‘The Hairdresser Mysteries’ Season 1 Review: A Quirky Take on Crime Solving

Sally Phillips has long been a comedic staple on British television, and ‘The Hairdresser Mysteries’ gives her an entire village to showcase her humor. This six-part BBC One series features her as Lily Petal, a successful city hairdresser who leaves the competitive salon scene for a quaint shop on a cobbled street in the fictional northern town of Blossom Vale, only to discover that her clients are full of secrets.

The show debuted on BBC One and iPlayer this July as part of a strategic overhaul of the corporation’s daytime programming, stepping in to fill the void left by the cancellation of the long-running soap ‘Doctors’. This context is essential as it highlights the show’s goal to demonstrate that daytime drama can still attract viewers, which is evident in the confident setting, complete with Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep needle drops and a Viking-themed chip shop that plays its premise completely straight.

Once you dive into an episode, the experience of ‘The Hairdresser Mysteries’ feels like a blend of nostalgia and surrealism. Lily solves crimes using what resembles hairdressing telepathy, extracting gossip from scalps as if she were a psychic with a comb. The show embraces this premise with sincerity rather than irony, making it both funnier and stranger.

Phillips excels in her role, balancing sincerity with absurdity without breaking the spell, while Charlotte Jordan as her assistant Clary provides a grounded presence whenever the narrative threatens to drift away. The supporting cast, featuring gossiping neighbors and quirky shopkeepers, fully embraces their caricatures, and for a series built around cozy chaos, this approach often works better than expected.

However, the series falters in its execution rather than its concept. The production design from the seventies is heavily laden with loud wallpaper and busy set dressing, making some rooms feel more like costume department storage than authentic spaces from that era. Additionally, the wig work struggles to convincingly represent the time period. The plotting also treats its central mysteries with a lightness that borders on indifference, resolving cases almost as an afterthought to the overall vibe, which is a choice that doesn’t always satisfy.

Phillips has described the show as a warm response to a colder cultural moment, sharing with press including HELLO! that the world of Blossom Vale serves as a reminder that people can be peculiar yet still deserving of forgiveness. This sentiment runs through every episode, providing the show with a soft emotional core that keeps the whodunit elements from feeling too cold, even when the mysteries themselves are somewhat thin.

Ultimately, what makes ‘The Hairdresser Mysteries’ worth watching is its complete lack of self-awareness. This isn’t a show that smirks at its own silliness from a distance; it fully embraces its premise, and there’s something genuinely charming about a crime drama that treats a missing teacup with the same seriousness as a Viking longship-shaped chip shop. It may not appeal to those seeking tight plotting or gritty realism, but as a piece of pure tonal commitment, it largely succeeds in delivering coziness.

I found myself entertained more often than not by ‘The Hairdresser Mysteries’, charmed by its unpretentious sincerity, even when the mysteries themselves barely qualify as such. While the wigs and plotting could use improvement, Phillips carries the entire quirky venture on her personality alone, which is certainly worth acknowledging. I would rate it a 6 out of 10.

Did Lily Petal’s hairdressing intuition win you over or leave you cold? Share your thoughts in the comments below.