The Best Things I’ve Ever Heard (About Improv)

When you’re talking about improv to the point where someone accidentally falls asleep, you know some gems are about to bestow themselves on to you. Some of them are half asleep attempts at rationalizing how to edit within a two person group and those are nice, but sometimes you hit the real nugget that makes you think heavily about improv in a way that you’d never expect. This is my attempt to share the best things I’ve ever heard about improv and why they seem important.

“Have Fun”

I think this one we’ve all heard, but it doesn’t make it any less important. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been doing it or how many classes or workshops you’ve gone through, if you’re not having fun, something’s wrong. It seems like such a simple thing to do but is probably the most difficult thing to do once you’re an adult. When we are children fun is just a part of the deal, but somewhere down the line that changes. All of the sudden we become self-conscious and wonder what people think of us and now all of the sudden we are ashamed to wear dirty sweatpants in public because of how people might view us. And wearing dirty sweatpants might be really fun. The thing about fun is that it’s always there. At any point in our lives there exists a potential for fun, be it on the train, at work, or when you feel like you’re doing meaningless work. Fun is like air, it’s all around us, we just can’t see it. So if you ever think, “I’m not having fun on stage, how do I fix that?” start by having fun off stage, worse case scenario: you have FUN.

“Be Yourself”

I was recently in Chicago and got to sit in on a friends rehearsal and my mind towards improv was shifted with the words “It’s ok to be you”. In improv we have a tendency to mask ourselves and our truths because we are on stage and we feel like we need to play a character that is not us. I definitely thought this way and most of my characters ended up being two-dimensional as a result. However, when you play a character but you add your personal spice and flavor to it through your own truths and opinions on things, the character becomes alive because we no longer have to force truth to let it flow naturally from us. We all have opinions on things in some way, shape, or form and it’s ok for these truths to come out during a set. If you feel self conscious thinking that people will hear your opinions on something, guess what? The audience won’t think it’s you, because you’re playing a character. As people we all have different opinions on things and that’s what makes our opinions so beautiful is that they are different and should be shared in a place where there is no right or wrong.

“Aim for Excellence”

I was listening to a Improv Nerd podcast with David Pasquesi recently and he said that whenever he does a show he doesn’t aim for funny but rather for excellence. He says that if you aim for funny, you’ll most likely hit something below funny and that’s not good, but if you aim for excellence, you will end up having a great show or a funny show even. This is not to say that there should be any pressure on the set to be excellent and anything else won’t suffice, it’s that whatever mindset you approach the set with is usually how it will end up. Kanye West has a line in his song Homecoming that goes like this “Reach for the stars so if you fall you land on a cloud”, this exemplifies exactly what Pasquesi is talking about, we may not reach the stars but by shooting for them, you’re going to end up a lot closer to that goal than if you sell yourself short. Aim for excellence, but don’t be downtrodden if you don’t hit it. Perfection is an unattainable ideal, but we can accomplish great things by trying to get there.

“Never let improv become the most important thing in your life”

I first heard this a couple years ago when the Second City Touring Company came through town and one of the members told me this. This almost seemed hypocritical at the time because after all, when you’re on Tourco, isn’t improv your life? I realized later what she meant by this. Improv can never become the most important thing in your life because the second it does, you have nothing to bring to the stage. What makes improvisation great is that it is completely based off of us, we like to say audience suggestion, but let’s face it, everything is because of the people you are on stage with. We each bring interesting viewpoints to the stage and no two people will think the same about everything. If improv becomes our top priority we also lose track of our lives around us, and let’s face it there are plenty more things in life that are more important than improv, but it doesn’t make improv any less amazing.

“Remember how fortunate you are”

This one comes from a guy who asked TJ Jagodowski what he thought about before stepping out before a show, the first two are nice: Don’t Panic and Make an Emotional choice so you’re safe. But it was this third one that caught my eye. We really do need to remember how fortunate we are to be able to do what we do. In perspective, we are incredibly lucky that we have led lives that have made us come to this point to do something not everyone gets to do. I am always blown away by the fact that people will pay money to come see a show where everything is made up right then and there. We also are fortunate enough that we get to provide the world with laughter, which, according to the Muppets is the third greatest gift in the world. But what I like most about this quote is that it reminds me of the mantra for my mother’s non-profit organization which is “To serve is a privilege” and the more I think about it, it truly is a privilege to serve and help people. It is also a privilege to be able to step up on a stage and have a great time and make people laugh. We have been given a great gift and we must always remember how fortunate we truly are.

