Be Foolish Unless You Have To Be Real
emotional reality is the boundary
If someone says to you in an improv scene “Would you rather have this pile of money or this pile of moldy cheese?” Let’s say the rational answer is “pile of money.” The foolish answer is “pile of moldy cheese.”
Knowing which choice is good for the scene — that’s being a good improviser.
You can —- and I would say probably should — pick the moldy cheese if there’s some stupid way you can make it emotionally relatable.
But if there is no real way to make that a relatable choice, then you pick the money.
Be “Stupid” Until You Can’t
Last night I did a show with Ian where we were two grocery store employees. I worked hard, Ian was lazy. Ian was open about how he did not intend to work. He criticized my character when I insisted we do equal work, calling me foolish and insensitive. My character tried to make reasonable compromises —- what if Ian did just 10% of his work to help —- and Ian repeatedly refused to do his part.
Then, the scene evolved and it got revealed that my character had a sick wife. I got a phone call that she’d had a doctor’s visit and had some bad news: her illness had taken a turn for the worse.
Suddenly, Ian’s (his character) whole demeanor changed. He felt terrible. He apologized. He insisted I go home and that he would work for both us to cover. He admitted he was lazy but he said this was a special case and I needed to take care of my wife.
He gave up the comedic game, because it was no longer emotionally possible for him to be the same kind of fool.
Being a fool is one of the main ways to make an improv scene funny. But emotional reality is like the boundaries of the court. You be as foolish as you can without stepping “out of bounds.”
My character thanked him, and left. We cut to two hours later. Ian had done no work. Instead he had concocted a way to lie to our boss, which to him was the same as having done the work.
To apply the metaphor: Ian picked the moldy cheese (being openly lazy) until my wife was sick, then he picked the money (doing his fair share). And then retroactively changed it so he picked the moldy cheese (not doing any work) anyway.
Always staying within emotional bounds.
Don’t Be Too Smart
There are three ingredients in a successful improv scene:
agreement - you are adapting to each other’s choices
reality - we are acting like emotionally real human beings
absurdity - there is something absurd (or whimsical or silly)
You want foolish things (absurdity) that we pick for ourselves and each other (agreement), all while being mindful not to get too crazy (reality).
Easy! Improv is easy.
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