For those of you who haven't heard, I've moved back to Nashville after doing some improv comedy training in Chicago. My next big project: open a full-time improv comedy theater and training center.
What do I need most? People. People like you.
Who, me?
Yes, you. Along with the person sitting next to you.
I'm no comedian... I'm a [butcher/baker/candlestick maker].
Not a problem. Some of the funniest people I've ever performed with have been teachers, lawyers, accountants, computer techs, and a whole lot of other professions. Heck, I was a cop for nine years myself.
I've never had any training, though.
Improv experience is nice, but it's not required. Nor is experience a guarantee that you'll become part of the ensemble. I'm looking for a group of people that are pleasant to work with, who are willing to go through a training session for a few months.
How much will all this improv comedy training cost me?
If you audition and make it into the ensemble, it's free!
When and where are the auditions?
It's still to be determined. Let me know if you're interested, though. I'll be starting a mailing list.
I've never done an improv comedy audition before. It sounds scary.
I plan to do a pre-audition workshop the week before auditions. It'll give you a little taste of what to expect, as well as what we're looking for. Again, let me know if you're interested.
How long will the training take?
I'm going to try to condense a whole bunch of training into three months. Then we'll form teams within the ensemble and have some time to rehearse as teams. Of course, the availability of a permanent theater space might cause this timeline to change. Figure on once a week training sessions of 2 hours each.
What if I start the training and realize that improv is not for me?
That's perfectly understandable. No hard feelings.
You didn't answer my question here.
Call me, text me, email me, or send me a Facebook message. I'm not hard to find, and always willing to answer your question as best I can.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Bacon is for lovers
So, a friend of mine posted something bacon-related on his Facebook status update (I knew that my love for bacon had gone too far when I was choking on a piece of it earlier today and thought, "this would be an awesome way to go."), and I decided it would be fun to reply with a bacon-related picture. Where does anyone go for a good bacon picture? Why, Google Images, of course.
If you have never done a Google Images search for bacon, do it now. I'll wait.
Okay, welcome back. Let's discuss my favorite images, shall we?
That's what I get for setting my "SafeSearch" to Moderate. Pictures of girls wearing nothing but uncooked pork products. Obviously, this is not a wardrobe choice that would make it into a Victoria's Secret catalogue. Of course, I never let reality stop the train of thought that ran through my head after seeing this.
Women would need to use thick-cut bacon, obviously. Anything less wouldn't provide the proper support. Let's say you were able to cover yourself using one pound of bacon. A complete brassiere would cost you about $2.99 -- maybe less on double coupon Wednesdays, or if you bought the store brand. Of course, you'd have to refrigerate the bra if you wanted to re-use it another day. Still, you figure the amount of times you can re-use it is limited. Still probably more economical to buy cotton.
The real function, of course, is to seduce bacon-loving men. Although a dab of bacon grease behind the ears might excite the pheromones just as effectively, let's say you went the baconssiere method. Sure, this is something that even the most awkward teenage boy would know how to unclasp. Technically, I guess it falls into the category of "edible undergarments." Really, though... raw bacon? I'm not sure how passionate I'd feel if I just gummed my way through a pound of raw bacon. Putting on pre-cooked bacon would be difficult. You'd either have good, crispy bacon that snaps into pieces as you try to put it on, or sad, soggy bacon (the default Waffle House style) that is almost as unappetizing as raw bacon, or you'd have to put it on while it was still sizzling and let it conform to your shape. Or you could lay down on a hot plate, I suppose. Though the agonizing screams would probably be a mood-killer.
So ladies, if you're trying to seduce me with bacon, just keep it simple. Bacon-wrapped turducken for dinner, bacon apple pie for dessert, and a bacon martini afterwards. Now THAT'S how you get a man!
If you have never done a Google Images search for bacon, do it now. I'll wait.
Okay, welcome back. Let's discuss my favorite images, shall we?
- Massive piles of bacon
- Massive bacon sandwiches
- A briefcase made out of bacon
- Bacon strips adhesive bandages (I actually have a box of these)
- Gummy bacon
- Bacon-flavored toothpicks
- Bacon floss
- The bacon roll-up
- Bacon doughnuts (sure makes the "Police Officer Hat Trick" easier)
- Diet Coke with Bacon (my personal favorite)
- Bacon-wrapped hot dogs
- Bacon martini
- Bacon-wrapped turkey
- A bacon lunch box
- Apple bacon pie
- Bacon chocolate chip cookies
- Bacon tuxedos
- Kevin Bacon (how did he get in there?)
- Bacon ice cream
- Donut bacon cheeseburger
- Bacon turducken
- A bacon assault rifle
- Bacon vodka
That's what I get for setting my "SafeSearch" to Moderate. Pictures of girls wearing nothing but uncooked pork products. Obviously, this is not a wardrobe choice that would make it into a Victoria's Secret catalogue. Of course, I never let reality stop the train of thought that ran through my head after seeing this.
Women would need to use thick-cut bacon, obviously. Anything less wouldn't provide the proper support. Let's say you were able to cover yourself using one pound of bacon. A complete brassiere would cost you about $2.99 -- maybe less on double coupon Wednesdays, or if you bought the store brand. Of course, you'd have to refrigerate the bra if you wanted to re-use it another day. Still, you figure the amount of times you can re-use it is limited. Still probably more economical to buy cotton.
The real function, of course, is to seduce bacon-loving men. Although a dab of bacon grease behind the ears might excite the pheromones just as effectively, let's say you went the baconssiere method. Sure, this is something that even the most awkward teenage boy would know how to unclasp. Technically, I guess it falls into the category of "edible undergarments." Really, though... raw bacon? I'm not sure how passionate I'd feel if I just gummed my way through a pound of raw bacon. Putting on pre-cooked bacon would be difficult. You'd either have good, crispy bacon that snaps into pieces as you try to put it on, or sad, soggy bacon (the default Waffle House style) that is almost as unappetizing as raw bacon, or you'd have to put it on while it was still sizzling and let it conform to your shape. Or you could lay down on a hot plate, I suppose. Though the agonizing screams would probably be a mood-killer.
So ladies, if you're trying to seduce me with bacon, just keep it simple. Bacon-wrapped turducken for dinner, bacon apple pie for dessert, and a bacon martini afterwards. Now THAT'S how you get a man!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Authentic Mexican Egg Fu Yung
So I started getting hungry on the way home from improv class today (3 p.m.). I saw Chan's restaurant on Clark Street and thought, "Hmmm... some General Tso's Chicken would hit the spot!" Unfortunately, it wasn't open at 3 p.m. So I kept walking. I saw Hofbrau and thought, "Maybe they have weinerschnitzel. That would hit the spot!" Unfortunately, they're closed on Tuesdays all day. So I kept walking. I saw a neon sign in a window that advertised Chicken Teriyaki. Plus, they were open! I entered.
Apparently, the restaurant is actually called "Hamburger King." Not a place you'd go for chicken teriyaki, but what the heck. Looked like a Steak & Shake on the inside. I sat down and perused the menu (everything from bacon & eggs to sweet & sour chicken). I decided on Egg Fu Yung and an egg roll on the side.
While I was waiting for my food, I heard my waitress talking to another customer in Spanish. It was loud enough for me to hear, but I guess I look like a guy who doesn't understand a word of Spanish. Although I didn't get the entire context of the phrase, I clearly heard the waitress say:
"...cucarachas en la pared."
After pondering this for a while, I realized that there is no good context to ever hear that phrase uttered in a restaurant. (FYI... it means "cockroaches on the floor.") My egg fu yung arrived shortly afterwards (covered in brown gravy for some reason). Believe me, I cut my food into small bites before eating any of it. It was actually kinda tasty. My appetite doesn't get spoiled nearly as easily as it used to.
So if you want some Chinese food, made by Mexicans (?), and slathered in hamburger gravy, and possibly including some extra passengers, join me on my next exciting dining experience.
Apparently, the restaurant is actually called "Hamburger King." Not a place you'd go for chicken teriyaki, but what the heck. Looked like a Steak & Shake on the inside. I sat down and perused the menu (everything from bacon & eggs to sweet & sour chicken). I decided on Egg Fu Yung and an egg roll on the side.
While I was waiting for my food, I heard my waitress talking to another customer in Spanish. It was loud enough for me to hear, but I guess I look like a guy who doesn't understand a word of Spanish. Although I didn't get the entire context of the phrase, I clearly heard the waitress say:
"...cucarachas en la pared."
