James Acaster: Cold Lasagne Hate Myself 1999

James Acaster

I’ve never been a fan of your typical insult comic, but I think it’s fair to say that James Acaster is anything but typical. For the first fifteen minutes of his 2019 show, Cold Lasagne Hate Myself 1999, Acaster derides his audience, both past and present, in an attempt rid himself of that which has previously held him back.

For those who are fans of Acaster, rest assured that this edgy new persona is actually a guise, a set up allowing him to be more explicit and personal with his material. It is a brilliant device from a comedian who is giving his audience everything he has. There has always been a sense of anger behind the mask of seemingly nonsensical logic from Acaster. This time, he’s simply tipped the scales in the other direction, yet continued to allow his absurd metaphors to coalesce into a thematically pleasing whole.

Taking us through the worst year of his life, involving both a romantic and business break up, and an embarrassing anecdote, Acaster skilfully subverts the direction of all three and stretches them into over an hour of not only comedy, but also therapeutic catharsis. It’s the kind of depth developed over a career that can only make you excited for what comes next.

Though literally no one can claim complete empathetic understanding of his first two stories, there is a universality to them that is genuinely touching. At moments, the honesty is heart-breaking. But Acaster is, ironically, not the angry young man he claims to be. While he can extend a seemingly minute point into a third of the show’s duration, it never comes across as bitter resentment or unhealthy dwelling.

If you haven’t seen his Netflix specials, the homework definitely pays off. Acaster may joke that he hates New Zealand, but this is his fourth time attending the NZ International Comedy Festival, and his Kiwi-specific jibes reveal an understanding that only comes with love. And based on a sold out season, it’s no secret that New Zealand loves him back.