She is also skilled at acting out the songs, sometimes with a sassy demeanor, and at other times with a wistfulness that conjures up the romance or the sorrow inherent in the lyrics. She also punctuates her performance with illuminating explanations.

Her approach to the material is to sing some of the numbers that led up to the special era of Edith Piaf, and concentrate in on what she describes as “la chanson realiste,” in other words, songs that deal with the nitty-gritty of life, especially relations with men. While she doesn’t attempt to imitate Piaf, she is adept at capturing the mood of a Piaf song in her own strong voice. For example, she infuses “La Vie en Rose” with intense romance, she gives “Padam” vigor, and when she sings “Non, Je ne Regrette Rien,” she evokes the summing up of a lifetime.

Constant pays tribute to Yves Montand and Charles Aznavour with songs associated with them, and she has some sidebar fun with Marlene Dietrich, giving an impression of her singing “When Love Dies” (“Quand L’Amout Meurt”). She notes her admiration for Dietrich, but amusingly adding “when she is on pitch.” There is considerable humor in Constant’s delivery of “Tout Va Tres Bien, Madame La Marquise.”

The delightful chanteuse begins and ends her program with “Song to Life,” with music by Didier Barbelivien and special lyrics by Deirdre Broderick. Her accompanist for the latest performance is once again skillful pianist and musical director Russ Kassoff, and they work well together.

The delightful entertainer has filtered anything extraneous from her performing. Yes, she occasionally makes a revealing comment or shares an anecdote, but she is all about straightforward singing and communicating to an audience the enjoyment she obviously takes from honestly interpreting the many numbers in her well-chosen, broad repertoire.

She also displays some nerve. “This is not done often by sopranos,” she informs us before launching into her soprano version of “Ol’ Man River,” for which Oscar Hammerstein II wrote the lyrics. Darned if the number doesn’t work for her, and for us.

Kern wrote with many fine lyricists. In the early part of her program she sang “Just Let Me Look at You” (lyrics by Dorothy Fields), “I’m Old Fashioned” (lyrics by Johnny Mercer)” and “Land Where the Good Songs Go” (P. G. Wodehouse). Taking two numbers for which Hammerstein II supplied the words, she built up power with “Don’t Ever Leave Me” and “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man of Mine.”

Sullivan titles her current show “All the Things You Are,” and she sang that Kern-Hammerstein song with much feeling. The lyrics of Dorothy Fields would seem to appeal to her, as she includes various Kern-Fields accomplishments in the program, such as “April Fooled Me,” “A Fine Romance,” and the upbeat “You Couldn’t Be Cuter.”

She had fun with the humorous “My Husband’s First Wife” (Irene Franklin), particularly enjoyable to those who knew her husband, Steve Downey, was in the room. On the other hand, when required Sullivan can be extremely delicate, as with “The Folks Who Live on the Hill” (Hammerstein II) and “The Last Time I Saw Paris” (also Hammerstein), a song with special meaning given its history in relation to the sadness of having contemplated Paris under the German occupation.

There is also a charm factor at work. Jungr wraps her songs with anecdotes that define them, and this enables her to establish a remarkable rapport with her audience. When she successfully delivers a number it solidifies the connection. Her anecdotes get an abundance of knowing laughter, and, for example, she’ll take time to build carefully to a punch line such as twitting Barry Manilow.

Jungr jokes about her choice of melancholy works, but some of these achieve her most delicate expression. Her rendition of Chip Taylor’s “Angel of the Morning” is mesmerizing. She shows her range with Van McCoy’s “Break Down and Let It All Hang Out,” starting with a plaintive cry and exploding into a show of strength.

I liked her moody offering of James H. Shelton’s “Lilac Wine,” followed by the softly sexy rendition of Bob Dylan’s “I’ll be Your Baby Tonight,” for which her superb pianist Charles Giordano switched to an accordion accompaniment. He used the accordion again when Jungr effectively interpreted “Chansons des Vieux Amants” by Jacques Brel and Gérard Jouannest.

One particular delight was her imagining the setting for Dylan’s “The Man in the Long Black Coat” as a situation in which a young village girl would toss all caution to the winds and take off with such a guy when he appeared. When she sang, there was an extra edge as a result of the introduction.

An example of how Jungr can make songs her own was further illustrated by how she handled numbers form “Hair.” She took “Ain’t Got No” and “I Got Life” and sung them in a bravura manner different from any way I’d heard them performed before.

When she got to “Felling Good” (by Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley) in her repertoire, she worked up to a stunning crescendo, continuing to sing and gesture as she dramatically walked away from the stage through the applauding audience. Here again, she had given the song a special meaning with an introduction talking about concern for the environment.