After pondering this for a while, I realized that there is no good context to ever hear that phrase uttered in a restaurant. (FYI... it means "cockroaches on the floor.") My egg fu yung arrived shortly afterwards (covered in brown gravy for some reason). Believe me, I cut my food into small bites before eating any of it. It was actually kinda tasty. My appetite doesn't get spoiled nearly as easily as it used to.
So if you want some Chinese food, made by Mexicans (?), and slathered in hamburger gravy, and possibly including some extra passengers, join me on my next exciting dining experience.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A Pirate Marriage Proposal
Ahh... the conclusions we make.
Never really did a lot of "people watching." Never sat in the middle of a mall with a few friends and made guesses about what a person does for a living, or made a bunch of assumptions based on a first impression. Good date night, I suppose.
Today, however, I unintentionally did some people watching on the way home from class. I was walking along Addison Street and looked across the street to see a guy down on one knee, boombox to the left of him, two people standing in front talking to him, and another guy further off to the side with a camcorder on a tripod. Oh, by the way... the guy on one knee was dressed like a pirate.
Yep, buccaneer shirt and one of those black tri-corner hat deals. Not sure why there's a pirate in Wrigleyville in March (the Pittsburgh Pirates aren't playing at Wrigley Field until May 14th). I suppose the fact that there was a camera guy could mean they're filming "Pirates of the Caribbean 4: The Pirates Take Cook County" or something. But that's not the conclusion I drew. No.
This guy was practicing for a marriage proposal. He was going to turn on the boombox to lure out his lover, get down on one knee, propose, and have the camera guy capture the moment. All while dressed like Long John Silver.
I'm not exactly sure what a pirate says to a woman he wants to marry. Not really known for commitment, that sort. Mostly just find a port, go to an alehouse, spend your plundered doubloons on tankards of mead and turkey legs, find a lusty wench or barmaid, spend a night of drunken revelry with them, and awaken to find yourself in a horse trough being nuzzled by some nag. That's a pirate's idea of a committed relationship. You don't typically think of a pirate getting on one knee and saying, "Will ye do me the honor of being me wife?"
So ladies, remember... if a pirate proposes to you, say no. Sure, he'll promise you riches (his share of the booty), but his true love will always be the sea. He'll sail home every two years or so, give you a scraggly-beard kiss, be surprised at the new Pirate Junior additions to the family since he last saw you, then sail away again in search of adventure. Don't settle for a pirate. Give your love to a ninja. You might not see him much, either... but he's always around.
Never really did a lot of "people watching." Never sat in the middle of a mall with a few friends and made guesses about what a person does for a living, or made a bunch of assumptions based on a first impression. Good date night, I suppose.
Today, however, I unintentionally did some people watching on the way home from class. I was walking along Addison Street and looked across the street to see a guy down on one knee, boombox to the left of him, two people standing in front talking to him, and another guy further off to the side with a camcorder on a tripod. Oh, by the way... the guy on one knee was dressed like a pirate.
Yep, buccaneer shirt and one of those black tri-corner hat deals. Not sure why there's a pirate in Wrigleyville in March (the Pittsburgh Pirates aren't playing at Wrigley Field until May 14th). I suppose the fact that there was a camera guy could mean they're filming "Pirates of the Caribbean 4: The Pirates Take Cook County" or something. But that's not the conclusion I drew. No.
This guy was practicing for a marriage proposal. He was going to turn on the boombox to lure out his lover, get down on one knee, propose, and have the camera guy capture the moment. All while dressed like Long John Silver.
I'm not exactly sure what a pirate says to a woman he wants to marry. Not really known for commitment, that sort. Mostly just find a port, go to an alehouse, spend your plundered doubloons on tankards of mead and turkey legs, find a lusty wench or barmaid, spend a night of drunken revelry with them, and awaken to find yourself in a horse trough being nuzzled by some nag. That's a pirate's idea of a committed relationship. You don't typically think of a pirate getting on one knee and saying, "Will ye do me the honor of being me wife?"
So ladies, remember... if a pirate proposes to you, say no. Sure, he'll promise you riches (his share of the booty), but his true love will always be the sea. He'll sail home every two years or so, give you a scraggly-beard kiss, be surprised at the new Pirate Junior additions to the family since he last saw you, then sail away again in search of adventure. Don't settle for a pirate. Give your love to a ninja. You might not see him much, either... but he's always around.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Clues for the Facebook Clueless
Okay, so you're new to Facebook. We understand. What? You've been on Facebook since 2007? And you did THAT? This blog is for you, the Facebook Clueless.
- Target, Wal-Mart, Best Buy, and any other company you see is not, I repeat **NOT** going to give you a $1,000 gift card for being one of the first 20,000 people to join a fan page. Seriously, think about it. That's TWENTY MILLION DOLLARS they'd be giving away to anyone with the handful of brain cells necessary to click "Become a Fan." Not going to happen. Sorry.
- There are no magical pages, groups, or applications out there that let you "See Who is Browsing Your Profile." They are all fake. Every single one of them.
- Any fan page that requires you to "send this invite to twenty of your friends" is getting you to do their spam work for them.
- Any page that has 50,000 fans and zero posts on the wall -- FAKE. Run away. Seriously -- if you were giving away Best Buy gift certificates, wouldn't you want people posting on your wall about how awesome you are? They disable the wall because no one ever got squat from them.
- If you have to "copy-paste this Javascript into your browser window to complete the application process" -- red flag. If you actually DO that, maybe you deserve to have your computer infested with viruses. Duh.
- Facebook is not going to "start charging $14.95/month on [insert date here]." That kind of thing has been around since the dawn of the Internet. It's as old as the "Nigerian Prince" email. AIM, Yahoo! Mail, MySpace, Facebook... all of them have had people forwarding angry messages about how they're going to leave if they start charging. None of them have been true. Even if they were about to start charging, is joining a fan page or group really going to change the minds of the people in charge?
- Snopes is your friend. Bookmark it. Heck, memorize the link (it's not that long). Always use it before you post something about the latest Amber Alert, Bill Cosby political views, or story about "Obama eats babies." Do some fact-checking, people.
- Here's one that was actually clever. A fan page created some realistic looking images of people commenting "Wow! I can't believe this worked!" for some free prize giveaway. There were icons, people's names, and the works. Only problems? It wasn't on the "Wall" section where people would actually post messages. Oh, and none of the people had last names displayed. Oh, and none of the links (including the people's names) were clickable -- the whole thing was a JPG that someone had Photoshopped to look like testimonials. When you clicked on the actual Wall, there were no posts.
- Just because we went to the same high school, that doesn't make us friends. Did we even have any classes together?
- Drunk FB status updating is the new drunk texting or drunk dialing. Except that instead of just an ex-girlfriend seeing/hearing it, 500 friends and family members see how stupid you are.
- You don't HAVE to post every achievement in FarmVille or Mafia Wars. It's optional.
- If I don't live in your city, I'm probably not going to come to your concert.
- People with bad spelling, punctuation, and/or grammar deserve to be mocked with sarcastic comments. This means you.
- Not everyone shares your ultra-liberal or ultra-conservative viewpoint. It's okay to have such a viewpoint, of course. Just don't couple it with a "I can't believe anyone else out there doesn't share the same point of view as me. Clearly, you're an idiot if you believe something else!" attitude.
- If you post a picture of your child, favorite cartoon character or anything other than your face, don't tell me who you are, we have no friends in common, and I haven't called you by name in the last 48 hours, don't be surprised when I ignore your friend request.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
I want to know stuff.
Here's an idea for any future improv theater company I take part in running. Knowing stuff.
It's great when an improviser gets a suggestion of a profession such as "doctor" and can rattle off actual medical terms and use them fairly accurately. Or the suggestion "Shakespeare" and be able to use "thee," "thou," "thy," and "thine" correctly. If you get suggestions like "spot welding" or "horseback riding," chances are that the person giving the suggestion already has some knowledge about the subject.
Granted, there will always be some subjects that an improviser knows absolutely nothing about. I know I had never heard the term "Octomom" before it was suggested to me in a show (I Googled it when I got home). I think we did something about an octopus during the scene.
Sure, it can be fun when an audience realizes "this improviser has no idea who [insert celebrity name] is." But it can be much more satisfying for an improviser who can play and have fun in a made-up world where you're firmly grounded with a few key phrases, terms, and concepts for the suggestion that's given. The audience member who gave the suggestion (and probably knew something about the subject) will be amazed that you know so much.
