By ALAN W. PETRUCELLI

CONTRIBUTING WRITER

If there's one thing Liza Minnelli learned from her mother, it's that the show must go on. And Saturday night's show at the Cape Code Melody Tent - her first time at the tent since she apprenticed there a a 15-year-old in 1961 - went on even though Liza's voice, still scarred from recent vocal cord surgery, was so harsh, so husky, so painfully hoarse, that it was a faint reminder of Minnelli at her best. But that's not to say the Minnelli magic wasn't in full swing.

If there's another thing Liza learned from her mother, it's how to give a crowd its money's worth (in this case, 65 bucks, even for people sitting on flimsy folding chairs w-a-a-a-a-y in the make-shift back row). She wasn't the Minnelli we've seen at the Winter Garden or Olympia or Palladium or Radio City or Carnegie Hall, the wide-eyed waif whose overwhelming vulnerability exhausted her audience as much as she exhausted herself.

Maybe turning 50 had something to do with it, maybe it's been the last several problem-riddled months of her life - a period Liza calls "hell" - but Liza has finally come into a stabilizing sense of maturity, the often-annoying fluttering and frivolity that made her a drag queen's delight replaced by fears and frustrations. She refused to camouflage reality, acknowledging her seam-busting obesity by rubbing her belly during "Sara Lee," Kander and Ebb's delicious homage to the name on the frozen dessert boxes. And throughout her two 45-minute sets, she addressed her problems and concerns. She talked about how she needed surgery for polyps because replacing Julie Andrews in “Victor/Victoria” was "such a killer. So if I don't get the notes right the first time, I'll do it again and again till I do."

She lived up to her promise, though she was much more successful hitting the glasses of Gatorade from which she constantly sipped than hitting the right notes. Her attempts at "The World Goes 'Round" and "Cabaret" were pathetic - both songs demand Liza's trademark bombastic attacks, but all she could conjure up were breathy whisperings. And though she asked the audience to "wish me luck" as she paused to take a breath for the knockout refrain from "(The Theme From) New York, New York" ... well, you gotta give her credit.for trying.

So her voice ain't what it used to be. So she can no longer kick up those great gams (she's had recurring problems ever since hip replacement surgery). What made this evening so historic was the encore of emotional revelations. After being gifted by the Melody Tent with a plaque naming her the most successful act in the history of the Tent, Liza broke down weeping, telling those in earshot that she was "a mess." Clutching the award to her ample bosom and wiping the profuse sweat and tears with a hanky, she cried, "I have come home! Full cycle, do you understand? It was while working here that I decided to become a performer. You are my home. You are my family." A pause, still more tears. "My mama would be so proud!" Another pause, more tears.

And then Liza did something she's rarely done in public: She sang one of her mother’s songs. "Oh, Mama! Help mel" she cried, looking heavenward. Then she began, hesitantly and without the accompaniment of any music. "You made me love you ..." The notes were uneven and often flat. But it didn't matter. Liza had come home.

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