Steven Brinberg has to tread a very fine line in his performances as ‘Barbra’, for who is likely to be making up his audience other than Streisand devotees mixed in with the occasional detractor (a curmudgeonly partner, perhaps, dragged in by their star-struck other half)? The latter will look for a searing illumination of the more ill-advised choices of the singer’s career, the former will bristle at anything that seems cruel or inaccurate, whilst both parties are more than likely to be highly knowledgeable about the tiniest details of the subject in question.

Brinberg glides effortlessly through this potential minefield, complete with statutory parenthetic hairstyle and empire-waisted gown, evoking a composite Streisand from her five decades of performing. His secret is to balance highly detailed mimicry of the fads and foibles that have characterised the diva’s career with self-evident admiration for what makes her a peerless star. The blending of keen observation and genuine affection result in a wickedly funny evening that at times leaves those in the know helpless with mirth.

Above all with Streisand, it’s the voice. Brinberg has worked hard to create a likeness that is partly a caricature, embracing the sudden sweeps and nasal resonance, and partly an accurate copy of a very distinctive vocal instrument. At times, therefore, we are utterly convinced that we are hearing Streisand singing the most celebrated songs in her repertoire (sustained passages of ‘People’ and ‘The Way We Were’ could be mistaken for the original) and then we are swiftly reminded that this is another ‘Barbra’, as the singer’s habit of suddenly descending into a whisper or panel-beating a perfectly ordinary phrase into something just this side of comprehensibility are unleashed on an unsuspecting lyric.

It seems that every one of Streisand’s many incarnations is invoked and rationalised with her trademark earnestness, thereby heightening the irony. Barbra’s fondness for ‘projects’ offers Brinberg the opportunity to throw in a host of other impersonations of great divas singing hysterically improbable songs. From Julie Andrews to Bette Davis, no female performer seems to escape ‘Streisand’s’ guiding hand, or Brinberg’s acute gift of mimicry. This debunking of what seems to her detractors to be a monstrous ego never steps over the line, however; it’s always gentle, always forgiving. The most ardent of Streisand fans, perhaps even La Streisand herself, could sit through the evening without discomfort. Well, perhaps not the latter.

Brinberg never steps outside of his character; an important factor in maintaining the illusion and holding the audience and although the vast majority of the evening is great fun, some moments are very touching (‘In Brolin’s Eye’s in particular) whilst those who simply love Barbra Streisand are constantly reminded of the great talent and vocal qualities that make her ‘the greatest star’. If you’ve ever wondered about catching this act, have no fear, for whether you love her or loathe her, you’ll certainly feel you know her when you’ve spent an hour or two with ‘Simply Barbra’.