So here's my suggestion. Have various members of the cast each take a week where they will teach the rest of the cast something they know well. For example, I would teach classes on various things I learned in my days as a police officer -- how to do a traffic stop, how to give the field sobriety tasks, how to operate/fire a handgun, how to slim jim open a car door, how to search through a house, how to march/run in formation, etc. I'd love to have every cast member take what they know best and teach everyone something new every week. Not only would it be fun, but it would be a fun group bonding experience for the cast.
So, yeah... know-it-all training in Nashville. Coming in 2011.
It's great when an improviser gets a suggestion of a profession such as "doctor" and can rattle off actual medical terms and use them fairly accurately. Or the suggestion "Shakespeare" and be able to use "thee," "thou," "thy," and "thine" correctly. If you get suggestions like "spot welding" or "horseback riding," chances are that the person giving the suggestion already has some knowledge about the subject.
Granted, there will always be some subjects that an improviser knows absolutely nothing about. I know I had never heard the term "Octomom" before it was suggested to me in a show (I Googled it when I got home). I think we did something about an octopus during the scene.
Sure, it can be fun when an audience realizes "this improviser has no idea who [insert celebrity name] is." But it can be much more satisfying for an improviser who can play and have fun in a made-up world where you're firmly grounded with a few key phrases, terms, and concepts for the suggestion that's given. The audience member who gave the suggestion (and probably knew something about the subject) will be amazed that you know so much.
So here's my suggestion. Have various members of the cast each take a week where they will teach the rest of the cast something they know well. For example, I would teach classes on various things I learned in my days as a police officer -- how to do a traffic stop, how to give the field sobriety tasks, how to operate/fire a handgun, how to slim jim open a car door, how to search through a house, how to march/run in formation, etc. I'd love to have every cast member take what they know best and teach everyone something new every week. Not only would it be fun, but it would be a fun group bonding experience for the cast.
So, yeah... know-it-all training in Nashville. Coming in 2011.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
My horrible supressed memory has returned to me.
So my roommate (John) went out and bought a bunch of snacks for movie night tonight (the 1989 "Batman"). Microwave popcorn, soda, Reese's Pieces, Nerds, and... Mike & Ikes.
Flash back with me to 1993. Freshman year of high school. Honors Geometry class. My teacher decides to put our math skills to the test. She has a huge jar of Mike & Ike candy on her desk. Our job is to try to figure out how many Mike & Ike candies are in that jar, using our calculate-the-volume-of-object formulae. We were each given one of her "spare" Mike & Ike candies to do our measurements of the candy's volume. We could each go up to the jar and measure it from the outside, making adjustments for the thickness and curvature of the glass. Then, of course, we had to account for the amount of air that was in the jar.
Long story short, I made a guess of 1,604. The actual total was 1,632. I won.
One guy calculated that there were 2,448 in the jar, but he forgot to account for the air between the candies. Turns out that there's a theorem out there that if you randomly drop objects into a container, it'll occupy 2/3 of the total volume (1/3 will be air). If he had multiplied his guess by 2/3, he would have been exactly right.
The first day of victory was awesome. I ate a few handfuls, and shared them with my classmates. Still plenty left. I'd munch a few here and there at home. Still plenty left. I took them with me to other nerd school functions (math club, Knowledge Masters). A few handfuls got eaten. Still plenty left. I took them to youth group. Still plenty left. Finally, I gave up on being able to finish the jar of Mike & Ikes. There was well over half the jar remaining when I dumped it in the trash, vowing never again to eat Mike & Ikes again. The jar, which still had that sickly sweet odor, was used to store loose change.
16 years went by...
Now I am confronted with the horrifying reunion ahead of me this evening. I surely will not open that package of candy. Someone else will. They might even pass it around or offer it to me directly. My screams will be heard throughout Cook County. Probably sometime between 7-9 p.m. Listen for it.
Flash back with me to 1993. Freshman year of high school. Honors Geometry class. My teacher decides to put our math skills to the test. She has a huge jar of Mike & Ike candy on her desk. Our job is to try to figure out how many Mike & Ike candies are in that jar, using our calculate-the-volume-of-object formulae. We were each given one of her "spare" Mike & Ike candies to do our measurements of the candy's volume. We could each go up to the jar and measure it from the outside, making adjustments for the thickness and curvature of the glass. Then, of course, we had to account for the amount of air that was in the jar.
Long story short, I made a guess of 1,604. The actual total was 1,632. I won.
One guy calculated that there were 2,448 in the jar, but he forgot to account for the air between the candies. Turns out that there's a theorem out there that if you randomly drop objects into a container, it'll occupy 2/3 of the total volume (1/3 will be air). If he had multiplied his guess by 2/3, he would have been exactly right.
The first day of victory was awesome. I ate a few handfuls, and shared them with my classmates. Still plenty left. I'd munch a few here and there at home. Still plenty left. I took them with me to other nerd school functions (math club, Knowledge Masters). A few handfuls got eaten. Still plenty left. I took them to youth group. Still plenty left. Finally, I gave up on being able to finish the jar of Mike & Ikes. There was well over half the jar remaining when I dumped it in the trash, vowing never again to eat Mike & Ikes again. The jar, which still had that sickly sweet odor, was used to store loose change.
16 years went by...
Now I am confronted with the horrifying reunion ahead of me this evening. I surely will not open that package of candy. Someone else will. They might even pass it around or offer it to me directly. My screams will be heard throughout Cook County. Probably sometime between 7-9 p.m. Listen for it.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Worst improv show in Chicago?
I was in a good mood most of the day on Saturday. I had a great time at the Improvised Shakespeare workshop, saw a great show at ComedySportz at 6:00, and enjoyed Whirled News Tonight at iO at 8:00. Some friends of mine were opening at the 10:00 show at The Playground, so I went to go see them. A good way to round out the day. I had even managed to avoid any unpleasant contact with the mob of pseudo-Irish drunks in Wrigleyville on pre-St. Patrick's Day weekend. What could possibly ruin my night?
Boner Petite.
Yeah, I know. You shouldn't expect much from an improv group named "Boner Petite." In my defense, I had no idea who the headliner group was that night. Plus, I thought I heard "Bon Appetit" when they first introduced themselves. It made more sense when I heard it correctly later.
A few minutes after 10:00 -- the lights come up. Three girls rush the stage decked out in green. I'm watching them enter from stage right as I get pelted in the temple with a bag of popcorn, thrown by the girl on stage left. It made a pretty solid thud on my head, unusual for a bag of popcorn. The girl in stage center then takes a bottle of bubble solution and a wand and starts blowing bubbles into the audience. She spills some of the bubble solution on my knee. One of the girls, acting as emcee, introduces herself by grabbing her crotch and asking the guys in the audience, "Is my **** bigger than yours? Hell, yeah!"
After the worst start to an improv show I've ever endured, the guy sitting next to me hands me the bag of popcorn that had ricocheted off my forehead. He felt like I earned it. I decide to eat it during the opening acts. No butter, no salt, and stone cold. Meh. I figure out later what made the thud against the side of my forehead. A Hershey miniature was embedded inside the bag of popcorn. Guess that made it easier to throw. Kinda like putting a rock inside a snowball.
The first two acts were good, but I was in such a foul mood by that point, that I wasn't really enjoying it like I would have. Then Boner Petite took the stage for their set. They started off by bringing a "random" girl from the audience up on stage and giving her gifts of chocolate, marshmallow Peeps, and a Dixie cup of wine (which she promptly chugged). I had my suspicions early that it was staged. The cast told the audience member that "we've had our eyes on you all night," and the girl pulled back her outer coat and squeezed her chest. Pretty much something that you would expect from a cast member or friend of the cast. Then the following exchange happened:
Cast: "What's something that you love?"
Girl: (pointing at a guy) "Him!"
Cast: "Hey, I know him! He's from Miami!"
Girl: "What do you mean, you know him? Did you sleep with him?"
Cast: "Yeah, I'm a Miami w****!"
Pfft. Might as well have handed out scripts.
The emcee asked for a suggestion, but "only from a girl in the audience." Eh, fine. Then she instructed the audience that "I only want the girls to laugh." I was thisclose to shouting out something smart-alec. As it was, I followed her instructions.
Their opening consisted of the five of them standing in a semi-circle, shouting "What the f***?" ten times in unison, breaking apart and running around the stage, giggling and screaming, then coming back together and shouting "What the f***?" a few more times.
