Norma Talmadge, Carol Dempster, Mae Murray, Nita Naldi, Pola Negri. Do you remember those names? They're just a handful of the big, powerful silent film stars whose careers went up in smoke after the arrival of talking pictures in 1928. The fictional "Norma Desmond" of "Sunset Boulevard" is a composite of these ladies (Murray Like Desmond went off her rocker; Naldi became a drug addict) and Andrew Lloyd Webber found a larger than life almost operatic character to showcase in his musical version of Billy Wilder's 1950 movie, "Sunset Boulevard"

The problem with the stage Norma, wandering around her haunted Sunset Boulevard mansion like a ghoul, is that whoever plays her is compared not only to Gloria Swanson's great Oscar-nominated screen turn, but also to Carol Burnett's memorable 1970s caricature of that same role, offering up Norma as a hilarious near catatonic cartoon version of a forgotten screen vamp.

In the current touring version of "Sunset Boulevard" at the Music Hall, Petula Clark has her moments of poignancy and even a lingering sexiness as a frail and bitter Norma, alternately bossing people around or doing one bravura mad scene after another. Andrew Lloyd Webber's Norma is equal parts Gloria and Carol, with a teaspoon of Clara Bow (another real life silent star who went mad) tossed in for good measure.

Clark's voice is warm and more than serviceable and Norma's showiest number, "As If We Never Said Goodbye," is done with all the stops out, which the opening night audience clearly adored. The show is staged so masterfully (by director Susan Schulman), the audience can almost overlook some of the show's shortcomings (like the awkward murder at the finale with a character stumbling -- dancing almost -- into a tacky cheap-looking "swimming pool") and a few voices that don't quite hit the mark.

Petula Clark, sheathed in one glittering Anthony Powell gown after another, carries the show on her dainty shoulders, although she gets some impressive support from Lewis Cleale as a likeable (if not necessarily tuneful) Joe Gillis and Allen Fitzpatrick -- both stoic and pompous -- as her devoted servant and former husband, Max. A breath of truly fresh air is supplied by the intelligent and attractive Sarah Uriarte Berry and her real life husband, Michael, as two of the more well-adjusted members of Hollywood's screen community; Sarah has a potent stage presence.

The show does boast a rogue's gallery of interesting characters, beautiful costumes, excellent direction and some energetic choreography (by Kathleen Marshall), not to mention a less glitzy, more believable set than the grander Broadway version. There's still a big old staircase for Norma to have her fabled mad scene and Petula, to her credit, proves that Hollywood is a mad, mad, mad, mad world after all.