Barbershopera II review
Live Review
Trafalgar Studios

Poor old barbershop. As an entertainment it seems as contemporary as plate spinning or repeatedly smacking yourself on the head with a tin tray.

Valiantly trying to turn back the tide are the talented young quartet of Barbershopera, not taking themselves at all seriously with this good-natured comic romp set in the, ahem, cut-throat world of hairdressing.

This demanding four-voice musical starts fairly soberly, raising the spectre that it’s not going to be too far from the twee Oxbridgey image that pretty much did for the close-harmony form. But it’s not long before the formality yields to a spirited, silly, but wonderfully sung epic tale, realised on a credit crunch budget.

The all-too-conveniently intertwining plot concerns Esteve, a flamboyant Spanish matador transported to the sleepy village of Shavingham, where he finds he has inherited his estranged father’s barber shop, and must now avenge his death through a dramatic ‘cut-off’ with the poncy owner of a rival unisex salon with only two people to teach him the art of hairdressing – the female town cryer/love interest/aspiring seal sanctuary owner and a man with a morbid fear of scissors.

Such unlikely storyline is pretty much the only thing the quartet have lifted from opera, despite their name. It provides all the requisite melodramatic elements: the couple who hate each other at first though they are clearly destined to be together; the conflict that will be resolved in a single dramatic event; and the swaggering but ultimately heroic central character.

All this nonsense is handled with a deft, light touch, with every scene infused with a playful spirit that flirts with the knockabout but stays (reasonably) credible. Likewise, the brisk script contains some of the comedy elements you might expect – jibes about unsophisticated rural life, song pastiches, unsubtle innuendo from the lascivious Latin lover – but they are carefully rationed and done with great dollops of affectionate likeability.

Technically, it’s as tight as a drum, with the four accomplished singers producing an impressively focussed a cappella soundtrack, while still having enough fun with their preposterous story to make for an entertaining 80 minutes. It’s a cross between farce, surreal comedy and cabaret – a sort of Follicles Bergere, if I can be permitted a second hairdressing pun.

Robert Castell, who co-wrote the show with Tom Sadler, steals every scene his Esteve is in, thanks to his expressive features and clown’s sensibilities towards physical humour; while Lara Stubbs, the only female member of the troupe, has a deliciously underplayed charisma. Sadler and Pete Sorel-Cameron have more supporting roles, but still demonstrate a versatility and engaging stage presence.

The fast-paced, tautly directed (by Sarah Tipple) show keeps the action, the gags and the general nonsense coming – while ensuring the story retains a genuine heart to keep you absorbed throughout. With remarkably accomplished and effortlessly enjoyable comedy such as this, barbershop might just regain some of its long-lost kudos.