Mayumana, an Israeli company known for putting on rhythm-based variety shows, opened “Be” last night at the Union Square Theater — a drumming extravaganza with some dance and circus elements thrown in. “Be” has lots of bright colors, lighting effects, physical feats, and live music. For all its hyped-up theatrics, however, it manages to be remarkably dull. If “Be” proves anything, it’s that a string of random acts does not make a show.

At this jaded point in the history of the theater spectacle, audiences have had a chance to become weary of many of the stunts performed in “Be.” Mayumana’s bucket drumming numbers don’t feel so fresh after “Stomp.” The long tubes the performers drum on are familiar from the antics of the Blue Man Group. A stint of clever vocalizing feels like cheap imitation Bobby McFerrin. The black light scenes with fluorescent bouncing balls and scuba fins are poor cousins of the inventive skits devised by MOMIX and Pilobolus.

This everything-but-the-kitchen-sink show also incorporates a wide variety of dance and movement. Performers do back handsprings and handstands. A lithe fellow tosses in a few breakdancing moves. A belly dancer jumps up on a table and starts undulating. Another woman performs a brief flamenco number. People drum on other people’s bodies with their palms.

There are also skits right out of “The Benny Hill Show.” In one cheery bit, performers come out with ping-pong paddles and fake hitting a ball back and forth; the joke is that there’s no ball, only an intermittent popping sound effect to which they synch their paddles. Later, a loud metallic clang is heard each time one performer swings a frying pan at another’s head — or crotch.

There is also a smattering of live music — an African song, a Spanish guitar number, some beatboxing. One man plays a melody using a water tank. Another fellow has the rare talent of filling his cheeks with varying amounts of air and smacking his open mouth to sound notes; in this way, he plays the melody of “Popcorn.”

What, you may ask, unites these disparate elements? Well, the straight-ahead, grinning performance style, for one. And the costumes — slinky, fringed brown-andred get ups that suggest the Weimar decadence of “Cabaret” by way of an Eastern European flea market.

The set, whose patchwork-quilt backdrop, catwalk, and gilt-framed window suggest a kind of downtown take on a circus tent, successfully accommodates the many accoutrements of the show — big garbage cans, tables, boxes. But despite all the rushing on-and off stage, “Be” feels lethargic. It begins to feel like a procession of half-hearted attempts to get your attention, most of which fail.

The directors (Eylon Nuphar and Boaz Berman) erroneously believe that distraction is the key to keeping the customer satisfied. There is something very ADD about this show — every time you start to get interested in something (say, the flamenco number), it abruptly ends — sometimes with another performer darting through the scene to signal the shift to something new. Nothing builds; even the longer acts are monotonous one-note exercises, rather than stories with an arc.

Vaudeville, after all, is an art, the alchemy of which is hard to get right. It’s easy to string together a bunch of disparate stunts, as “Be” does, but the result can be as monotonous as watching a room full of top gymnasts practicing. Sure, they can all do unbelievable stunts, but why should we care?

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