On Leaving And Being Maaaaaaaaaaaaad

In a class recently the question came up of if it was ever OK to just leave a scene, to just walk on off.

My gut reaction and answer was "Yes, if you need to leave, leave. If your character wouldn't stay, go. Don't be dishonest about that.".

But then I thought: how often do you want to leave because your character wants to leave and how often do you want to leave because you're having a bad time up there?  Everyone has and will experience a scene where it feels like you're playing against a brick wall. That stuff just happens. You will be that wall someday. It's fine because there will always be more scenes. Learn from it and keep playing.

 But that said, when there's no traction, or no agreement, or there's deep confusion, or reality got fucked up, or whatever, it is an awful feeling. A cocktail of confusion, indignation, frustration , fear and embarrassment    It's easy to let the annoyance or frustration bleed into the performance. And that's dangerous territory. It's as heady as you can get.

At the risk of giving advice to go even more in head... if you are not having fun in a scene, you need to be vigilant about making sure that you're not letting your bad feelings affect your work. Don't bail on scene as a "Fuck You". That's awful stuff.  Even when you're pissed off, wait. especially when you're pissed off,  treat everything you're getting as a wonderful gift. Go into hyper-YES mode. Just getting mad and bailing will sink the scene and lead to that souring of chemistry that can leave a stink over a whole set.

Your answer to anger has got to be love.

But if your character has no reason to stay, leave. If there wasn't any relationship or dynamic between the players keeping them there well... what was the scene in the first place?

Improv Bestiary: The Empty Baker

The Empty Baker is an initiation pattern that I do all the goddamn time.

Player A's Brain

Uh-oh! Time to initiate a scene!

I don't have any ideas but I need to just go right?

Well fuck, I'm going then.

(Moves waaaaay downstage, to the edge, probably out of light, and begins: Making a cake, mixing bowl in hand / working on a flat tire with a jack / stirring and pouring a drink / typing furiously on a computer, occasionally wiggling a mouse )

Surely this elaborate object work will inform my "deal"!

Player A's Mouth

...

(7 seconds pass, which is forever when mixing batter, then Player B pops out from back line)

Player B

Uh, Is that cake done/ tired changed/ drink ready /report finished?

The Empty Baker makes a strong initial move, and picks and commits to an activity. That's great! 

What The Baker also does is put themselves in a position where all they can do / see / focus on is their activity.  Running and sticking at the edge of the stage, or flying to a corner, and immediately being heads down in an activity tells your team one thing: what your back looks like when you change a tire. 

I don't know why other people do it but I can say why I do The Empty Baker. It was comforting. 

When I had no idea in my head I knew I could just pick an activity and do it really really hard. Then hopefully something would come from that. That uncertainty, or  lack of trust in myself, is also why I always went really far downstage. All I had was a motion, so fuck it, I'm going to shove it in the audience's face. Shutting out my teammates from getting a good handle on what the hell I was really doing and why.

That "why" is what really counts. Without some idea of why someone is invested in doing something, or how the activity is affecting them you're practically begging your teammates to just ask about the activity. And that can lead to a scene about getting something done, which is boring. 

Without seeing or presenting your activity with some other kind of dimension (some emotion, quirk, degree of enthusiasm), it's a shallow offer. And these extra dimensions are all  most efficiently communicated through the faceparts. 

So to improve on The Empty Baker tendencies:

Be courteous with your blocking! Make sure the audience and your team can understand the what  and why of your activity.

Remember that the action is not your only deal, you're doing something for a reason and you're feeling something while you do it. Know it and show it. Make that emotional choice and demonstrate it! Decide what you want and channel it through your activity.  Broadcast assertively! Grumble at the tire! Laugh at the drinks! Cry in that cake!

The only reason we're seeing you do that activity is because it is informative of your character. We have no interest in seeing an invisible oil change.

h/t to the wonderful  Emily Askin who got me thinking about this one

Writing on the Floor Podcast

This week, Zach Simons of the Writing on the Floor podcast was gracious enough to have me on. We talk comedy, the emerging Pittsburgh scene and why Dane Cook got a bad rap (kinda)

Go subscribe to the podcast and take a listen!

