NOEL COWARD'S Design for Living, as it is now performed by the Huntington Theater Company, shines and glistens, amuses and entertains; it is an enjoyable evening of theater. But ironically, it lacks the shimmer of sophistication which is both the subject and the essence of the play.

Design for Living is the story of three young "artistic souls" and their precocious attempts at worldliness. The settings of the three scenes correspond to stages in the heroine Gilda's conquest of the world through the men who surround her. (One is forced to be forgiving of plays written in the thirties.) In the first, Gilda leaves the Parisian garret of the artist Otto to run off with his best friend, the playwright Leo. The second act takes place in Leo's "comfy" London townhouse, when the newly successful Otto comes to reclaim her. Gilda dumps both men in exasperation, and the third scene finds her in the ultra-chic New York penthouse of her insipid and confident new husband, the art dealer Ernest. By now Gilda, an interior designer, is totally in control, both of her husband and of her high society clientele. Leo and Otto, reconciled, show up to reclaim her, though, and the three go off happily in modern menage a trois fashion and a peculiar mix of sexual liberation and sentimentality. The simple moral of the tale is that "Certain emotions transcend even taste" -- even among the most superficial people.

ON PAPER, the play is truly amusing. The soul-searching and success-seeking of the three main characters would fit in well at any number of dorms in the Yard. The scene in which Leo and Otto, after Gilda's departure, set about getting drunk with refreshing and hysterical earnestness is particularly reminiscent of freshman year. But all three are nonetheless shallow and inherently unpleasant. Unfortunately, the Huntington's production lacks the finesse that would make these sophmoric characters captivating at the same time.

All three principal actors seem to be plumbing their characters for a substance and realism which never was intended and never can be found. As a consequence, they neglect to polish and refine the little details which would have given a rarefied touch to Coward's flight of fancy. Katherine Ferrance as Gilda is appropriately sleek, but one cannot believe that a character who doesn't know what to do with her own arms and legs can skillfully manipulate other people. Richard Council as the painter Otto is a bit too heavy and straightforward, he says witty things, but his tone and presence lack the speed and guile that would let him survive this "measured skirmishing" Kenneth Meseroll as the playwright Leo comes closest to convincing, but even he lacks that confidence in his own fascination which is the pre-requisite to charisma.

The strength of the minor characters underscores the principals' shortcomings. In particular, James Walch as the indigent Ernest and Jeanette Landis as the dumpy British housekeeper deliver the bold, almost caricature personalities which the play demands. Some flawless performances by minor characters--down to Ernest's butler who, though he barely opens his mouth, creates a lively presence--are flashes of what the play might have been.

The play's design--in set, costumes and lighting--would lend itself to superbly elegant still shots. But technical style, like a play's script, is only a platform for the actors to start from. Design is unquestionably a difficult play--neither the situations nor the characters attempt to be real. Nor is the fantasy an inherently charming one. Only a really elegant style could have made these characters fit for a drawing room--or a two-hour comedy.