A rom-com set at the National Barbershop Championships sounds like the setup to a punchline rather than a musical. Yet that’s exactly why Afterglow works. In a world where every note, pinstriped vest and social convention has its prescribed place, the biggest act of rebellion isn’t singing out of tune, it’s refusing to stay in the role you’ve been assigned.

Shy, socially awkward Mike, holds as tightly to certainty as he does to the competition rulebook. Having never been on a date, let alone held someone’s hand, he’s emotionally stunted and failed to launch. When Mike crosses paths with the confident and compelling Tom, a chance encounter grows into a relationship spanning years, challenging not only his understanding of love, but the identity he has spent a lifetime trying to perform.

What makes Sheanna Parker Russon and Lillian M. Hearne’s premise pop is its refusal to deal in heroes and villains. Barbershop is simply the vehicle. It could just as easily be a car club, the local footy team or a weekly poker night. By tapping into the rituals and unwritten rules of a fraternity built by men, for men, they explore the pressures of masculinity with humour and compassion.These men aren’t cruel so much as emotionally unequipped. In a world where trying soy milk is practically revolutionary and blokey banter and drinking passes for intimacy, the laughs come from recognition, not ridicule.

Building a musical around predominantly a cappella singing is a bold choice, but the five-strong ensemble delivers the intricate harmonies with precision and cheeky humour. As the story grows more personal, the cheesy formal arrangements give way to simple piano accompaniment and a subtle soundscape, shifting the landscape from public performance to private confession. Co-directors Cassie Hamilton and Lily Hayman allow these quieter moments to breathe alongside laugh-out-loud comedy, trusting the audience to move comfortably between hilarity and heartbreak.

As Mike, Hamilton charts the character’s physical and emotional evolution as she gradually discovers and embraces Michelle. The transformation is never rushed. Hamilton embraces every gloriously cringe-worthy misstep, finding humour in Mike’s social awkwardness while allowing each moment of vulnerability to build naturally towards genuine self-acceptance.

Opposite her, Nic Prior gives Tom an easy self-assurance that’s quite magnetic. Completely comfortable in his own skin, Tom never tries to change Mike, he is simply living honestly enough to make another possibility seem imaginable. His songs feel less like performances than private thoughts spoken aloud, bringing an authenticity that beautifully complements Hamilton’s journey.

The men orbiting Mike each embody a different performance of masculinity. They stumble, question and gradually grow. As the group’s patriarch, Rupert, Nat Jobe brings blustering confidence to a Gen X man whose instincts are kinder than his words. A lifetime of inherited masculinity has left Rupert struggling to express what he feels, yet Jobe never lets us lose sight of the decency beneath the bravado. He also lands one wonderfully deadpan line about a buffet that perfectly captures both Rupert’s worldview and the show’s sharply observed humour.

As Matt, Lincoln Elliott nails the easy confidence of a young bloke who’s never had to question his place in the world. His interest in Michelle is less about who she is than how she makes him feel, the kind of casual male entitlement so often dismissed. It’s one of the plot’s sharpest turns. As Michelle, Mike is no longer observing that behaviour from the safety of the boys’ club, she’s on the receiving end of it.

Lillian M. Hearne’s fingerprints are all over Afterglow. Beyond composing, arranging and serving as musical director, she also appears as Trevor, lingering on the fringes of the group and punctuating scenes with some perfectly timed one-liners. Her piano accompaniment is equally assured, giving the production’s most intimate and introspective moments musical definition.

Funny, heartfelt and refreshingly original, Afterglow happily borrows from the rom-com playbook, complete with awkward meet-cutes, booze-fuelled confessions, simmering attraction and enough “will they, won’t they?” moments to keep the audience invested. Strip away the heady harmonies, humour and high notes, and Afterglow is about one thing: connection. The courage to speak honestly. The joy of being seen for who you are. And the rare gift of finding someone who gives you permission to become yourself. Every so often – a girl gets her fairytale ending.

Afterglow, part of Griffin Theatre Company’s 2026 Griffin Lookout program celebrating Sydney’s next generation of independent theatre-makers, plays at Belvoir’s Downstairs Theatre until 25 July.

For details see : https://griffintheatre.com.au/whats-on/afterglow/

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