It's the same in show business, where a star is always on the move -- upward, if possible. These stars are always part of a cluster, too -- producers, directors, script- and songwriters, music arrangers, publicists and, most of all, the fans who love or at least pay to see them. Without those clusters, stars get extinguished.

No performer knows the glitter and grit of stardom better than Lypsinka, whose thrill-packed show, ''Lypsinka! As I Lay Lip-Synching,'' can be seen at the nightclub Show, on West 41st Street, through Sept. 7.

Lypsinka is one of the most gifted and hard-working women in show business. She is the creation of John Epperson, whose performance as the lady Lypsinka is sensational.

Lypsinka's repertory of songs and movie moments (great speeches, devastating one-liners) extends from Bette Davis and Joan Crawford to Ethel Merman and Jennifer Holliday. It also includes those who had to settle for smaller cult galaxies. Her long body is beautifully trained, in command of styles that go from cabaret to film, Broadway to disco, movies to summer stock, nightclubs to bars.

You've heard this kind of desperately fresh arrangement of Broadway hits: Lypsinka cuts the music-hall bounce from ''Get Me to the Church on Time,'' gives it a whiplash tempo and uses a few hip lines (''Get me to the church/ Don't leave me in the lurch!''). You've heard the big number that becomes such an aggressive personal confession (she does ''I'm Alive'' and ''Once in a Lifetime'') that you're forced to applaud.

The women Lypsinka's heroines played on stage and screen would stop at nothing in their quest for power, love or fame. Usually (think of all those film-noir heroines) they despised most of the people they needed. What if these performers feel the same about us, their insatiable fans? That's the conundrum Lypsinka exposes with witty gusto.

''As I Lay Lip-Synching'' is very funny, but it's spooky, too. Here's Lypsinka as the Gracious Trouper on the straw hat circuit. Some people are off summering in Provence, she admits, but she'd rather be in the provinces, bringing theater to everyday folks. ''So it's off to 'skeeter land,'' she says. But we've caught the glare in those eyes, how the voice hardened when she mentioned Provence. That smile definitely looked wolfish for a moment. The moment passes, though, and we get a Broadway musical sampler.

First, there's ''Can-Can'' in a scanty showgirl costume with a vast ostrich fan. Things go slightly askew with ''Lady in the Dark'': Weill and Gershwin's neurotic woman theme brings on a shriek worthy of ''Shock Corridor.'' Then it's back to show business with ''Annie Get Your Gun.'' Lypsinka plants her legs apart, settles her weight like a rodeo rider and turns that fan into a sharpshooter's weapon.

Lypsinka's dark side is usually announced by six cries that sound like Hitchcock bird squawks. Her fingers curl around the air as if they wanted to strangle it. Then the fury is released through snippets of movie dialogue. (''I hate him!'' ''Nobody made me choose my life -- I chose it!'' ''It was an asylum, a mental asylum -- 20 years of pure hell!'' Whenever a telephone rings, she walks mechanically to a different spotlight, and switches personalities.

The blast of Merman's line ''I had a dream'' from ''Gypsy'' gives way to the fluttering arms and bourées of ''The Dying Swan.'' She hurls herself into the mania of ''Dreamgirls'' with Ms. Holliday's ''And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going,'' then keeps yanking herself away to mutter ''I'm goin' back.'' Some audience members recognized every voice and line.

I didn't -- which in no way hindered my pleasure. This is the stuff of our culture and our collective unconscious. Mr. Epperson is making new art from it. When I was looking for a word to describe his method, a friend suggested mixing or sampling. She was right.

The soundtrack Mr. Epperson has designed is matched by his theatrical skills. Lypsinka has mastered several generations' worth: melodrama's abandon and defiance, multiple shades of playful charm, every gestural trick invented to put over a song -- Latin vivacity, ballroom aplomb, vaudevillian bravado. The long arms get flung out in the showstopper's ''V for Victory'' pose. When the head is thrown back in calculated ecstasy at a song's end it is usually angled just a bit; the neck looks better that way and we get a glimpse of profile.

My favorite is a nightclub ballet move. The right leg is in demi-plié with right arm elegantly outstretched, left leg extended and about to lift in an arabesque. Lypsinka folds her left arm upwards, lightly touching her wedding finger to her shoulder.

Mr. Epperson has put together a fine creative team.

His longtime director, Kevin Malony, has expert taste and timing; no visual or dramatic detail is overdone.

Mark T. Simpson's set and lighting design are tastefully gaudy: a polyester lace curtain with black and blue sequins, and bold graphic projections (a martini glass for divine decadence, a white picket fence for film-noir defiance).

Louis Braun gets a ''design'' credit for makeup, and he deserves one, while Mitch Ely's wig is a triumph of upswept, immobile auburn curls and waves.

Finally, there is Bryant Hoven's costume. It is a model of utilitarian excess: a full-length green fringe skirt that hugs the body, and a waist-nipping jacket with a turquoise panel. The skirt is detachable; so is a long scarf that can be pulled rhythmically through the hands to emphasize double-entendres. Remove both skirt and jacket and you have the lustrous brown ''Can-Can'' bodysuit. Then slip into a short formal skirt with a flashing red petticoat and go on with the show.

This is pure theater. Joined to Mr. Epperson's soundtrack, it is something more. Lypsinka is a virtual world unto herself. To watch her is to experience virtual reality live.

LYPSINKA!
AS I LAY LIP-SYNCHING

Directed by Kevin Malony. Set and lighting by Mark T. Simpson; costumes by Bryant Hoven; wig stylist, Mitch Ely; makeup design, Louis Braun; soundtrack engineering, Mercer Media, Alex Noyes; soundtrack selection, creation and design, John Epperson. Presented by T W E E D TheaterWorks, in association with Jared Geller. At Show, 135 West 41st Street, Manhattan.

WITH: John Epperson.