Here’s a picture of a kitten to remind you how fortunate you are to be able to look at pictures of kittens.

Making Improvisers into Impromeisners

I’ve had this theory for a while that the best improvisers I see are not only great improvisers but great actors and vice versa. There’s a few reasons for this, one being the plainly obvious fact that if you can’t act, you’re not believable. As an improviser if you aren’t believable, nobody wants to watch you because despite the fact that not everyone is an actor, everyone knows how to spot a terrible one. We know when people are lying and we sure hate it when they do. But I believe that great actors could be, or are already great improvisers for the same reason. They bring a natural quality to the performance along with the ability to not be locked into a performance so much that they don’t allow any room for change or surprise. Let me try to distill this:

Speaking of bad actors and good actors...

Bad Actor Says: I was supposed to cry on that line, can we try it again? So I can cry.

Good Actor Says: I know I was supposed to cry, but it didn’t feel truthful then.

Which brings me to my point for improv, truth is the keystone for improv, right? Therefore, if you aren’t truthful and honest in a performance you are lying, and like I said before, people hate lying. However, there is a way to work on this through an acting technique by Sanford Meisner.

Now acting people who are reading this are probably going to stop right here because of the horrible memories of months of repetition exercises. But if you hang out, I might be able to sway you. I coach a short form improv team at the Bovine Metropolis and at the last two rehearsals I’ve pulled out the repetition exercise from the Meisner technique and the results have been astonishing. I really wanted to try it because even though it is a short form team, I still believe that long form lends itself to short form more than short form helps long form and I would like the players on the team to be able to play on all sorts of teams, not just short form.

Anyways, here’s the break down the best I can give it as to how the exercise was conducted. Like every repetition exercise, I got two players up and had them stand pretty close to each other and face one another. I would tell them to shake off everything and focus on the person in front of them for about 15-20 seconds and really observe them, what are they wearing, did they shave, what color is their shirt, what is their facial expression telling you. In other words, very simple truths about the other person. Then they would start the repetition (ex. your shirt is blue, my shirt is blue, your shirt is blue, my shirt is blue, etc.) when they felt comfortable. One thing I noticed is that almost every single time, they would start by saying something about their physical appearance (ex. again, your shirt is blue.) When they started this way it told me two things: One, they were uncomfortable. Two, they didn’t want to feel vulnerable. This makes sense because as Americans we get uncomfortable anytime someone stands face to face with us when we’re standing 2 feet away from each other and eye contact makes us feel vulnerable and intimidated.

This is why Americans fear eye contact.

The interesting part of the exercise came when the players stopped calling out what the other person was wearing or how their hair was parted and started calling out behavior. When someone would call out simple behavior like, smiling or rolling their shoulders, it instantly brought out honest behavior as a reaction, the person would start smiling more or they would stop rolling their shoulders and start looking concerned. In other words, the emotional wall had been broken down and the players became a part of the same world together and were forced to deal with the person in front of them. This is something improvisers have a hard time doing and need to refresh on every once in a while. We have the tendency to fiddle with our space objects or trying to yes-and verbally that we forget that we have to deal with and pay attention to the behaviors and emotions of the person on stage with us.

After awhile of doing the repetition exercise by the book, I decided to have the players do the repetition exercise again, but this time, when they reached a point of calling out behavior and behavior was coming out naturally for both players, I had them keep repeating and then when they were ready, start a scene. When this happened I saw some of the most honest, truthful, and funny improv I had ever seen. The players were no longer concerned about doing things right and forcing a who, what, or where into the scene but rather dealing with the other person on stage and letting the 3 w’s come out naturally.

It is tough for us as improvisers to slow down because it is the exact opposite of what we have come to think of comedy as a society, we view comedy as fast-paced and quick witted. The Meisner technique does some great things for us as improvisers. Here’s a list:

Kittens love lists and Sanford Meisner, you should too.

1. It teaches us to make eye contact. Making eye contact is scary, but is single handedly the most important thing outside of listening that will give you information about your scene partner.

2. It teaches us to listen HARD. By concentrating on behavior, we use all of our senses, when you listen hard, you notice not only the words a person has said, but how they said them.

3. It teaches us to be vulnerable on stage. Being vulnerable is crucial in improv because our job as improvisers is not to win the scene, but to support and be emotionally available for our partner. Be vulnerable, lose the scene.

