More Platitudes!

I have to be lifting this from somewhere, but it's in my head and I like it:

A scene is like a fire, you need to either make it hotter or help it spread, anything else is putting it out.

Anyone know needlepoint? I want to Etsy that shit.

I'm running out of excuses to not write comedy

I just heard on a podcast that the difference between improv and comedy writing is typing.

 Hard to argue.

A Improv Mantra

I just picked up a storytelling RPG called Fiasco, and I'm pretty psyched to try it out. It's tagline is:

A Game of Powerful Ambition and Poor Impulse Control

Powerful Ambition and poor impulse control sounds like a great way to approach playing a character. I'm keeping that one in my toolbelt.

Another round of house teams done

The latest round of house teams at the SCIT has come to an end. Sad times as always, Field Trip and Skunda were really fun, really interesting groups. I don't know if it's just me being able to notice things more but the SCIT house teams seem to be getting more unique as the rounds go on. That is to say there seems to be more group "personality" with each iteration.

This might be because we have more vets on the teams, or maybe the coaches are coaching differently now that people know Harold more... whatever it is it's great. I love teams that play in a way that is uniquely theirs. Not just the mechanisms of their set (openings, edit styles, etc. Although it's great that that has been getting more experimental) but in their "feel". 

I can't wait to see the next batch!

Hell Yeah Workshop Observations

Last week I was fortunate enough to be able to take a workshop with Ric Walker  (Second City, Improvised Shakespeare) at the SCIT. The timing was perfect for me.  I had been slogging in the flat bottom of a slump and desperately needed something to kick my ass out.

The workshop, titled Hell Yeah! (a good sign) touched on several aspects of scenework orbiting the concept of  staying focused on the now and agreeing the shit out of what's being offered.  That first clause was the Big Deal for me. I'm a recovering scene-writer, and I'm constantly letting my brain do things like "OK, this is where we need to go", or "We need to set this up so we can bring that thing up again". Ugh. Just be happy and present in the moment. Everything else will come. Trust trust trust.

  Ric had several pieces of advice that I loved (and will now possibly misinterpret) :

• Your ideas are not precious - You can't have ego about your ideas. If the scene moves beyond it (or if they just get dropped to the ground, or interrupted before they get out, or etc etc), stay on the leading edge of the scene. It's going to be ok. Don't get an idea and block everything else out until you get to fire it off. This happens all the time. Someone will get the first five words of a sentence out, get interrupted by their partner, then say the exact same sentence they were going to say. Totally ignoring what their partner just said. 
• Give graciously. Take Boldly. - Boy I love this phrase. It's going up there with "If you're not having fun, you're the asshole". It's one of those "Oh Duh" mantras. Of course I should present my offers like gifts. Of course I should not shove my ideas down people's throats. Of course I should always be enthusiastic in building on someone's offer. Of course  I shouldn't be hesitant of the And of the Yes And.
• Gratitude.  Another thing I often forget, and something that dovetails with the whole "have fun up there, you asshole" idea: Always be grateful for what's being offered in a scene. When you judge that shit, things fall apart. I know I've internally rolled my eyes at some choices. And I've seen myself on tape taking an awful split-second moment on stage doing it.  That ain't good. It's selfish. When you're playing, play. Appreciate every scene. They might not all be winners, but you have to take the mediocre with good, the terrible with the great. If you start getting in a sad or mad spiral, the show's going to tank.

Really great workshop, so much fun. Welcome to Pittsburgh, Ric!

Ooof.

I don't know which feels ickier when reviewing a performance: seeing yourself holding back too much or seeing yourself steamrolling a scene. 

(For the record, I think holding back is the worse of the two. But then again, I'm a loudmouth)

WC Fields: Playing the Game

A very simple game, played for 10 minutes. Beautiful reactions and simmering resentment from Fields.

Listen for the groan at 4:22, gorgeous.

Near. Far. Near. Far. Near. Far.

Heed the monster's words: know the difference between near and far. Near is amped-up emotion. Far is detachment. Near is love. Far is betrayal. Near is the breaking point. Far is broken beyond repair. Near is about to throw a punch. Far is packing up to leave. Near is first kiss. Far is goodbye.

Physical proximity can map very effectively to emotional distance. In scene work exploit this. If you're a couple in a scene talking about loving each other, goddamn it touch each other. If you are repulsed, literally be repulsed. You'll also find that the drives the other way: a hug or hand on the shoulder can convey an enormous amount of information.

Using the space and touch between yourself and your scene mate can enhance the emotional dynamic you're playing with; it's a boost to the tension and the release. It's like emotional MSG. 

Most of the time, I see people comfortable with the far side of things, but more reticent about near stuff. So get all comfy. I like to do scenes where the you spend the whole time dancing with your partner:  forcing the touch and closeness, and hopefully breaking down the politeness/fear/social ineptness that we let prevent us from getting near. The scene ends up being talking heads but can still be compelling as the emotional gradient is explored.

That said, don't be a creep.

