Tim Robinson may have written a sketch about a performer who cannot speak, but what of a comedian who must politely accept interference? James Acaster decides to test the waters, to endure for the sake of reinventing the often straight and narrow sense of stand-up comedy. The genre is evolving. Acaster is breaching the audience as Stewart Lee did when he stormed around the balcony during a memorable recording which is now over a decade old. Heckler’s Welcome, the latest piece of stand-up from the accessible but well-layered work of Acaster, offers a unique take on a poor comedian’s worst nightmare. Jimmy Carr’s only bit of workable material is put to the test by this HBO experience – one where shoutouts and questions from the audience are not just acceptable, but quietly encouraged.
There is an acceptance from Acaster here for whatever happens. It is to take the one tool a comedian knows they always have on stage away. But it plays with the form a little too much. A provocative green outfit and some segments, like a sketch show with no props, is how Heckler’s Welcome is built. Splicing together set after set is nothing new and it wrestles some control back for Acaster, who can cut around the moments which do not go his way. It undermines the point of a set where the control rests in the hands of an audience but it is fair game for the at-home viewing, where the beats and tone need to be sharp enough to hold your attention, but short enough to make for compact, shareable clips. Acaster blurs it fine enough but the material itself is a bit absent-minded.
From impressions of famous faces as he staggers around the stage to detailing his best and worst gigs, it feels like the idea of this stand-up set as a chance to communicate a new idea overshadows the fundamentals of any set. A few light laughs and tech trouble keep it going, but when the going gets good it cuts, suddenly, to Acaster drumming or playing with a tennis ball. Heckler’s Welcome removes the crucial moments, the pacing between punchlines and the result is sloppy. Director Stuart Laws is trying to add a few new sparks to an age-old format. We should praise those trying something new in a genre which is often bereft of change and too often contained in the family-friendly, faux-live television format. But this is no better, even if it is wildly different.
Acaster is no stranger to reinvention on stage but this is a far stretch away from Repertoire. A bit lacklustre, a lack of charm to it and ultimately the sort of work which will only thrill those looking for the slight anecdotes rather than warming to the project as a whole. It flies by, at least being brief and easy to engage with has its charms but the family stories which are decent fodder for Would I Lie To You? are unconvincing on stage. It is not the delivery or the presentation but, ironically enough, the one constant which must run through any comedian’s stage process which suffers the most. The jokes are half-baked and fall flat not because they are unfunny but because this set lends itself to interruption, which is rare and rarer still when it provides something side-splittingly funny.
I disagree … it might be slow and not as laugh out loud funny as his other stuff but it searingly honest