James Acaster review: Comic genius delves deep into his psyche
ames Acaster already has a reputation as a comedy craftsman, but here he has surpassed even his own superlative standards. The quirkily titled Cold Lasagne Hate Myself 1999 takes us right inside his mind, and out the other side.
As he explains, it concerns the best year of his life, 1999, and the worst year of his life, 2017. The captivating narrative initially shuttles between the two periods, from solar eclipses to traumatic splits with his girlfriend and his agent. There is also a brilliantly self-flagellating account of another break-up, with the gangly tall guy once again the fall guy.
Talk of painful divisions suggests a Brexit subtext and there is an ingenious absurdist routine where Acaster justifies a second vote on the eventual deal by comparing the scenario to restaurants serving meals bearing scant resemblance to those on the menu. Yet ultimately this is his most personal, honest show yet, drilling deep into his psyche.
While this might sound self-indulgent, the way Acaster constructs his story, the way he develops themes and teases out humorous strands, is true genius.
There might have been shows this year with more laughs — though this is doubtful — but there have been none assembled with such winning precision.
Until November 4 (0330 333 4814, nimaxtheatres.com)