Imagine the worst girlfriend you've ever had. The most vulgar, catty girl you've had the misfortune to date. Then imagine her drunk enough to magnify all her worst qualities. Then imagine that there are five of her. Then imagine that they're trying to do comedy for a paying audience. That's Boner Petite. An oh-so-memorable scene about two girls trying to take "twin s***s" on the floor. Another round of synchronized "What the f***?" screaming. A light pull on "I pissed myself." (A buddy of mine shut off the lights -- in his defense, it was the best he was going to get.)
Several free passes for The Playground were laying on the floor in front of me after the show. I had no interest in picking any of them up.
Listen to this blurb from their website:
So... yeah. Don't go see them, even if you have a student discount or free pass. If you go to the Chicago Improv Festival in April and see them in the lineup, that's a good time to go get some dinner.
The best thing about this group? It gave me a newfound respect for all the talented female improvisers that I've had the fortune to perform with over the years. So thank you Emily, Sheryl, Jill, Cindy, Beth, Mandy, Katy, Liza, Tiana, and all my female students. You rock.
Boner Petite.
Yeah, I know. You shouldn't expect much from an improv group named "Boner Petite." In my defense, I had no idea who the headliner group was that night. Plus, I thought I heard "Bon Appetit" when they first introduced themselves. It made more sense when I heard it correctly later.
A few minutes after 10:00 -- the lights come up. Three girls rush the stage decked out in green. I'm watching them enter from stage right as I get pelted in the temple with a bag of popcorn, thrown by the girl on stage left. It made a pretty solid thud on my head, unusual for a bag of popcorn. The girl in stage center then takes a bottle of bubble solution and a wand and starts blowing bubbles into the audience. She spills some of the bubble solution on my knee. One of the girls, acting as emcee, introduces herself by grabbing her crotch and asking the guys in the audience, "Is my **** bigger than yours? Hell, yeah!"
After the worst start to an improv show I've ever endured, the guy sitting next to me hands me the bag of popcorn that had ricocheted off my forehead. He felt like I earned it. I decide to eat it during the opening acts. No butter, no salt, and stone cold. Meh. I figure out later what made the thud against the side of my forehead. A Hershey miniature was embedded inside the bag of popcorn. Guess that made it easier to throw. Kinda like putting a rock inside a snowball.
The first two acts were good, but I was in such a foul mood by that point, that I wasn't really enjoying it like I would have. Then Boner Petite took the stage for their set. They started off by bringing a "random" girl from the audience up on stage and giving her gifts of chocolate, marshmallow Peeps, and a Dixie cup of wine (which she promptly chugged). I had my suspicions early that it was staged. The cast told the audience member that "we've had our eyes on you all night," and the girl pulled back her outer coat and squeezed her chest. Pretty much something that you would expect from a cast member or friend of the cast. Then the following exchange happened:
Cast: "What's something that you love?"
Girl: (pointing at a guy) "Him!"
Cast: "Hey, I know him! He's from Miami!"
Girl: "What do you mean, you know him? Did you sleep with him?"
Cast: "Yeah, I'm a Miami w****!"
Pfft. Might as well have handed out scripts.
The emcee asked for a suggestion, but "only from a girl in the audience." Eh, fine. Then she instructed the audience that "I only want the girls to laugh." I was thisclose to shouting out something smart-alec. As it was, I followed her instructions.
Their opening consisted of the five of them standing in a semi-circle, shouting "What the f***?" ten times in unison, breaking apart and running around the stage, giggling and screaming, then coming back together and shouting "What the f***?" a few more times.
Imagine the worst girlfriend you've ever had. The most vulgar, catty girl you've had the misfortune to date. Then imagine her drunk enough to magnify all her worst qualities. Then imagine that there are five of her. Then imagine that they're trying to do comedy for a paying audience. That's Boner Petite. An oh-so-memorable scene about two girls trying to take "twin s***s" on the floor. Another round of synchronized "What the f***?" screaming. A light pull on "I pissed myself." (A buddy of mine shut off the lights -- in his defense, it was the best he was going to get.)
Several free passes for The Playground were laying on the floor in front of me after the show. I had no interest in picking any of them up.
Listen to this blurb from their website:
"Boner Petite is a 7-member, all-female, long-form improv ensemble composed of some of the hottest and most talented performers in the history of Chicago improv."Wow. They don't think too much of themselves. I can virtually guarantee that they all went out afterwards together and congratulated themselves on a great show. Not only do they put on bad shows, but they're completely oblivious as to how bad their shows are.
So... yeah. Don't go see them, even if you have a student discount or free pass. If you go to the Chicago Improv Festival in April and see them in the lineup, that's a good time to go get some dinner.
The best thing about this group? It gave me a newfound respect for all the talented female improvisers that I've had the fortune to perform with over the years. So thank you Emily, Sheryl, Jill, Cindy, Beth, Mandy, Katy, Liza, Tiana, and all my female students. You rock.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
The Police Officer Hat Trick
Okay, those of you who are hockey fans have undoubtedly heard the term "hat trick" -- signifying that a player has scored three goals in one game. It was actually originally a cricket term, but I don't have enough friends in the U.K. reading this blog, so let's ignore that for a moment. I had always assumed it referred to a magic trick, like a player did something miraculous. Wikipedia says it referred to hat manufacturers who would give a new fedora to players who scored three goals in one game. Pfft.
A slightly lesser known variation is known as the "Gordie Howe Hat Trick," where a player must get a goal, an assist, and a fight all in the same game.
Even lesser known is the "Police Officer Hat Trick." This feat is something that I myself only accomplished once in my nine-year-and-one-day career. You must consume the three stereotypical "cop foods" in one eight-hour shift: coffee, bacon, and a doughnut.
When you think about it, this is not as easy a task as it sounds. Sure, you could get coffee and bacon together at a Waffle House or IHOP easily. But neither of them serve doughnuts. You could get coffee and a doughnut at a Dunkin Donuts, Krispy Kreme, or most gas stations, but you can't get bacon (though DD's turkey/cheese/bacon flatbread sandwich has made this easier in recent years). I still say it has to be a stand-alone bacon order, and not part of a sandwich, to make this a TRUE police officer hat trick.
Yes, I accomplished this once. I got a cup of coffee and a doughnut early in my shift (it was midnight, and only myself and the gas station clerk were there to witness me in uniform eating a doughnut). Later that shift, a few of us went to an IHOP and I completed the hat trick by getting a side order of bacon with my stack of pancakes (and probably more coffee).
I'm sure some officers are way more proficient than I was in my career. But some of you out there might still be reaching for that achievement. The important thing is to recognize when you are 2/3 of the way complete with this milestone, and know what it takes to finish it.
A slightly lesser known variation is known as the "Gordie Howe Hat Trick," where a player must get a goal, an assist, and a fight all in the same game.
Even lesser known is the "Police Officer Hat Trick." This feat is something that I myself only accomplished once in my nine-year-and-one-day career. You must consume the three stereotypical "cop foods" in one eight-hour shift: coffee, bacon, and a doughnut.
When you think about it, this is not as easy a task as it sounds. Sure, you could get coffee and bacon together at a Waffle House or IHOP easily. But neither of them serve doughnuts. You could get coffee and a doughnut at a Dunkin Donuts, Krispy Kreme, or most gas stations, but you can't get bacon (though DD's turkey/cheese/bacon flatbread sandwich has made this easier in recent years). I still say it has to be a stand-alone bacon order, and not part of a sandwich, to make this a TRUE police officer hat trick.
Yes, I accomplished this once. I got a cup of coffee and a doughnut early in my shift (it was midnight, and only myself and the gas station clerk were there to witness me in uniform eating a doughnut). Later that shift, a few of us went to an IHOP and I completed the hat trick by getting a side order of bacon with my stack of pancakes (and probably more coffee).
I'm sure some officers are way more proficient than I was in my career. But some of you out there might still be reaching for that achievement. The important thing is to recognize when you are 2/3 of the way complete with this milestone, and know what it takes to finish it.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
How the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles helped me.
Growing up, you probably pondered the question "Do I dream in color, or in black & white?" For most people, this is a difficult question to answer. You might remember a few hazy details from your dreams, or in the case of particularly good/bad dreams, a step-by-step description of what happened. The question of whether you dream in color or not still tends to stump many people. Not me.
One night, I had a dream involving the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I'm not sure whether I had been watching the cartoon or playing one of the various video game spin-offs, but somehow they made it into my subconscious that night. I remember looking at one of them and saying, "Hi, Raphael!"
