SOME people are famous for being famous. A few are even famous for being both famous and tanned. I had always suspected that George Hamilton was possibly among those very select few.

In fairness, apart from his appearances in gossip columns and, perhaps, TV talk shows, I had only seen him as the stiff legal substitute for Robert Duvall in “The Godfather, Part III.”

Consequently, the opportunity of seeing him make his much-advertised Broadway debut in the musical “Chicago” at the Shubert Theatre was at the very least intriguing.

Was Gorgeous George anything more than a pretty suntan? Well, he certainly makes the least of what hitherto had been considered a rather large part. Even on stage, he has a tendency to disappear.

But it’s “Chicago.” What can go wrong with Fred Ebb and John Kander’s “Chicago”? Luckily, not much.

Although Hamilton – playing the razzle-dazzle lawyer Billy Flynn, that master of acrid smoke and fun-house mirrors – proves a good many leathery shades less than brilliant.

With his face the color of teak, and his movements suggesting the wild vivacity of a cigar-store Native American, his acting and singing could be best called well-intentioned and amiable.

Still, Hamilton – although he should be wary of playing lawyers – seems a nice, rather unassuming guy, so his fans can love him, and the merely curious can write him off to experience.