The women of "Menopause The Musical" lay down the truth to a soap opera star in denial. From left, Skye Dee Miles, Vita Corimbi, Satomi Hofmann and Laura Lee O'Connell.

We are so walled in at home by our cable TV, DVDs and TiVo that it's easy to forget the power of a shared experience letting people laugh along with a roomful of strangers.

How else do you explain the national phenomenon of "Menopause The Musical"? The four-person cabaret show that originated far off-Broadway -- in Florida -- looks to be as big a hit at the Las Vegas Hilton as it is in 13 other cities where it's playing.

It isn't well-written, but it's well-performed.

Its message is repetitive and sledgehammer obvious, but one that must have been crying out to be stated in a fun way.

It's not a show for theater people as much for those who have forgotten what it's like to attend a live show altogether. And it never misses a moment to exploit that.

All this I say after attending a "Menopause" matinee as a double minority: a husband under 50. As such, many of the laughs came on the bounce; the punch line from the stage would inspire such howls from the older women around me that I laughed at their reaction.

So if I say the revue seems like a string of song parodies pounded together from a checklist of menopause symptoms, I can assure you most of those in the room with me that day would tell you they were fine with that.

They also seemed fine with the sound of a flushing toilet as a repeated gag, and jokes that make sure they are understood: "Honey, that's no toilet, that's me at night -- the flushing..."

And though the songs are parodies of familiar melodies, there must not be enough old songs in the world to keep from having to repeat a couple. And why wouldn't you, when you can turn Irving Berlin's "Heat Wave" into "I'm having a hot flash ..."

Anyone, however, can appreciate the jubilant performance level, the fact that it's very crisply produced and that it's a perfect fit for the Hilton's cozy Shimmer Cabaret.

The premise -- I would hate to call it a plot -- puts four archetypal women through a daylong romp through Bloomingdales, commiserating and bonding throughout the store after meeting at a sale table.

The revue is double-cast, and this performance included Satomi Hofmann -- familiar to locals from the band Killian's Angels and musicals at Spring Mountain Ranch -- and Laura Lee O'Connell, the only one of the eight to have performed "Menopause" in other cities.

(The other cast is collectively older and more rooted in a theater background, creating the possibility of repeat customers getting a slightly different tone).

Power Woman (Skye Dee Miles, alternately Susan Beaubian) gives a reality check to the Soap Star (Hofmann, alternately Paige O'Hara), letting her know she's not fooling anyone about her age, and that the tabloids are saying she will lose her job.

Earth Mother (Vita Corimbi, alternately Cheryl Spencer) still sports the Mama Cass look and takes Saint-John's-wort instead of Prozac. Iowa Housewife (O'Connell, alternately Marsha Waterbury) talks like Gracie Allen by way of Edith Bunker. She's in New York with her husband's funeral directors' convention and hoping to spice up their sex life.

As in "Mamma Mia!" the song parodies serve as a shortcut to create an instant familiarity. Some of them are as cheap and easy as changing "Don't Make Me Over" to "Please Make Me Over." A Bee Gees combo from "Saturday Night Fever" becomes "Stayin' Awake" and "Night Sweating."

And yet, first-time writer and producer Jeanie Linders also finds some less obvious source material and makes strong lyrical matches. The old Petula Clark hit "A Sign of the Times" is modified to say, "Looking into the mirror, you see your mother." The "Urban Cowboy" theme "Lookin' for Love" makes an easy glide into show-tunery with the words "Packin' on pounds where I didn't have spaces ..."

And husbands who tag along to this as good sports can know some of the songs are barely changed at all. "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" and "New Attitude" can be taken at face value in a revue where most of the songs are belted straight to the audience anyway.

But most husbands should stay home, liberating their wives to join the kick-line at the end without fear of post-show heckling. It's really a private party.