Alexander Bennett is 31, still renting and he hates himself. He believes that the era of self-love has gone too far and he is attempting to counteract it by a tight hour of hilarious self-loathing.
He starts with some generally amusing but slightly toothless observational comedy about the London rental market before getting to the crux of the show, the four reasons he hates himself: his appearance, his innate feeling he is a bad person, everything he has done, and everything he has not achieved.
You might think that an hour of unvarnished comedy about one man’s self-hatred would be depressing but Bennett maintains a light-hearted joviality throughout that allows the audience to trust him and sets him up for some home-run dark comedy later in the show. He attributes this to ‘performative confidence’ rather than real confidence, which is entirely believable in the more genuine floundering moments between punchlines and the self-conscious readjusting of his shirt. Nevertheless, his performative prowess is evident; he works with the small black-box space by making pointed contact with the audience and light conversation with the tech operator. Bennett clearly knows what he’s doing, he carefully traces the outline of dark comedy, never having it accidentally veer into bad taste.
For a concept so close to the self it, at times, lacks honesty. Bennett struggles to stamp out his own style and can always be heavily likened to other great comics in a way that probably hinders more than it helps. The sparks we see are when Bennett gets close to the truth, talking candidly about the flaws in his last relationship. But even this is done through the medium of fairy tale. Bennet is suffusive in his honesty and his niche likely lies in facing the truth.
Ultimately, Bennett’s show emerges as a testament to the power of comedy to illuminate the human experience, offering both catharsis and camaraderie to those brave enough to confront their own inner demons alongside him. He has crafted a well-structured, well-written and confidently performed work of darkly rateable comedy that has the audience howling throughout.
Runs until 30th April 2024
