Since its release on May 30th, 2021,Bo Burnham’s fifth stand-up specialInsidehas been lauded by fans and critics alike as an emotionally raw, clever, and heartbreaking showcase of Burnham’s progression as a comedian, musician, and director. The special picked up three Emmy awards for Outstanding Writing For A Variety Special, Outstanding Music Direction, and Outstanding Directing For A Variety Special at Sunday’s Creative Arts ceremony, marking his first Emmy win. IfInsidewins the Emmy for Outstanding Variety Special (Pre-Recorded) at the main Emmy ceremony on Sunday, September 19,Burnham will tie the record for most Emmys by an individual in a single year.
The Netflix comedy special is both a cathartic portrayal of isolation in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic as well as a self portrait of Burnham’s struggle with depression and with the role he plays in today’s performative, consumer-driven world. Perhaps like many viewers, you finished watchingInsideand sat in silence for twenty minutes pondering the meaning of life before immediately turning Netflix back on and binging all of Bo’s previous specials. Now that you’ve done that, you are likely looking for a new stand-up to watch — one that, likeInside, leaves you laughing and crying in the same contemplative breath. EnterJames Acaster.
RELATED:Bo Burnham’s ‘Inside’ Soundtrack Is Coming Soon to Vinyl and CD
Acaster is an incredibly successful British comedian, but has not quite captured the same level of success in America as he has in the UK. If you don’t know Acaster and have just googled him, you’ll likely recognize him from the “Started making it, had a breakdown: bon appetit” meme that (much to James' chagrin, as we saw in his 2019 stand-up specialCold Lasagna Hate Myself 1999) went viral back in 2019 after his guest appearance onThe Great Celebrity SU2C Bake Off.
The best place to start is Acaster’s four-part Netflix stand-up specialRepertoire.Repertoireis audacious, unusual, and delightfully clever — a showcase of unique comedic talent that isn’t quite like anything else. Acaster bursts onto the stage with theatrical gusto: he paces, he sambas, he kneels, he leaps. But it isn’t necessarily the theatrics that makeRepertoireunique. It’s the fact that Acaster spends four nearly hour-long specials acting not as himself, but as a kaleidoscope of quirky fictional personas, each of which reflect a shade of the real James. InRepertoire, we see Acaster take the stage as an undercover cop infiltrating a gang; a member of the jury convicting a double murder; a beekeeper who sells honey for no profit whatsoever; and finally, a lollipop man, a UK term for a crossing guard, who shows us some groundbreaking bread research.
We’ve all watched at least one stand-up where we thought to ourselves, “This bit seems to be going on a bit too long, right?” Acaster certainly has. At the end of the first episode “Recognise,” he jokingly says, “Imagine that loser. Imagine him, going on stage night after night pretending to be something he’s clearly not. Not just for one joke, by the way. For a whole show. At least I’m not that guy!” This hyper level of commitment to the absurd is something that we see time and time again in Bo Burnham’s stand-up as well, and like Acaster, Burnham is very aware of his own absurdity. Think back to Burnham’s opening song (clocking in at 9 minutes and 27 seconds) of his 2013 stand-upwhat.After Burnham bursts onto the stage with the chaotic energy of a Red Bull ad — ripping off his track pants to revealmoretrack pants, spitting out invisible water, shooting a magical five-horned unicorn, and lamenting how hard it is to be a lizard — he says, “Okay, Bo, this miming shit is getting pretty annoying.”
Underneath the theatrics, however, there has always been an intense and thoughtful self-awareness in Burnham’s work. One of his trademarks is his use of the theatrical as a commentary on his own inner conflicts of self-worth. InInside, Burnham reflects on the internet, or the black hole of “a little bit of everything all of the time,” the platform for us to perform to everyone and no one. What role does he play in this world as a performer? Why does he perform in a corporate, media-driven world that he hates? Why does he need us to laugh? As a privileged white guy, should he just, as he sings, “shut the fuck up”?
But really where so much of Burnham’s conflict comes from is with his own audience. In his final stage number in his 2016 specialMake Happy, “Can’t Handle This (Kanye Rant),” he sings: “But I want to stay true to myself / I want to give you the night out that you deserve / But I want to say what I think / And not care what you think about it / A part of me loves you, part of me hates you / Part of me needs you / part of me fears you.” This kind of inner conflict — the need for validation and hatred for needing it — is rampant throughout James Acaster’s latest stand-up,Cold Lasagna Hate Myself 1999. As part of an ongoing bit, Acaster consciously (and without warning) slips in and out of the “offensive comedian” persona. While it is indeed a bit — and one he openly admits is a dig at Ricky Gervais — there is something unsettling as he gripes to the audience, “Do you have any idea how demeaning this job is? Night after night I’m the one out of everyone in the room who knows the most about comedy, and I’ve got to win your approval. That is fucking demeaning.” Everyone laughs as he keeps going: “Worst is, after I walk off, I’m not free of you.”
In some ways for Burnham and Acaster, comedy is an outlet. But in other ways, it is a trigger, one that we can’t help but notice as we watch Acaster roast us — his adoring fans, his harshest critics — whom he can’t escape, or Burnham, who both hates us and desperately needs to please us. It is no wonder that both Acaster and Burnham have been candid about how comedy has impacted their mental health.Burnham has openly spoken about getting panic attacks on stageand has pinpointed this as his reason for quitting stand-up for five years in betweenMake HappyandInside. Acaster has also been vocal about the toll that stand-up has taken on his mental health, evensaying during his interview on the Vulture Good One Podcastthat he may never do stand-up again.
There are moments during his stand-up when Acaster, like Burnham inInside, drops the theatrics and moves into the delicate territory of confessional comedy. InCold Lasagna Hate Myself 1999,Acaster talks about the worst year of his life in which his girlfriend broke up with him, his agent dropped him, and his therapist abandoned him. When Acaster tells the story of how his agent dropped him, he tells the story from his agent’s perspective. He starts the bit with a sardonic wink, “The first thing you need to know is, I ruined everything, and I did it for a laugh.” This part of the special is Acaster at his craftiest, but also his most confessional. At one point, he is reenacting a phone call with his agent during which he shouts, “The whole year I’ve been having a breakdown, trying my best not to kill myself most nights, and I don’t needyouphoning me up every night of the week to tell me something is all my fault.”
It’s these moments of vulnerability where, as an audience member watching a comedy special, we are left wondering, “…is there going to be a punchline?” The laughter comes to an abrupt halt and we’re left with a confession, something that this comedian has handed to us without warning, when only moments earlier, we were wheezing with laughter. It’s emotional whiplash, but itworks.
Cold Lasagnais a huge departure fromRepertoire, where Acaster spends over four hours as someone else. Yet still, there are brief moments inRepertoirethat hit you in the gut unexpectedly, like in the first episode “Recognise” when Acaster (still as an undercover cop) talks about a former girlfriend who said to him, “I love you, but I don’t feel like I know you.” This sudden moment of intimacy and truth is reminiscent of the poignant ending ofMake Happywhere Burnham walks off stage and sings “Hey, look Ma, I made it, are you happy?”
If you are a Burnham fan and you have just used Burnham’s first Emmy win as an excuse to re-watch the brilliantInsidefor the 10th time, take a quick detour to James Acaster’s Netflix specialRepertoire. Trust us — you will thank us later.
KEEP READING:The Best (and Worst) of Pandemic TV Shows and Movies
