James Mustapic has been through a lot in the past year. He’s written a brand new show about it. Join him as he pics up the pieces and gets back on that saddle, girlfriend!
James Mustapic has always had a particular kind of stage presence. He does not stride out with the swagger of a seasoned showman or the booming confidence of someone who wants to dominate the room. Instead, he arrives with a softness that feels almost fragile, a tone of voice that makes you want to wrap him in a blanket and tell him everything will be okay. It is the kind of vulnerability that could easily work against a comedian, but for James, it becomes his greatest strength. It disarms the audience. It makes them lean in. And it turns every story he tells into something unexpectedly powerful.
James Mustapic Yourself Up And Get Back On That Saddle Girlfriend is a show built on the contradictions of being queer, introverted, autistic leaning, and public-facing. James has never been the loudest voice in the room, yet he has found himself in a career where strangers feel entitled to comment on his existence. The beauty of this show is how he takes those comments, those micro (and macro) aggressions, those little digs and dismissals, and transforms them into comedy that is both cathartic and genuinely hilarious. This is the peak of what stand-up can be. Turning the negatives into positives. Turning haters into content. Turning the worst parts of being visible into the best parts of the show.
James is a natural storyteller. His stories feel chaotic at first, like he is pulling threads from every corner of his life, but they always connect in unexpected ways. He talks about making YouTube videos with his mum, about flatmates who test the limits of his patience, about the hateful comments that appear under his videos, about the awkwardness of dating, or learning to drive, about the strange friction of being queer in a country where some people still think existing is an agenda. Each story feels small on its own, but together they form a tapestry of what it means to keep getting back up when the world keeps knocking you down.
The show is structured around the idea of resilience. Not the inspirational poster kind, but the real kind. The kind where you drag yourself out of bed because you have to. The kind where you laugh at something awful because the alternative is crying. The kind where you keep making content even when people tell you not to. James never frames himself as a hero. He frames himself as someone who is simply trying his best, and that honesty is what makes the show so relatable. Everyone in the room knows what it feels like to be ground down by life. Cost of living. Fuel prices. Pandemics. Loneliness. Exhaustion. Even if the specifics of James’s experiences are unique, the feeling behind them is universal.
One of the highlights of the show is the way James uses multimedia. Armed with a screen and projector, he brings up Facebook comments, screenshots, videos, and audio clips that elevate the jokes even further. Seeing the actual comments people have left on his content adds a layer of absurdity that words alone cannot capture. It also reinforces the theme of the show. These comments were meant to hurt him, yet here they are, getting some of the biggest laughs of the night. It is a perfect example of how James turns negativity into something joyful.
His delivery is soft, almost hesitant, but the confidence is there beneath the surface. It is a quiet confidence, the kind that comes from knowing who you are even if you do not always sound like it. That contrast is part of what makes James so compelling to watch. He can tell a story about something awful that happened to him, and the audience will laugh not because they are laughing at him, but because he has framed it in a way that makes the absurdity shine through. He is not asking for pity. He is offering connection.
The pacing of the show is smooth and easy. The stories flow naturally, and the laughs come quickly. James has a talent for bringing jokes back in new contexts, weaving callbacks into the narrative in ways that feel clever rather than forced. The audience is with him the entire time, laughing at the small details, the awkward pauses, the moments where he looks like he might crumble, but then pulls himself together with a perfectly timed punchline.
What stands out most is how personal the show feels. James is not performing a character. He is not hiding behind bravado. He is sharing the parts of himself that are messy, complicated, and sometimes painful. And in doing so, he creates a space where the audience feels safe to laugh at their own messiness, too. It is comedy as connection. Comedy as survival. Comedy as a way of reclaiming the narrative.
By the end of the hour, the audience is in stitches. It is an easy show to watch, but not because it is shallow. It is easy because James makes it easy. He invites you in. He lets you see the world through his eyes. And he shows you that even when life is exhausting, confusing, or downright cruel, there is still humour to be found.
James Mustapic Yourself Up And Get Back On That Saddle Girlfriend is a reminder that comedy does not need to be loud to be powerful. It does not need to be aggressive to be sharp. It does not need to be polished to be meaningful. Sometimes the funniest, most resonant comedy comes from someone who sounds like a lost kitten under a bush, quietly telling you about the worst parts of their life and somehow making you laugh until your face hurts.
The show is part of the NZ International Comedy Festival. Find tickets to a show near you here
Review written by Alex Moulton