It Is Unusual

Nothing makes you feel quite as young as seeing a play at a matinee.

Seated amongst a sea of white hairs and no hairs, it's hard not to feel a tad smug about bringing down the average age in the room. Even so, when you're seeing a musical about barber shop quartets, you might still wonder what you're doing there.

In an hour and 45 minutes, Virginia Rep at Hanover Tavern ably proved why you can't always judge a play by its crowd. Luckily, I had a friend willing to gamble on it with me, picking me up and taking my preferred route up 301 to get there.

In between admiring the majestic cloud cover and bucolic scenery, he asked what the play was about and I kept it brief: a quartet loses a member and replaces him with an unlikely candidate.

"The Fabulous Lipitones" told the story of four guys who'd been singing barbershop together since high school. The stage was set at a funeral and my friend looks at the framed portrait next to a flower arrangement, observing, "That must be the deceased Lipitone"

Bingo.

Andy Lipinsky, long-time leader of the Lipitones - hence the name -dropped dead at the regional barbershop singing competition, losing out to the Sons of Pitches.

One of the remaining members wants to replace him and go on to the nationals. One wants to end it because he feels the group has run its course ("Admit it, who here has ever gotten any action because of singing barbershop?") and the third is ambivalent.

The set was classic rec room, well executed: wood-paneled walls, a ship's wheel on the bar, Old Milwaukee sign, cigar store Indian, Bee Gees sheet music on the upright piano.

Into this bastion of Americana comes Bob, an Indian posing as a nomad, with a voice that's just what the trio needs, at least once they rid him of his vibrato (there's no vibrato in barbershop singing, we learn).

So the mild-mannered musical about an old-fashioned singing style ("Doo-wop is dead, barbershop is extinct") becomes a witty play about stereotyping and racism ("You weren't giving me a hard time when you met me. That was simple racism.").

Even without qualifying for Medicare, I came away with a new appreciation for a style of singing that aims for four voices to sound like one.

Some very funny scenes revolved around pharmacist Wally, still a virgin and living with Mom, signing up for a dating site, whitecoatlove.com, where women are referred to as "pharmacettes."

The undisputed star of the show was Levin Valayll, who played the newcomer with sunny optimism and an openness to seeing each man for who they really were and not how their long-time friends saw them.

And by the time they get to the nationals, they're doing a global medley of Indian songs (dead rabbits and princesses), sea shanties and Tom Jones (incidentally my Richmond grandmother's favorite singer).

The play ended there, so we'll never know if they beat out the High Colonics ("we don't want to go after the High Colonics") or the Chumps from Short Pump.

What I do know is that matinee crowds don't leave their seats at intermission (I was one of two who did), barbershop singing can be beautiful and I'm a big fan of Indian techno music.

It's enough for now, anyway. My matinee will come.