Two back-to-back numbers in the course of her program epitomize the range of her skill. Taking on Cole Porter’s “Too Darn Hot,” Ben-David turns on the steam heat in her sizzling interpretation delivered in full voice. Then she impresses with a contrasting turn caressing Billy Barnes’s “Something Cool” in a super calm style that is cool as a summer breeze.

She also has a fondness for novelty, as with Jason Robert Brown’s sarcastic “A Summer in Ohio,” and also with Tom Waits’s “Step right Up,” a rapid-fire stringing together of come-ons from a charlatan hawking cure-alls for everything under the sun—a really funny number that shows Ben-David has a bit of the comedian lurking beneath the pearly tones of which she is capable.

Ben-David, with long reddish brown hair rippling around her shoulders, is a hefty gal with a delicate, girlish face. Past 30, she still enjoys recalling her rebel days at summer camp, where she says she didn’t like anybody including herself. Some of her chatting helps define her persona, although there is a little too much chat that may leave some wanting her to get back the business at hand. And do we really need sing-along in the Oak Room?

Her rich voice is most impressive, as when she sings the Jerome Moross and John Latouche “Lazy Afternoon,” in which she conjures the requisite blend of summer and sexuality. Her other selections include such diversity as “Something’s Coming” by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim, “At the Crossroads” by Leslie Bricusse, “I Miss the Mountains” by Tom Kitt (in the audience on opening night) and Brian Yorkey, “Come Summer” by Cy Coleman and Carolyn Leigh, “Here Comes the Sun” by George Harrison, “Waters of March” by Antonio Carlos Jobim, “Blame It on the Summer Night by Charles Strouse and Stephen Schwartz and the zestful “Under the Boardwalk” by Artie Resnick and Kenny Young.

DeRoy, after chatting about her childhood introduction to theater, opened with a spirited, amusing “Hernando’s Hideaway” from ‘The Pajama Game,” and later sang a hilarious parody of a number from “The Sound of Music.” She said she was getting a little old to sing it as written, and proceeded to rock the room with laughter as she delivered special lyrics by Barry Kleinbort spoofing aging, “I am sixty going on seventy,” with references to AARP, Depends etc.

The assortment of friends included KT Sullivan, who exquisitely sang a medley from “Kiss Me, Kate” with her customary vocal class. Pianist Jon Weber provided a rousing medley from the great “South Pacific” score.

Len Cariou, regaled the audience with a tale of how when he was first sent the script for “Sweeney Todd” he wondered about singing while getting ready to cut the judge’s throat, “Are they out of their f-----g minds?” But on second thought, he figured that it might work if the song were pretty. All of this was by way of a charming introduction to his singing “Pretty Women,” a reminder of what a great performance he gave when the Sondheim work was finally staged.

Cariou and Loni Ackerman did a duet, singing “One of Kind,” and Ackerman went on to perform “Crazy for You” and “But Not for Me.” Another highlight was Debbie Gravitte, who won a Tony as Debbie Shapiro. Singing “Mr. Monotony” from “Jerome Robbins’ Broadway,” she built from the easy-going beginning to a crescendo. She also vigorously sang “Memory,” which further demonstrated what a powerful performer she is.

Stephanie D’ABruzzo, who has personality plus, sang “42nd Street” from the show of the same name and also the love lament “There’s a Fine Fine Line” from “Avenue Q.”

This is composer Charles Strauss’s 80th year, an occasion for his collecting assorted accolades, and he was on hand to play and affectionately sing a medley from his “Annie.” Strauss exudes contagious pleasure when he gets before an audience.

In truth she is ageless, still the icon who has entertained audiences world-wide in her long career, and still able to flirt with the males in the audience and make the gambit humorous and charming rather than gross. “Pay attention,” she sexily advises one man. “You might learn something.”

The familiar attributes are there, including the trademark sound that emerges as something between a purr and a growl communicating animalistic sexuality. On opening night, Kit began with a vigorous medley including “Let’s Face the Music and Dance,” “Let There Be Love” and “L-O-V-E.” The sexual overtones ever present, she subsequently slipped into her ode to high living with “Champagne Taste.”

Of course, there are her signature numbers. By way of an introduction to “La Vie en Rose,” she recalled the first time she heard Edith Piaf sing. Kitt did her lively Turkish number “Uska Dara,” showed some leg and indulged in a bit of undulation, all with a sense of fun. One could bet money that her program would include her well-known rendition of “C’est Si Bon.” It did.

