The cast of "La Cage" has gone through a lot of makeup and nose putty in the past 20 years. From left, Crystal Woods (who opened the show and has been with it for most of the run) as Whitney Houston, Sammy Gonzales as Liza Minnelli, Frank Marino as Joan Rivers and Steven Wayne as Cher. Photo by Ralph Fountain. Frank Marino applies his own makeup each night, a 45-minute process of erasing his own features and creating a new face on top. "It's really a painting," he says. He used to have a makeup person, but "it was too stressful if he was in a bad mood. I don't need extra drama thrown my way." Photo by Ralph Fountain. Female impersonator Frank Marino made his mark in Las Vegas by mimicking comedian Joan Rivers. Photo by Ralph Fountain.

Frank Marino and Derrick Barry, who impersonates Britney Spears in "An Evening at La Cage," are hearing good news from Marino's booking agent over the speaker phone in Marino's dressing room: Barry has been accepted for MTV's "Date My Mom."

"It's really sad when he's on MTV and I'm on Discovery Health," says the 41-year-old Marino. He's kidding. Mostly.

So goes the mostly good news that "La Cage" celebrates its 20th year on the Strip on Sunday. It's the Strip's only female impersonator revue and has displayed amazing resilience, given how many shows have come and gone since that initial 12-week booking at the Riviera.

Marino has been on board for all but the first few weeks and has served as its tireless promoter all along. The "openly admitted PR whore" recently was seen in "Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous," and let cameras film some nip and tuck for Discovery Health's "Plastic Surgery: Before & After."

Thursday, Marino was scheduled to be honored with a historical sign marking his residence on a street in The Lakes subdivision.

Good things all. Yet neither Marino nor producer Norbert Aleman are naive about the longterm future of the Riviera, the show's home from the outset, or the fact that "La Cage" has gone from being one of 14 shows on the Strip to one of about 70.

"In those days you became an instant star," Marino says. "I would go anywhere and everybody knew who I was. Now it's so big and so corporate, and people get younger and younger. You gotta stay on top of it. You can't rest on your laurels anymore."

"What we do is unique," Aleman agreed on Monday, while stocking up his RV with supplies he planned to take to New Orleans. "It's hard for me to compete with MGM Mirage, which has 20,000 rooms and can sell their shows in a package deal and sell their own tickets."

While "La Cage" tickets went for $7.95 ($9.95 with a buffet) in 1985, the current price range of $46.50 to $78.50 accounts for commissions to ticket brokers and other marketing expenses not covered by the Riviera

But for now, the show plugs along as determinedly as Joan Rivers, whom Marino has impersonated with and without her blessings. "I'm lucky to have a character that's 73 years old and still extremely fashionable," he says after getting back in good terms with Rivers during her recent stint at the Stardust.

Another thing that hasn't changed is the audience, heavy on older couples. Aleman says the wife usually drags the husband, who complains that he doesn't want to see "that (gay) show." But, he says, "You look at their faces after 15 minutes and they're all cracking up."

Drag wasn't new to the Strip in 1985. Aleman suspects that was part of the problem when the Riviera received anti-gay calls and letters. "Kenny (Kerr) was across the street and he was OK," the producer says of the popularity of "Boy-Lesque" at the Silver Slipper, once a gathering point for locals.

But "La Cage" had a bigger budget for better costumes and lighting. And the perfectly-sized 600-seat showroom was brand new when former Riviera owner Meshulam Riklis signed the revue produced by Aleman and Lou Paciocco in Atlantic City and Florida.

Marino worked the Fort Lauderdale edition and was eager to step in after a brief hosting tenure by James "Gypsy" Haake. "I wanted to live in Vegas since I was a kid," says the Long Island, N.Y. native. "I always said if we got the show in Vegas we would go forever. All we needed was a place where we had a constant change of people.''

Marino says he first dressed as a woman at age 16 on Halloween. "I would say a lot of people try it the first time Halloween." When he won a costume contest as Diana Ross, an agent started booking him at weddings and bar mitzvahs.

"I was getting the makeup from work (at a drugstore) but hiding it from my family. If they saw it, I would say I was working with some models from work on a fashion shoot."

He switched from Ross to Rivers because he wanted to work on a live microphone instead of lip-syncing, and "Joan Rivers was really the only female comedian people had heard of."

Rivers sued him in 1986, putting him on the cover of the National Enquirer and creating "this PR whore you see today." Eventually, the two worked out a settlement in which Marino could impersonate her but not use her material. Even "Can we talk?" now goes unsaid, dropping down as a sign instead.

That was fine with Marino, because his real dream is to be recognized as a comedian. His new idol is not Rivers but Kathy Griffin, whose catty humor more resembles his offstage persona. "That is my life. To work twice as hard to get half as far," he says of her Bravo reality show, "My Life on the D-List."

In his dressing room, Marino diagrams jokes that only get tested after great deliberation. "Just because I do drag for a living, nobody thinks it's comedy. I'm not just a pretty face," he says.

In the near future, Marino says he plans to rein in his self-promoting and concentrate on building a house and working on his road show, "All Drags Are Bitches."

But for now, he still drives to the Riviera each day, checks the show counts and sits down to apply his own makeup; 45 minutes to put it on, even longer to take it off. He has 50 wigs and prefers the hairstyles to be exaggerated because "drag should be over the top."

"I don't want to look like the girl next door. I want to look like the top of a wedding cake."

That explains why the final touch is a coat of glitter on top of the lipstick. "Joan doesn't do that, but you have to do a little something for yourself," he explains.

After 20 years, he's entitled.