Down the Hatch!

A quick run down of some of my favorite moments from one of my favorite WC Fields film: The Bank Dick.

1. It's funny to see him use the chaser in a wrong way
2. His dainty way of washing his hands is funny as a contrast to the way he slammalams the booze
3. It's a nod to the idea of a finger bowl, used for rinsing one's hands between courses during high-class meals
4. Mr. Sousè is not, despite his best efforts, high class
5. That is a bad-ass kick at the end. (He was a pretty amazing clown)

Layers! 


(Go watch all of it, it's amazing top to bottom. From threatening a child with a planter to a bit part for Shemp)

Your Show of Shows!

While writing that last post I was watching some of the old clips from Sid Caeser's Your Show of Shows, a program that had Carl Reiner, Neil Simon,Woody Allen (Turns out he just worked on specials with Sid, not on YSoS) and Mel Brooks as writers. And I found this sketch that I forgot I loved.

Imogene Coca is a goddamn hero.

I'm sure Chicks With Schticks would have something to say about the gender stuff in there.

Mel Brooks, ZAZ!, and staying grounded

I just got the DVD of Police Squad!, a phenomenal (although extremely short-lived) series that was the progenitor of the Naked Gun movies. It was done by the team of Jim Abrahams, and David and Jerry Zucker. These are the people that brought you Airplane!, Top Secret!, Hot Shots! and a bunch of zaniest, most joked-packed movies since Mel Brooks. And while both Zucker Abrahams Zucker  (ZAZ!) collective and Mel Brooks jammed their films with sight-gags, puns, and broad physical bits, the tone of their movies were very different. 


Mel Brooks came from the vaudeville-y Borscht Belt tradition. The ZAZ guys were Baby-Boomer smart asses. Brooks made sure everyone knew the joke, and everything was sold extremely hard. He was not afraid of directly addressing the audience and playing with meta-games (like the entirety of the ending of Blazing Saddles). His actors would mug, grimace and use a comedic cadence during dialoge.  Even when playing it straight, Brooks had things done in a "funny" way. Listen to the "Abbey Normal" talk in this clip from Young Frankenstein. It has the same rhythm and burn of an Abbott and Costello bit.

Or, to put it into sharp relief, Rick Moranis's outsized reactions in the Who's On First homage in Spaceballs:

 Though this feels weird to say, ZAZ played it much cooler. They would let jokes fly by, and it was up the audience to catch them all. A favorite of their go-to gags was playing punny name games (it pops up in a bunch of their works). One of the most complex is from the first episode of Police Squad. Like the above clip, it's almost exactly Who's On First but they never tip their hands.

ZAZ mined a lot of funny from making sure that no matter how insane the world they created was, no matter how absurd the characters were, the people in it never ever let on. This was what gave Leslie Nielsen his second career. He was phenomenal of underselling every line, making jokes not sound like jokes and (for me at least) making it even funnier.


Like:

Or:

As this might pertain to improv, well, don't ever be jokey like either Brooks or ZAZ. But if you end up in a ridiculous world, play it more like ZAZ than Brooks.  Being arch and winky can work in scripted comedy because you can tightly control how much you give to your audience.


When you go jokey or slip into comedic patter you subvert the reality of the scene. Once the audience sniffs out that you're "being funny" or setting up a joke, you've just given your scene an expiration date. Now you have to get to the expected punchline and get out. You have mortally wounded your ability to explore. 


When you're improvising act as best as you can. The more grounding and gravatas you bring, the better.

An Unfortunate Name For A Blog

I've been vacillating between having a blog and not bothering for about a year now. I was making a lot of excuses not to do it. Most often the excuse that would have me backing out was  "Who cares what you have to say about improv?" with a "You'll never keep up with it" chaser. And to that, honestly, "A few locals" and "Probably won't". But I'm not going to let that stop me now.

I am no longer approaching this as an improv pulpit where I need to have smart, incisive sermons that will change the way the games are played. I will not use this as a skeleton for my eventual treatise on performing that will be next 60-page-with-pictures-18-dollar improv bookshelf dust collector.  This will not be the mustard seed that grows the tree that topples mighty IRC wiki.

This will be a largely insufferable collection of reposts, navel-gazing self-criticisms, half-baked comedy-philosophy crumbs, and grossly unqualified perspectives on doing improv.


I will be contradictory here, I will be confusing here, I will be unfocused here and probably wrong wrong wrong.

But that's ok. This is going to be my new unpleasant tool.  On the advice from the wonderful Chris Grace I dove into the first unpleasant tool for improving my work: watching video. And after the horrible, horrible acclimation period (Nice pants, fatty), it became a very important part of my process. I'm hoping this thing pays off similar dividends. 

So, I'll try to keep things going up here, hopefully once a week. Start building this muscle up and see what happens. I want to do it semi-publicly, so as to have some accountability (my life is full of 3 page deep journals).

Plus today's my birthday, and that seems like as good a time as any to give it a shot.