Princess, February 15 Puff Johnson? Or just the Magic Dragon? It seems Worldwide Entertainment found the perfect way to make magic -- by having money disappear from the pockets of unsuspecting concertgoers and reappear in their own.

Tickets appeared reasonable at $35 ($40 at the door) for Saturday night's post-Valentine's Day show featuring US Sony recording artist Puff Johnson at the supposedly luxurious (try frayed and tattered) Hamilton Princess ballroom, but gave little value for money, lending credence to the cry of the rap group, Public Enemy, "Don't Believe the Hype''.

Yes, all the performers showed up, but there were too many gaps before, during and after the acts.

Gaps such as the lengthy intermissions between sets that had patrons sitting engaged in rambling gossip or outside on the patio, or unloading more cash at either of the bars where a can of soda cost $2.50.

Of course, if you wanted to become the focus yourself there was the availability of a large dance area directly in front of the stage, that is if you could navigate past all the tables, chairs, arms, legs, shoulders, elbows to get there.

Then there was the dearth of seating, with several strong-armed men that were forced to forage among the back corridors in order to find chairs while promoters stood idly by.

And just what about the advertised door prizes and draw for two round-trip tickets to New York that had been blared all over the airwaves during the preceeding weeks? There was no draw and, of course, no winners, unless the flowers handed out by the opening act to the females of their choice constituted prizes.

Johnson's performance lasted little more than half an hour and while the sultry soprano stirred the hormones of many on hand, the brevity of her "skit'' served as but a tease.

And there was the absence of a legitimate emcee to properly hype matters.

Doors opened promptly enough at around 9 p.m., which, unfortunately, was not a precursor for the remainder of the evening, one which ambled along aimlessly and ended suddenly.

As mentioned, there was a seating problem for those who arrived any later than 9.30, with one attendant blaring to several late-comers, "I just brought out a batch of chairs, if you don't get one, tough!'' Well, thank you too.

Around 10.15 there was a mumbled announcement by an invisible emcee of the opening act.

Originally a duo termed Strike II, the group was now a trio known as Tri-Star.

Immediately this neophyte outfit grabbed a crowd anxious for something, anything, to break the monotony of what, until then, had resembled little more than an evening out at a local restaurant ...without the food, of course.

The young trio gave the usual, tired call-outs for everyone to say Ho! Ha! and Scream! But soon settled into performing -- over tracks -- covers of latest hits from such prominent recording artists as Keith Sweat, Babyface and R.

Kelly. They were solid, if not spectacular, and achieved the goal of whetting the audience's appetite before departing at 10.35.

However, the enthusiasm was dampened by the near half-hour wait for the next performer and this could not even be explained by a set change or band change.

There were none.

Finally, after another mumbled introduction that did little justice to Johnson's star status, the singer appeared at 11 in a shimmering, black evening dress that hugged her vivacious curves.

Absent were a band, back-up singers, dancers or any accompaniment. Johnson worked the stage and the floor alone to positive effect, running through four tunes from her debut album, "Miracle'', produced by Randy Jackson, showcasing excellent vocals.

She failed in an effort to lure one gentleman onto the dance floor, later stating her admiration of him for sticking by his woman, before exiting stage right at 11.20, leaving onlookers in the lurch again.

Johnson returned some 15-20 minutes later to muted applause and shrieks and this time had better luck luring many couples onto the dance floor, to groove to the ballad "Forever More'', during what would be the final set.

Nevertheless, like Cinderella, all was over by midnight, as Johnson made another quick departure, never to return and never to give those the pleasure of her debut smash, "God Sent You''.

As a disgruntled crowd sat and waited one of the promoters asked Tri-Star to return for an encore, having the audacity to tell the crowd he wanted to give them its money's worth.

Needless to say the trio never returned, nor did Johnson. Instead those that chose to stay had to satisfy them with popular selections of R&B and reggae from DJ Craig (Bubbles) Darrell.

In its first effort at promotion Worldwide Entertainment fell miserably flat, great promises having evaporated in the mist of apparent greed.

Its insistence on cutting corners and false advertising may well have ruined chances of attracting in the future.

People today expect what is offered, all of what is offered. Worldwide, on this night, did not deliver. ---- Patrick Bean REVIEW REV