Review of Saturday Night Live's Trump impersonator in London

James Austin Johnson is a brilliant mimic, no doubt about that, having made a huge splash with his Donald Trump and Joe Biden impersonations when he joined Saturday Night Live a couple of years ago. 

But his live show is hugely patchy, with moments of brilliance mixed with over-long, self-indulgent riffs. Not for nothing does he describe his work as more akin to ‘sexy jazz’ than the hard-hitting punchiness of rock-star comics. Certainly, there are plenty of routines in the good-natured, easy-going hour that gently wash over the audience rather than energise them.

His subjects can also be very niche, especially for a British audience. If you want ten minutes on Willie Nelson’s 1980s country supergroup The Highwaymen  – an outfit that never troubled the UK charts – you’re in the right place. Any subject’s ripe for comedy, and he could have made a joke of his peculiar obsession, but it’s a fairly direct mockery and a lot of people will just have to trust that his impressions of Kris Kristofferson and Waylon Jennings are on point. 

Bob Dylan might be a more recognisable reference –and he quite merrily slaughters that sacred ‘voice of his generation’ cow – but yet another octogenarian target makes it feel like he’s almost wilfully shunning contemporary relevance.

The balance is redressed a little in his mimicry of old men in politics rather than showbusiness. Even in a world awash with Trump impersonations, his is a stand-out, especially the way the charlatan former President can’t stick to a script. Talking in Trump’s eccentric rhythms comes as second nature to Johnson, and he quips: ‘I could do this for two-and-a-half hours…’

In fact, the comedian’s own delivery style sometimes subconsciously echoes that, with trains of thoughts that can peter out until he grasps at something that might pass as a punchline. 

Sticking to politics, there’s a smart skit about the most dangerous people in American public life not being shrill Marjorie Taylor Greene types, but more soft-spoken folksy older men, hiding prejudice behind good manners. The idea is acted out in a skit parodying meaningless ‘anti-woke’ posturing that starts strong but, like so much of Johnson’s work, goes on way too long. Outstaying its welcome is a curse of a lot of American sketch comedy, as  SNL viewers will attest.

Elsewhere, his wondering whether if a sweet Southern guy being present at Columbine would have put a softer sheen on the narrative of the school massacre is a tough sell – and a surprisingly edgy one for Johnson – as the juxtaposition of a whimsical idea with grim reality is too stark.

More solid is material draws on his background among the hardcore conservative religious types of his native Tennessee – which also explains the country music obsession. An early skit recreates the mannerisms of the evangelical youth pastor he could have been in another life, while his nonsensical hymn about Jesus’ Big Black Box is an astute parody from someone who knows that world too well. And he displays a sharp ability to improvise when he conjures up a parable based on a TV show suggested by the audience.

Whatever he’s speaking about the characterisations or mimicry are impeccable –  his Louis CK is so on point you might worry about sharing a dressing room with him. But the subjects are often esoteric and with no real urgency to hit punchline or wrap up a skit when it’s done makes for a surprisingly unsatisfying hour.

Review date: 6 Jun 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Soho Theatre