Other numbers included “Besame Mucho,” “What Is This thing Called Love,” “I Don’t Remember Christmas,” “I Will Survive,” and “Alone.” Appropriately, Kitt closed with a rousing “Here’s to Life.” One could drink a toast to that, if life means continuing to keep up the zing and spirit that Kitt still can convey to an audience.

During her show Akers includes quotes from the poetry of Dorothy Parker, an appropriate idea given Parker’s legendary association with the Algonquin Hotel. She has chosen excerpts from Parker poems that dovetail nicely with the evening’s theme.

Early on Akers surprises with the country-style “I’m Checking Out,” with music and lyric by Shel Silverstein. She accents her theme with “Ready to Begin” by Jerry Lieber and Mike Stoller, and with Stephen Sondheim’s “Move On,” then gives a nod to the future with “Where Do You Start?” a number with music by Johnny Mandel and lyric by Alan and Marilyn Bergman.

When listening to Akers, one can always count on total clarity, superb enunciation of every word and crystal-clear hitting of every note. Her poise is impeccable, whether striking an elegant stance, singing in the direction of a particular audience member or gesturing toward her musicians when introducing them. However, in part of this particular program, a sameness of tone creeps in, and one sometimes longs for her to let go more broadly and loosely, as she did in a past appearance.

She does that to some extent with “A Terrific Band and a Real Nice Crowd,” music by Billy Goldenberg and lyric by the Bergmans. The vaunted sophistication of Akers is especially evident when she eases into her French mode to sing “Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien” with every note true and the song itself true to her theme.

Other selections in the current show include “My Garden,” “Between Men,” “The Kindest Man,” “I Had a Dream About You,” “Since You Stayed Here” and “At the Rialto.” Akers injects particular passion into “I Was Here” (music by Stephen Flaherty, lyric by Lynn Ahrens), and you can say that about Akers herself. She certainly is here, commanding a room once again in her inimitable style.

They got underway with a lively rendition of “Up, Up and Away,” with Davis following vigorously with “In the Midnight Hour.” In rapid fire the team launched into a super medley of “Go Where You Wanna Go,” “You Don’t Have to be a Star,” “Solid Gold,” “Just a Lucky So and So,” “Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man,” and “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.”

McCoo spoke of the influecne Laura Nyro had on her, and delivered Nyro’s “Wedding Bells.” Davis excelled with a strong “A Change is Gonna Come.” The couple interspersed comments about their lives and work, and at one point McCoo passionately sang what she called her favorite torch song, “One Less Bell to Answer.”

Singing tenderly to each other, the couple performed “You Are So Beautiful” and created a similar I-love-you feeling with “How Do You Keep the Music Playing?” By the time they got to “Let the Sun Shine In,” the audience joined in with hand-clapping gusto.

For one thing you have to hand it to George Halley for the evocative Ziegfeld-style costumes, and Margret Fiedler for those eye-catching hair and headdress designs. The look of the show provided just the right aura. The appealing cast and Gillette did the rest, along with executive producer/director Mark York providing the zestful piano accompaniment.

What would a Ziegfeld memory lane trip be without showgirls? This production, choreographed by David Auxier had three of them, Merrill Grant, Sagan Rose and Lexi Windsor, different types skilled in provocative movements, grace and perky, flirty attitudes that showgirls are expected to deliver. Rose and Lexi were the taller showgirls. Grant was winsome as the especially lively, cute contributor.

Gillette, who sang the provocative “Lovie Joe”, also gave a most unusual and interesting interpretation of “You Made Me Love You,” which she made very much her own. Gillette looks great and she’s always enjoyable to hear, what with her wide Broadway show background and talent that I’ve watched her hone since she first became a hit in “Carnival.”

The music is sometimes more interesting than the lyrics, and Cross performs with an ultra laid back manner, mostly gazing straight ahead as he accompanies himself on the guitar and becomes immersed in lyrics into which he obviously injects his personal feelings about love and life in his soft-mannered, sweet vocal style.

Pleasant in a humble, unpretentious way, Cross is not a performer to ignite a room, but those who admire his compositions and his simple, straight-forward style are more likely to appreciate such signature songs as “Sailing” “Ride Like the Wind,” “Never Be the Same,” “Think of Laura” and others that he has penned and recorded with success.

The performance gets livelier near the end of the trail when he sings the bouncy, up-tempo “Ride Like the Wind,” for which he wrote the words and music. His best and more satisfying work is “Arthur’s Theme (Best That You Can Do),” for which he won a 1981 Oscar, but that is one on which he was part of a collaboration that included Burt Bacharach, Carole Bayer Sager and Peter Allen.