Multi-national operatic band Il Divo crooned their way through an hour and a half of cheesy hits - and went down a storm.

Not to everyone's taste, the guys unfurled their brand of "popera", welding operatic performance with teeny-bopper chart fodder before a stage backdrop of Roman ruins.

Surely much of Il Divo's appeal, apart from the borderline smarm which was evident here - television pictures before the show pictured them having blusher applied - is their multinational status.

Carlos, the Spanish one, Urs, the Swiss, Sebastien, "the Frenchie" and David, the American, are likely to find an audience more or less everywhere they travel.

Add in the fact they sing mainly in Italian and you can picture their manager rubbing his hands in delight and muttering about demographics.

But is their music any good? Well, Il Divo's voices were certainly powerful and all an opera singer's should be, dominating when necessary, easing off to the point of delicacy at others.

Performing Isabel, Unchained Melody and All By Myself with precise aplomb, each member took turns to showcase their vocal power without it trying to outdo each other.

Greasy Carlos took every interval between songs as a green light to chat up the women: "Would anyone like private Spanish lessons?"

At the end a hoard of women ran up to the stage to hand out roses, offer telephone numbers and cards. Two albums (Il Divo and Encore) into their career, they are clearly doing something right.

Purists will cringe but Il Divo will just keep crooning.