For those of you not completely familiar with the series -- there are really only two ways to recognize and distinguish the ninja turtles apart on sight alone. Their weapons and the color of their facemasks.
The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles helped me in my hour of need. They can help you, too.
One night, I had a dream involving the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I'm not sure whether I had been watching the cartoon or playing one of the various video game spin-offs, but somehow they made it into my subconscious that night. I remember looking at one of them and saying, "Hi, Raphael!"
For those of you not completely familiar with the series -- there are really only two ways to recognize and distinguish the ninja turtles apart on sight alone. Their weapons and the color of their facemasks.
- Leonardo -- blue facemask, katanas
- Donatello -- purple facemask, bo staff
- Raphael -- red facemask, pair of sai
- Michaelangelo -- orange facemask, nunchuks
The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles helped me in my hour of need. They can help you, too.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Pimpin' ain't easy... but it's hilarious!
I have always been taught that you should never, ever put your fellow improviser into a situation that forces spontaneity. Del Close was quoted in Truth in Comedy as saying that asking questions is the second worst thing an improviser can do. "In improvisation, when you ask a question, you are taking information away from your fellow player instead of adding information." When asked what the worst thing was that an improviser can do, Del opened an invisible book and said, "Here, read this out loud!"
I've always agreed 100% with this philosophy. That's the way I perform, and that's what I've taught to my students. Questions make me cringe.
Lately, though... I've been thinking about the exceptions to that rule. In 2007, I saw a group called "3 for All" (out of San Francisco) perform at the Black Box Improv Festival. They had been performing together for 20 years, and were absolutely fearless on stage together. If someone said, "Hey, sing us that song we like!" there wouldn't be a moment's hesitation on the other player's part. He'd jump right in and do it. We were all amazed.
I saw them as a group I could aspire to be like with 20 years of performing with the same people. Maybe by then, we could be less afraid to "break the rules" of improv together.
Then I started seeing a group called "The Improvised Shakespeare Company." Brilliant improv shows -- I have yet to be disappointed. Of course, it would have been a great improv show even without the Shakespearean dialogue. The fact that they can use the vernacular effortlessly makes the show brilliant.
One thing I realized as I watched their February 19th 10:30 show ("The Passion of Count Chocula") is that they're not afraid to set one another up for some forced spontaneity. Here's a paraphrased segment from that show.
Guard 1: "It's all part of the Chain of Life."
Guard 2: "Chain of Life? Sounds fascinating. Tell me all about it."
Guard 1: "Well, at the top you have God. Underneath him are the various angels."
Guard 2: "The cherubim."
Guard 1: "Right. The cherubim. And underneath them are all the magical creatures like the unicorns. Then underneath them is the King."
Guard 2: "I wonder... if a unicorn was to give an order, would the King have to follow it?"
(later...)
Guard 1: "Underneath us are the earthworms. And under them, there's only one thing."
Guard 2: "The devil. You know, it's sad to know that the only thing betwixt an Englishman and the devil is some earthworms."
Most beginner improvisers would be nervous and/or frustrated at Guard 2's first line in the above dialogue. Setting someone up like that (sometimes called "pimping out your fellow player") sounds like it could be disastrous for a scene. In this case, forcing someone to give a lengthy explanation to a concept turned out to be a very entertaining scene. In fact, it turned out to be a vital part of the plot (the unicorns were protecting the King, and made him impossible to assassinate).
As a group warmup, some improvisers do a round of "Top Five Things" (sometimes seven or even ten). One improviser provides a category for another improviser (i.e., "Breakfast cereals that haven't been invented yet."). That second improviser then has to come up with a list of items that fits into that category. The first few are the easiest to come up with. As it becomes more difficult to come up with new examples, the more ridiculous and entertaining it becomes. Same with compelling an improviser to give a lengthy explanation to a concept. The longer the train of thought continues, the more ridiculous and entertaining it becomes. Especially if the other improvisers on stage are listening well and can incorporate the ideas that are presented.
So does that mean it's okay to break The Rule? I still wouldn't recommend it for beginning improvisers. But as an improviser gets more comfortable on stage, and as a group becomes more playful together, sometimes you can put a player into a position where he or she is forced to do something spontaneous. It might even be a show highlight.
I've always agreed 100% with this philosophy. That's the way I perform, and that's what I've taught to my students. Questions make me cringe.
Lately, though... I've been thinking about the exceptions to that rule. In 2007, I saw a group called "3 for All" (out of San Francisco) perform at the Black Box Improv Festival. They had been performing together for 20 years, and were absolutely fearless on stage together. If someone said, "Hey, sing us that song we like!" there wouldn't be a moment's hesitation on the other player's part. He'd jump right in and do it. We were all amazed.
I saw them as a group I could aspire to be like with 20 years of performing with the same people. Maybe by then, we could be less afraid to "break the rules" of improv together.
Then I started seeing a group called "The Improvised Shakespeare Company." Brilliant improv shows -- I have yet to be disappointed. Of course, it would have been a great improv show even without the Shakespearean dialogue. The fact that they can use the vernacular effortlessly makes the show brilliant.
One thing I realized as I watched their February 19th 10:30 show ("The Passion of Count Chocula") is that they're not afraid to set one another up for some forced spontaneity. Here's a paraphrased segment from that show.
Guard 1: "It's all part of the Chain of Life."
Guard 2: "Chain of Life? Sounds fascinating. Tell me all about it."
Guard 1: "Well, at the top you have God. Underneath him are the various angels."
Guard 2: "The cherubim."
Guard 1: "Right. The cherubim. And underneath them are all the magical creatures like the unicorns. Then underneath them is the King."
Guard 2: "I wonder... if a unicorn was to give an order, would the King have to follow it?"
(later...)
Guard 1: "Underneath us are the earthworms. And under them, there's only one thing."
Guard 2: "The devil. You know, it's sad to know that the only thing betwixt an Englishman and the devil is some earthworms."
Most beginner improvisers would be nervous and/or frustrated at Guard 2's first line in the above dialogue. Setting someone up like that (sometimes called "pimping out your fellow player") sounds like it could be disastrous for a scene. In this case, forcing someone to give a lengthy explanation to a concept turned out to be a very entertaining scene. In fact, it turned out to be a vital part of the plot (the unicorns were protecting the King, and made him impossible to assassinate).
As a group warmup, some improvisers do a round of "Top Five Things" (sometimes seven or even ten). One improviser provides a category for another improviser (i.e., "Breakfast cereals that haven't been invented yet."). That second improviser then has to come up with a list of items that fits into that category. The first few are the easiest to come up with. As it becomes more difficult to come up with new examples, the more ridiculous and entertaining it becomes. Same with compelling an improviser to give a lengthy explanation to a concept. The longer the train of thought continues, the more ridiculous and entertaining it becomes. Especially if the other improvisers on stage are listening well and can incorporate the ideas that are presented.
So does that mean it's okay to break The Rule? I still wouldn't recommend it for beginning improvisers. But as an improviser gets more comfortable on stage, and as a group becomes more playful together, sometimes you can put a player into a position where he or she is forced to do something spontaneous. It might even be a show highlight.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Flashback to the 80's: Bonkers Candy
I remember back when I was a little kid, I had gone to visit my grandmother in Cleveland, Ohio. My cousin A.J. and I would hang out a lot while I was there. Unfortunately, there was a neighbor's dog a few houses down from my grandmother that terrorized me. It would chase me down the sidewalk, and it had a knack for being able to get out of its leash. I seem to remember that it even snapped the chain it was on (though the neighbor kid may have actually unhooked it from the chain).
Granted, the dog never actually caught me or bit me. Little 5-year-old Dylan wasn't THAT fast of a runner -- not enough to get away from a dog if it meant business. I'm not sure what kind of dog it was, but even a basset hound probably would have terrified me at the time.
I had no idea how to defeat this archenemy of a canine. Like the kids vs. the dog in "The Sandlot," it managed to outmaneuver me at every opportunity. Until the fateful day I saw that commercial.
Bonkers Candy -- Bonks You Out!
At last! A way for my brains to overcome this dog's brawn! I would carefully lay a trap for this dog. I would lay a piece of Bonkers Candy out where the dog would find it. It would eat the candy, and a giant piece of fruit would fall from the sky and crush the dog! Foolproof!