Improv Bestiary: The Mirror

The Mirror is a well-meaning but scared improviser. Maybe they're new, maybe they're uncomfortable with their partner,...maybe they've been told they "write too much" by a teacher. The mirror deals with this by going 110% on the Yes and 0% on the And.

Player A

I'm upset with you.

Player B

Yes! You're positively furious! Your knuckles are white!

Player A

You said you were done drinking and I find this?

Player B

That's a bottle! You're angry because you found that bottle I hid!

Player A

You were sober for two years!

Player B

I was sober for two years!

Like its cousin The Waterfall, The Mirror is trying to be supportive but is not taking care themselves. Without giving back, the weight of the scene gets stuck on the back of your partner. And while the The Waterfall comes from enthusiasm, The Mirror comes from fear. They often aren't confident in their choices, or their character so it's easy to just parrot the information that's already out there. It even kind of "sounds right". But it is really hard to play with.

To work on this tendency try exercises they get you out of judging yourself: lights down monologues, aggressive line switching, monologue rants (It's Tuesday!). Or drill the And of Yes And in circles or back and forth. Instilling confidence that they can just go with what comes out of their mouth without thinking about it and that that'll be supported should help break this pattern. 

Exercise: Lights Down Monologues

This is fun exercise I use a lot in my level ones. It works on storytelling, listening and support.

Have a back line and choose a player to start a true to life monologue. During the monologue start dimming the stage lights: if you get to complete blackness the monologue is over no matter where it is.

The only way to get the lights to reset is to tag out the monologist and continue the story from where they left off. As the monologue goes on the dimming becomes more aggressive until finally it either reaches total black from inaction or hits a resolution and you black it out.

Like conducted monologue, it works on active listening and being prepared, it additionally introduces the idea of action as support. Plus it gets frantic and fun and the stories get crazy, so it's a nice bonding game.

Play it multiple times... since it's all editing from the line more cautious or shy players might not try as much, gentle encouragement usually does the trick, especially after a couple runs when they see that the story can get nutso and that's ok.

If you don't have dimming lights, I've done this by standing next to speaker and lowering my hand from way up high and if it touches the ground it's over. It's a good workout that way too. Oof.

James's Observation

Paraphrased from my friend, and man who knows a thing or two about performing, James Rushin:

 Tentativeness and apathy are the two things an audience will not forgive


So feel something, jerk. And feel it all the way to your shoes.

Improv Bestiary: The Lobotomist

Grampa! Did you forget to take your pills?

You're crazy! How did you get out of the hospital?

You're just drunk, you don't mean any of that!

Maaaan we're so high! I think those were special brownies!

This is one weird dream....

Is there a time for these kind of things in scenes? Sure. Sometimes a person is acting unhinged and it needs to be called out. But I often see this when one improviser is panicking. And they out-of-nowhere endow their partner with unreliability: a really difficult, stakes-lowering attribute. Watch as the scene suddenly becomes a game of how crazy/demented/drunk/high the person can get, and watch how everything before is pretty much thrown out.

 And I know the excuses.  Reality got denied! They said something that's impossible to justify! They weren't listening to what I just said and it got weird! 

Or

What I wanted the scene to be wasn't happening! 

I've definitely seen this move done with a real annoyance from the player, not the character, and that's the real trouble.  I know that feeling when a scene's not going the way you think it should, it can be really frustrating, and the temptation to blow it up can be strong. But doing it can erase all that's come before, and lead to a scene that's just a game of heightening a quirk. You've basically cut out everything that was interesting in one quick jab.

If you're the one made mentally unstable,stay grounded in what's been established.  Going to, heh, crazytown and putting the needle to 11 can be fun but you've lit the fuse on the scene. Be crazy, drunk, whatever, but keep the same investment you had before you were labeled that way. As always, play it real. A crazy but human and  relatable character can be terribly interesting.


PS
And please, for me, if you get called high, do not immediately grab a bong out of nowhere.