Broadway hit Shucked is a corn-ucopia of agriculture puns, Southern stereotypes and slick songs

A couple of years ago, Americans started posting pictures online with the caption: “The European mind cannot comprehend.” Gas stations with 120 pumps, dystopian strip malls, hot dog-flavoured water... yup, it’s true, there are still some things that even a near-century of US cultural exports hasn’t prepared us for. Underground Broadway hit musical Shucked feels like a belated addition to that list. It’s a folksy, pun-filled, and very, very American musical comedy about Southern life that, much like a steaming bowl of grits, is probably delightful if it’s the kind of thing you were raised on.

The poster does have a lot of corn on it, but even so, the sheer unabashed corniness of the whole endeavour does come as a bit of a shock at first. The opening number is basically a list of puns and jokes related to the yellow stuff (I can already tell I’m going to run out of synonyms). “It’s the same going in coming out,” the peppy cast sing triumphantly, in a foretaste of the many, many indigestible scatological gags to come.

We’re in the Deep South where a bunch of lovable rural stereotypes are stressing out. Their corn is wilting! Maizy (Sophie McShera) and her husband-to-be Beau (Ben Joyce) can’t get married until this cob crisis is sorted, so she runs off to the big city for help. Only she ends up in Tampa, portrayed as a naff neon playground populated by retirees and fraudsters. Gordy (Matthew Seadon-Young) seductively promises he can solve her little agricultural dilemma, but can she trust him? No darn way! This isn’t a sophisticated story. Shucked initially seems like it’ll be a satire of the dangers of insularity, but Gordy’s arrival is really just an excuse for a new genre of jokes about lust, cheating and the dastardliness of outsiders.

Most musicals have a script. The creators of Shucked, meanwhile, seem to have handed its cast a teetering pile of those novelty wooden signs with quotes on like “Family is telling somebody to go to hell... then wishing they get there safely” and “This isn’t an argument – I’m right and you're just saying things.” These deft one-liners are pelted at the audience at an exhausting speed, with writer Robert Horn seemingly aiming for a literal laugh-a-minute at the expense of anything frivolous like character development or breathing space. His work earned him a Tony Award: again, the European mind cannot comprehend.

What really do translate are the songs, which are unabashedly gorgeous. Grammy Award-winning writing duo Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally have been writing country hits for decades, and it shows in bluesy, barnstorming heartbreak ballad “Somebody Will”, masterfully performed by Joyce, or the subtler, spine-tingling harmonies of “Friends”. Georgina Onuorah is a standout as Lulu, her beautifully voiced rendition of “Independently Owned” airing any number of Nineties pop feminist tropes and making them feel fresh.

Director Jack O’Brien (who also helmed the US run) and designer Scott Pask create a cohesive, oddly charming little world here. A lopsided barn is framed by trees and the outdoor setting does a lot to lend zest to a faintly stale story. Shucked, it turns out, was originally envisaged as a musical version of long-running Southern comedy TV skit show Hee Haw (1969–1992). No doubt it’ll live on for decades, loved by the show’s fans and revived in endless American high school productions, long after it has given London its dizzying dose of good old-fashioned corn syrup.

‘Shucked’ is on at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre until 14 June; tickets here