4. It teaches us to slow down. Taking our time on stage is something that’s overlooked a lot in improv. Just because you don’t have the 3 w’s out in 10 seconds doesn’t mean the scene has flopped, take scenes slow and notice your partner, their body language will give you all the information you need.

5. It teaches us to be honest. The whole basis of the Meisner technique is to “live truthfully under imaginary circumstances”. This is the most important thing we can do as improvisers. Honesty breeds comedy (and they rhyme). And people hate it when you lie. Be truthful to the character, your partner, and the circumstances.

So after this long winded explanation of everything, I hope someone has stuck around to this part and it has helped you in some way. Acting and improvising are not mutually exclusive, and the more you know about each, the better you will get at both.

Gene Hackman, Premise, and Emotion.

The other night I got home from the bar and popped in the special features disk from the Royal Tenenbaums and started watching the actor interviews. While all of them are great, Gene Hackman’s in particular started to blow apart my mind. In it he talks about his approach to acting via being in the moment and how he still approaches his acting this way even when working with an incredibly stylized director such as Wes Anderson. He talks about how in some of the scenes he would have many marks to hit and full of long dolly tracks and those are things that are full of craft but the scenes were also emotionally charged. In other words he had to hit his marks physically for the aesthetic of the film but also deal with his scene partner and reach places emotionally simultaneously. First off, watch the movie and you’ll see that this is no easy feat. Second, Gene Hackman is really, really good at this.

Gene Hackman still has a good ass time on set kids.

What hit me almost immediately after Hackman said this was that this was exactly the difference between premise based improv and Yes, and emotionally based improv. This might not make sense now, but let me try to explain my position here. When you’re acting, you need both craft and emotion, you need to hit your marks (craft) and be completely in the moment that what you feel in the scene every time is decidedly based on what you’re feeling at that particular moment (emotion). In my experience in improv, premise based goes a little something like this: Let’s say you have a monologist that is telling stories from their life to inspire scenes in your set. When you’re listening intently to them you are simultaneously trying to put situations into your back pocket from their stories so that you can enter a scene and make a solid declaration at the top of the scene that will usually inform your scene partner and group of your premise for the scene right away. Some great examples of this can be seen in Upright Citizen Brigade’s Assssscat. This, as odd as it may seem, is craft. When Gene Hackman is told by Wes Anderson to hit specific marks so that it looks good on the film, that is in a round about way, premise based improv. An actor knows they have marks to hit entering a scene just like a premise based improviser knows exactly what they will say when they enter the scene.

You may say, “But Spencer, all actors know what they are going to say when they enter a scene, you idiot.” Ah, but yes-and improvisers DON’T KNOW what they’re going to say when they enter a scene. If you know what you’re going to say when you enter a scene, you are doing premise based improv. Improvisers who enter a scene not knowing what the scene will be about are doing emotionally based improv where they are staying in the moment so once they step onstage with another person they are trying to connect and deal with whatever their scene partner is giving them. These are the kind of people who enter a scene and because they don’t know why, smell the air and get informed that they are on a farm or something. They don’t come into a scene declaring who, what, and where right away, but rather slowly discover who they are, what the scene is about, and where they are. While UCB’s Assssscat is the prime example of premise based improv that I’ve seen, the DVD by Chicago performers TJ and Dave, Trust Us, This is All Made Up is the example of yes, and improv. And in turn, is the emotion Gene Hackman was talking about, the unanticipated change of a scene emotionally based on what your scene partner gives you and slowly letting those emotions and discoveries creep up on you without you knowing.

Emotions creep up on you like kittens creep up on whatever's on the outside of the frame.

I understand that I have made these two ideas of craft and emotion seem conflicting, but the truth is, to be good at what you do like Gene Hackman is, you need them both and they work together. And so do premise based and yes, and improv. These are not conflicting viewpoints of improv, they both work, and good improvisers know how to employ them both in their play. If you come out in a scene and you have a premise but so does your scene partner, but they get it out their premise first, you don’t try to smash your premise in their like a circle in a square hole, you Yes, and their premise and go with the flow of the scene that they have established. Gene Hackman doesn’t smash his own blocking into the scene when Wes Anderson has told him what blocking he wants, he allows Wes’ blocking to help the aesthetic of the film and let his emotions give the film a human element. Craft without emotion is people walking around. Emotion without craft is people running off screen and ruining the shot. They need each other to keep things fresh.