But which fruit flavor do I choose? Strawberry? Orange? Grape? Sure, all flavors seemed capable of crushing the elderly (and disturbingly leaving them laughing underneath). But which would be best for a medium sized dog? A.J. and I debated this point for a while. We ruled out Grape, since it had too many small spaces between the individual grapes from where a dog could crawl out relatively unscathed. Then it would see us, rationalize that we were the cause of the devious plot on its life, and chase after us before we could reset the trap with another fruit flavor. So my cousin and I each got a pack, one getting Strawberry and the other getting Orange.
Of course, we had to test the effectiveness of our death trap first before putting our plan into action. Since we didn't want to potentially damage my grandmother's ceiling, we went out into the driveway. That way, large falling produce would not cause a whole lot of collateral damage. We each took one Bonkers Candy and ate one. We kept looking upwards for oversized projectile strawberries and oranges. Nothing happened. My cousin and I swapped packs and tried each other's death-from-above flavor. Again, nothing. Just a softer version of a Starburst, really.
We finished the candy, each of us less naive about how commercials lie about the homicidal/suicidal nature of candy products. Eventually, my family left for Virginia. I left my cousin behind to fend for himself against the dog.
Granted, the dog never actually caught me or bit me. Little 5-year-old Dylan wasn't THAT fast of a runner -- not enough to get away from a dog if it meant business. I'm not sure what kind of dog it was, but even a basset hound probably would have terrified me at the time.
I had no idea how to defeat this archenemy of a canine. Like the kids vs. the dog in "The Sandlot," it managed to outmaneuver me at every opportunity. Until the fateful day I saw that commercial.
Bonkers Candy -- Bonks You Out!
At last! A way for my brains to overcome this dog's brawn! I would carefully lay a trap for this dog. I would lay a piece of Bonkers Candy out where the dog would find it. It would eat the candy, and a giant piece of fruit would fall from the sky and crush the dog! Foolproof!
But which fruit flavor do I choose? Strawberry? Orange? Grape? Sure, all flavors seemed capable of crushing the elderly (and disturbingly leaving them laughing underneath). But which would be best for a medium sized dog? A.J. and I debated this point for a while. We ruled out Grape, since it had too many small spaces between the individual grapes from where a dog could crawl out relatively unscathed. Then it would see us, rationalize that we were the cause of the devious plot on its life, and chase after us before we could reset the trap with another fruit flavor. So my cousin and I each got a pack, one getting Strawberry and the other getting Orange.
Of course, we had to test the effectiveness of our death trap first before putting our plan into action. Since we didn't want to potentially damage my grandmother's ceiling, we went out into the driveway. That way, large falling produce would not cause a whole lot of collateral damage. We each took one Bonkers Candy and ate one. We kept looking upwards for oversized projectile strawberries and oranges. Nothing happened. My cousin and I swapped packs and tried each other's death-from-above flavor. Again, nothing. Just a softer version of a Starburst, really.
We finished the candy, each of us less naive about how commercials lie about the homicidal/suicidal nature of candy products. Eventually, my family left for Virginia. I left my cousin behind to fend for himself against the dog.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Tongue Fu Master
So, tonight I showed my roommates the DVD of my improv intro student showcase. I myself hadn't seen it in its entirety since the night of the show (November 20th). Although I'm still very proud of the progress they made in just six weeks' worth of classes, one comment I heard (which I happen to agree with) is that many of the scenes started off with some kind of conflict. Both players had some kind of antagonistic viewpoint, and the scene turned into a battle of wills. Neither wanted to admit to the other that they were in the wrong. My roommate added, "How much more interesting would that scene have been if he had just said, 'Yep. I did it. I'm an idiot.'"
That launched the three of us into a discussion of why improvisers (not just intro students, mind you) tend to go for scenes with conflict. I stated that it's a natural tendency for anyone in a situation to go for the conflict. No one naturally wants to lose an argument in real life. Intentionally losing an argument is the unusual choice. Not being afraid to look foolish is the unusual choice. In improv, the unusual choice is what people want to see. An audience can see (or be a part of) an argument the other 166 hours of the week outside the theater. Give them what they don't expect.
When I was in the police academy, we were introduced to the concept of "verbal judo." Turns out that it operates on many of the same principles of improv comedy -- you defuse arguments by agreeing, rather than arguing, with another person.
Case in point -- Early in my career, I had arrested someone (I can't remember the charges or any of the circumstances leading up to the arrest). As I was taking him down to Booking, he started saying things to the effect of, "These cuffs gotta come off sometime. When they do... it's on!"
I know lots of officers that would have escalated the situation at this point. They would have riled up the arrestee by saying how they were martial arts experts (whether that's true or not), how they had all kinds of weapons ready on their utility belt, how they've taken down much bigger guys, how they'd have to be able to fight five cops at once down at booking, blah, blah, blah. None of that would have prevented a fight. In fact, it might have further convinced the guy to take a swing at the officer. Even if the officer "wins" the fight in the end, is it worth getting a tooth knocked out from a sucker punch?
Back to the original situation. What was my reaction to all this? "Well, man... you might just end up beating me. I'm just a big wuss." The guy in the back seat chuckled. He muttered a few times, "Heh. He says he's a big wuss." and things to that effect. But the fight was already taken out of him. He was right about one thing (which every cop needs to realize) -- the cuffs do have to come off at some point. Know what happened when they came off this time?
Nothing.
Could he have been bluffing? Maybe. Had enough time passed where he wasn't angry enough to fight? Possibly. I'll guarantee one thing -- not being afraid to "lose" an argument was the right choice. It was the unusual choice. It threw him for a loop, and took away a target for him to antagonize.
Why can't we as improvisers be as ready and even eager to "lose" an argument? It's not even YOU who loses the argument -- it's your CHARACTER. Who cares how foolish an imaginary character looks?
"You're a terrible boss to work for."
"Thank you. I try."
"I want a divorce."
"Way ahead of you. Got the paperwork ready for you to sign."
"You're fired!"
"Finally... I was beginning to think you hadn't noticed my shoddy work!"
Scenes don't have to turn into a 7-year-old squabble of "Did not!" "Did too!" "Are not!" "Are too!" "Nuh uh!" "Yuh huh!" Dare to be different. Lose the argument and see where it takes you.
That launched the three of us into a discussion of why improvisers (not just intro students, mind you) tend to go for scenes with conflict. I stated that it's a natural tendency for anyone in a situation to go for the conflict. No one naturally wants to lose an argument in real life. Intentionally losing an argument is the unusual choice. Not being afraid to look foolish is the unusual choice. In improv, the unusual choice is what people want to see. An audience can see (or be a part of) an argument the other 166 hours of the week outside the theater. Give them what they don't expect.
When I was in the police academy, we were introduced to the concept of "verbal judo." Turns out that it operates on many of the same principles of improv comedy -- you defuse arguments by agreeing, rather than arguing, with another person.
Case in point -- Early in my career, I had arrested someone (I can't remember the charges or any of the circumstances leading up to the arrest). As I was taking him down to Booking, he started saying things to the effect of, "These cuffs gotta come off sometime. When they do... it's on!"
I know lots of officers that would have escalated the situation at this point. They would have riled up the arrestee by saying how they were martial arts experts (whether that's true or not), how they had all kinds of weapons ready on their utility belt, how they've taken down much bigger guys, how they'd have to be able to fight five cops at once down at booking, blah, blah, blah. None of that would have prevented a fight. In fact, it might have further convinced the guy to take a swing at the officer. Even if the officer "wins" the fight in the end, is it worth getting a tooth knocked out from a sucker punch?
Back to the original situation. What was my reaction to all this? "Well, man... you might just end up beating me. I'm just a big wuss." The guy in the back seat chuckled. He muttered a few times, "Heh. He says he's a big wuss." and things to that effect. But the fight was already taken out of him. He was right about one thing (which every cop needs to realize) -- the cuffs do have to come off at some point. Know what happened when they came off this time?
Nothing.
Could he have been bluffing? Maybe. Had enough time passed where he wasn't angry enough to fight? Possibly. I'll guarantee one thing -- not being afraid to "lose" an argument was the right choice. It was the unusual choice. It threw him for a loop, and took away a target for him to antagonize.
Why can't we as improvisers be as ready and even eager to "lose" an argument? It's not even YOU who loses the argument -- it's your CHARACTER. Who cares how foolish an imaginary character looks?
"You're a terrible boss to work for."
"Thank you. I try."
"I want a divorce."
"Way ahead of you. Got the paperwork ready for you to sign."
"You're fired!"
"Finally... I was beginning to think you hadn't noticed my shoddy work!"
