Two Hearts

Review by Jess Soutar Barron 

I just took my teen to the big smoke for a pop concert. A huge one with sweat and merch and shout-outs and screaming and that thing people do when they turn on their cell phone torch and wave it in the air like it’s a lighter. And she loved it. Couldn’t stop raving.

Then I took her to this, which was panty-liner level laughs from about 6 minutes in, and I turned to her to see what she thought and she gave me the ‘duh’ look and drawled “Pro-cess-ing….”

Two Hearts did take a moment to land. None of us seemed quite sure what to do with this bubble-gum, pop-comedy duo. But then they set-up a gag about how they can’t do covers cause they haven’t got the copyright. The joke landed smoothly...we were off.

From there they had us ROFLing. Easy gags, witty lyrics, slick beats, bubble machines, fog machines, wind machines: like an IRL version of this year’s smash-hit Eurovision: The Story of Fire Saga (see it on Netflix if you haven’t already).

Packed with fun costume changes, beatboxing, inappropriate nostalgia, and dancing girls in dolphin heads, Two Hearts delivers a great show that fits into the Kiwi comedy collection. They can’t really sing but they certainly can smash out a half-decent rap break, and Joseph Moore does a sensational Eminem/Dave Dobbyn mash-up. Plus, it’s refreshing to see self-deprecation is still funny.

Laura Daniel holds the whole thing together, blending pop-icon razzle-dazzle with just enough down-home frump to make her eminently likeable. She enjoys the jokes as much as the rest of us and has a self-assurity that makes us all feel at ease even when the subject matter is cruising towards cringey.

Although they did get there eventually - to the laughs and to their R16 rating - this fine double-act could have done with a later slot or a looser audience, their banging Boomer track maybe hitting a little too close to the bone for this capri-pant-blonde-bob crowd.

Two Hearts is either exceedingly deep or irresistibly shallow. It’s equally tits-and-bum, and metatropes on topical themes (cue: covid, climate change, cyber sex). It says a lot about our current era: punching down, slut shaming, revenge porn, getting woke, being a boss. The climactic mega-hit centres on PMS with a catchy hook we sang all the way to the car - “Oops did I say that?” - still LOLing about the dancing sani-pads and the gush of red glitter floating out into the front row. 

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