Midler only leaves the sumptuous peach Ultrasuede couch - the centerpiece of Scott Pask's perfectly Mengersian set, lit with sophistication by Hugh Vanstone - when the dishy 90-minute show is over. (A perfectly placed bit of audience interaction spices up the goings-on.) Yet even before she speaks, Midler owns the place with one flip of her frosted coif. With dynamic direction from Joe Mantello, the star makes lounging and smoking look both lazy and athletic - the very opposite approach to monologue from Fiona Shaw's showy exertions in The Testament of Mary. Which is fine because, kiddies, Mengers has much to say and all the time in the world to say it.