Scenes don't have to turn into a 7-year-old squabble of "Did not!" "Did too!" "Are not!" "Are too!" "Nuh uh!" "Yuh huh!" Dare to be different. Lose the argument and see where it takes you.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Bad Pickup Lines
Happy Singles Awareness Day, everyone! If you happen to be a bitter single guy on this mush-fest of a holiday, try this exercise to make you feel better. Go out to a bar or nightclub. Have this pre-printed list of bad pickup lines along with you. Try as many as you can. Getting rejected can be fun, if you're actually trying to get rejected. If you can get a friend to surreptitiously videotape the reactions, so much the better.
- Why don't you dump the hero and go with the zero?
- Why go with the best when you can go with the rest?
- Baby, if you were a booger, I would pick you first.
- Want me to disappoint you?
- Looking for your future ex-husband? Here I am!
- Nice shoes... want to kick me in the shins?
- How'd you like to spend the night watching me play first-person shooter games on the PlayStation 3?
- I wish I was your derivative so that I could lie tangent to your curves.
- Our love is like dividing by zero... you cannot define it.
- Roses are #FF0000, Violets are #0000FF, All my base are belong to you.
- You're so cute, you make my zygomatic muscles contract.
- If I could rearrange the periodic table, I'd put Uranium and Iodine together.
- Life without you is like a broken pencil. Pointless.
- Simplify this equation: 2i <>
- I'm attracted to you like the Earth is attracted to the Sun... with a large force inversely proportional to the distance squared.
- YouTube MySpace and I'll Google your Yahoo.
- Al Gore was wrong... the reason for global warming is YOU!
- You're as sweet as 3.14.
- You're a pile of dinosaur bones, baby. I dig you.
- My love for you is like pi. Irrational and never-ending.
- If you were a triangle, you'd be acute!
- Want me to call you in the morning? (No.) Should I just nudge you, then?
- I just pooped in my pants. Can I get into yours?
- Got your tickets? To the gun show? (flex arms)
- It's not my fault I fell in love. You tripped me.
- My name is Justin. Justin Credible.
- I can tell by the way you're ignoring me that you want me.
- There's something wrong with my cell phone. It doesn't have your number in it!
- Does your phone have GPS? 'Cause I got lost in your eyes.
- My love is like a Toyota Prius. It just won't stop.
- Someone farted. Let's get out of here.
- Baby, you set your phaser to "stunning."
- Your lips look so lonely. Would they like to meet mine?
- I have an "owie" on my lip. Would you kiss it and make it better?
- Do you have a Band-Aid? I scraped my knee falling for you.
- Greetings and salivations.
- I want you to have my children. Right now. They're waiting in the car.
- Does this rag smell like chloroform?
- Your place or my Mom's?
- Your name must be Princess Leia, because you're looking for love in Alderaan places.
- You sure have a good-looking tooth.
- Let's make like fabric softener and Snuggle.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
I make a terrible woman.
Sigh... it never fails. For as long as I've been doing improv, I've failed miserably at portraying women. Everyone on stage with me (and probably in the audience) thinks I'm trying to play an effeminate male. Must be because I look so manly. That's what I'll keep telling myself, anyway.
After a while, I gave up on trying to use my feminine wiles. Oh, I still portray women when the improv scene calls for it. But I don't alter my voice or my body language. Intentionally. I just make sure to specifically mention in some way that I'm a woman. One of the bigger chuckles that I got from the audience was in the game "Musical Audition." Each auditionee has to stand up and introduce themselves. I simply stood up and said, "Hi, my name is Jennifer." No attempt at a high pitched voice or low sultry voice. Just my normal Dylan voice.
Hey, it works. Try it sometime.
After a while, I gave up on trying to use my feminine wiles. Oh, I still portray women when the improv scene calls for it. But I don't alter my voice or my body language. Intentionally. I just make sure to specifically mention in some way that I'm a woman. One of the bigger chuckles that I got from the audience was in the game "Musical Audition." Each auditionee has to stand up and introduce themselves. I simply stood up and said, "Hi, my name is Jennifer." No attempt at a high pitched voice or low sultry voice. Just my normal Dylan voice.
Hey, it works. Try it sometime.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Improv Breakthrough!
Ah, yes. I knew it would be a matter of time before I had one of these moments. Less than three weeks after starting classes in Chicago, I finally realized what one of my biggest strengths is, and simultaneously what my biggest weakness is.
I took a workshop with Joe Bill (from BASSPROV, among others) on Sunday, January 24th. He was full of improv wisdom, and it made me really wish I hadn't set my notebook down on the other side of the room. I tried to write down as much as I could remember during the break, though.
Altogether, I did about four scenes with various other improvisers. The first was lousy, which I realized early (we were focused too much on an object -- a sandwich -- and not each other). The next two scenes were much better. The fourth and final scene was very memorable to me.
The exercise was this: start off the scene by NOT looking your scene partner in the eyes (contrasting the earlier scenes we had done). Give a few lines, then start making eye contact. I started off by admiring myself in the mirror. My scene partner was doing a crossword puzzle. The first few lines went like this:
Me: "Tonight's gonna be a good night. I can feel it!"
Other guy: "What's a 5-letter word for dinner?"
Me: "Pasta! Oooh! I'm on fire tonight!"
Other guy: "I don't think that's going to work..."
Me: (looking over his shoulder) "You must've done 14 Down wrong."
Other guy: "Oh, yeah... you're right!"
Me: "See! Can't stop me!"
At this point, Joe Bill told us to freeze. He suggested that I restate my initial lines, with more emotion. I did, and the scene took off. It became a scene where I wanted him to be my wingman, because he was frumpier and dumber than me, and he made me look good in comparison to all the ladies.
Joe Bill said after the scene that he saw I was starting to get distracted with the problem-solving of the crossword puzzle. I had made a strong, declarative statement to open the scene, and had gotten away from it. Chances are, I would never have gotten back to it without the suggestion to restate my opening line. Joe Bill said it's a good tool to keep in my improv toolbelt, and I agreed. I made extra sure to write that down in my notebook.
Class ended a couple of scenes later, and I walked home. On my way home, I kept thinking about that scene, and why that simple note made it work so much better. It finally occurred to me (around Belmont & Clark) that there's a greater reason behind it.
Probably my greatest strength as an improviser is my ability to "Yes And." No matter what comes out of my scene partner's mouth, I'll take it and run with it. However, this can also be my biggest weakness.
Why would I say that? Isn't the concept of agreement the foundation of improv comedy? Don't we teach beginning improvisers this on the first day? Wouldn't that strength make me the most valuable person on a team? Not necessarily. Not when I follow my scene partner's lead AT THE EXPENSE OF MY OWN IDEAS.
In the above example, I was quick to give up everything of my own to support what my scene partner had said and done. My own line of "Tonight's gonna be a good night. I can feel it!" was rich with possibilities. Any two improvisers could have made a good scene out of that. My scene partner's line of "What's a 5-letter word for dinner?" certainly needed to be acknowledged and incorporated into the scene, but it didn't need to be the focal point. Discussing a crossword puzzle can only be interesting for so long. I made a good opening line. I should trust that. Throwing it away doesn't do me, my scene partner, or the audience any good.
I need to re-read Mick Napier's "Improvise." It's probably the best book out there that deals with this exact sort of thing. The concept of "take care of yourself first" can sound like something completely backwards to improv teaching, where it's most important to make your scene partner look good. But if I was to make my character's wants and motivations clear and well-defined, my scene partner has something to work with and the scene will progress.
So, yeah... my brain exploded yesterday afternoon. Once I put the pieces back together, hopefully I'll be wiser for the experience.
Oh, and if you get a chance to take a workshop with Joe Bill, do it.
I took a workshop with Joe Bill (from BASSPROV, among others) on Sunday, January 24th. He was full of improv wisdom, and it made me really wish I hadn't set my notebook down on the other side of the room. I tried to write down as much as I could remember during the break, though.
Altogether, I did about four scenes with various other improvisers. The first was lousy, which I realized early (we were focused too much on an object -- a sandwich -- and not each other). The next two scenes were much better. The fourth and final scene was very memorable to me.
The exercise was this: start off the scene by NOT looking your scene partner in the eyes (contrasting the earlier scenes we had done). Give a few lines, then start making eye contact. I started off by admiring myself in the mirror. My scene partner was doing a crossword puzzle. The first few lines went like this:
Me: "Tonight's gonna be a good night. I can feel it!"
Other guy: "What's a 5-letter word for dinner?"
Me: "Pasta! Oooh! I'm on fire tonight!"
Other guy: "I don't think that's going to work..."
Me: (looking over his shoulder) "You must've done 14 Down wrong."
Other guy: "Oh, yeah... you're right!"
Me: "See! Can't stop me!"
At this point, Joe Bill told us to freeze. He suggested that I restate my initial lines, with more emotion. I did, and the scene took off. It became a scene where I wanted him to be my wingman, because he was frumpier and dumber than me, and he made me look good in comparison to all the ladies.
Joe Bill said after the scene that he saw I was starting to get distracted with the problem-solving of the crossword puzzle. I had made a strong, declarative statement to open the scene, and had gotten away from it. Chances are, I would never have gotten back to it without the suggestion to restate my opening line. Joe Bill said it's a good tool to keep in my improv toolbelt, and I agreed. I made extra sure to write that down in my notebook.
Class ended a couple of scenes later, and I walked home. On my way home, I kept thinking about that scene, and why that simple note made it work so much better. It finally occurred to me (around Belmont & Clark) that there's a greater reason behind it.
Probably my greatest strength as an improviser is my ability to "Yes And." No matter what comes out of my scene partner's mouth, I'll take it and run with it. However, this can also be my biggest weakness.
Why would I say that? Isn't the concept of agreement the foundation of improv comedy? Don't we teach beginning improvisers this on the first day? Wouldn't that strength make me the most valuable person on a team? Not necessarily. Not when I follow my scene partner's lead AT THE EXPENSE OF MY OWN IDEAS.
In the above example, I was quick to give up everything of my own to support what my scene partner had said and done. My own line of "Tonight's gonna be a good night. I can feel it!" was rich with possibilities. Any two improvisers could have made a good scene out of that. My scene partner's line of "What's a 5-letter word for dinner?" certainly needed to be acknowledged and incorporated into the scene, but it didn't need to be the focal point. Discussing a crossword puzzle can only be interesting for so long. I made a good opening line. I should trust that. Throwing it away doesn't do me, my scene partner, or the audience any good.
I need to re-read Mick Napier's "Improvise." It's probably the best book out there that deals with this exact sort of thing. The concept of "take care of yourself first" can sound like something completely backwards to improv teaching, where it's most important to make your scene partner look good. But if I was to make my character's wants and motivations clear and well-defined, my scene partner has something to work with and the scene will progress.
So, yeah... my brain exploded yesterday afternoon. Once I put the pieces back together, hopefully I'll be wiser for the experience.
Oh, and if you get a chance to take a workshop with Joe Bill, do it.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Blue Humor = The Dark Side of the Force
Ah, yes. The question of blue humor. "Can we say this?" is a question that often comes up in one of the first weeks of improv class. Sexual innuendos, bathroom humor... the situation prompting the question changes, but my response is usually the same. And since I'm a huge Star Wars geek, I turn to the ultimate source of wisdom -- Yoda.
The Empire Strikes Back
"Master Yoda, is the Dark Side stronger?"
"No! Quicker... easier... more seductive..."
Return of the Jedi
"Once you start down the Dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny!"
Substitute the concept of the Dark Side of the Force with blue humor, and you've got my position on the subject. Yes, it's quick and easy to make a fart joke or a Viagra joke. But it doesn't make for better improv. If you drop the F-bomb in a show for "shock value," you'll end up using it again and again throughout the rest of the show.
Improv comedy can be perfectly good without resorting to bathroom humor. Yes, sometimes more adult themes will surface in a show. There's no way to completely prevent it. It's how you deal with those situations that shows your true mettle as an improviser. Do you sink down to the level of poop jokes? Or do you find something more important going on in the scene? Good improv comes from the relationship between two characters. Find that.
Mind what you have learned. Save you it can. Never turn to the Dark Side.
The Empire Strikes Back
"Master Yoda, is the Dark Side stronger?"
"No! Quicker... easier... more seductive..."
Return of the Jedi
"Once you start down the Dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny!"
Substitute the concept of the Dark Side of the Force with blue humor, and you've got my position on the subject. Yes, it's quick and easy to make a fart joke or a Viagra joke. But it doesn't make for better improv. If you drop the F-bomb in a show for "shock value," you'll end up using it again and again throughout the rest of the show.
Improv comedy can be perfectly good without resorting to bathroom humor. Yes, sometimes more adult themes will surface in a show. There's no way to completely prevent it. It's how you deal with those situations that shows your true mettle as an improviser. Do you sink down to the level of poop jokes? Or do you find something more important going on in the scene? Good improv comes from the relationship between two characters. Find that.
Mind what you have learned. Save you it can. Never turn to the Dark Side.
Improv: Can anyone do it?
Whenever I taught an intro level improv class, I would always tell my students that "anyone can do improv." A bold claim? Perhaps. But I feel that this claim is justified.
First of all, the fact that the students are even IN the class shows that they're at least somewhat motivated to learn. Having motivation is the biggest key, in my opinion. It's the instructor's job to simply not kill this motivation (and hopefully encourage it).
Every student is going to face difficulties at some point in the course. For some, the concept of "Yes And" might be a tough one to figure out. Many students need to have the instinct to ask a lot of questions ritually beat from them. The goal, of course, is to create an environment where it's okay to make "mistakes" and to encourage students when things aren't going well.
No two students are going to learn exactly the same way. Hearing an improv concept explained one way might sound like a foreign language. Sometimes the instructor will have to explain or demonstrate these ideas multiple different ways. Sometimes it will even require learning from more than one instructor. This is by no means the fault of the beginning improviser. It is the responsibility of the instructor to ensure the learning.
What does it take to be a good improv instructor?
1. Be a good improviser yourself. Perform every chance you get. Perform with good improvisers and weak improvisers. Learn how to adapt to different players' styles. Take every workshop you can. Get notes from your director/coach on your performances and rehearsals. Discuss your shows with fellow players. Watch shows that aren't your own. Read books and blogs of experienced improvisers. Take classes, even intro level courses. Know the fundamentals of improv.
2. Be patient. Doubly so in beginner classes. Most have never done improv before meeting you. They will make mistakes that make you cringe on the inside. Don't try to fix everything right away. Focus on one fundamental concept at a time, and let the pieces fall into place.
3. Have fun. Enjoy what you're doing. If teaching improv comedy ever starts to feel like work, you're doing something wrong. The instructor should laugh the loudest. Nothing makes an intro level student feel better than knowing they did well enough to make the instructor laugh.
4. Praise often. Before class, during each exercise, at the end of every class, in your Facebook status updates... every chance you get. There has never been an improv class in the history of civilization that didn't have something positive come out of it. Accentuate it. Brag about your students.
5. Take notes and keep them. Not just from other classes you've taken and other instructors you've learned from (although those are extremely valuable), but notes on classes you've taught. Not just the good stuff that happened, but the bad, too. What worked in a lesson? What didn't work? Being able to refer to this later will help you refine your classes and build stronger improvisers.
6. Develop an arsenal of exercises. Know what exercises can help focus on and bring out different skills. However, don't rely on just the exercises. Be able to spot good and bad examples, and help your students to know the difference.
I feel that any improviser who wants to better their own skills needs to teach improv as well. Like going from Jedi Padawan to Jedi Knight to Jedi Master, an improviser should seek to further themselves. Not only is this valuable for those taking the class, but you learn more by teaching others. It forces you to recall and reinforce the fundamentals of improv yourself. You learn to evaluate a scene and recognize the good and bad points. You will find that your own performances are enhanced from the experience of teaching.
One goal of mine is to open an improv training center in the city of Nashville. However, more important than training new students is to train new instructors. The next generation of improvisers depends on this.
First of all, the fact that the students are even IN the class shows that they're at least somewhat motivated to learn. Having motivation is the biggest key, in my opinion. It's the instructor's job to simply not kill this motivation (and hopefully encourage it).
Every student is going to face difficulties at some point in the course. For some, the concept of "Yes And" might be a tough one to figure out. Many students need to have the instinct to ask a lot of questions ritually beat from them. The goal, of course, is to create an environment where it's okay to make "mistakes" and to encourage students when things aren't going well.
No two students are going to learn exactly the same way. Hearing an improv concept explained one way might sound like a foreign language. Sometimes the instructor will have to explain or demonstrate these ideas multiple different ways. Sometimes it will even require learning from more than one instructor. This is by no means the fault of the beginning improviser. It is the responsibility of the instructor to ensure the learning.
What does it take to be a good improv instructor?
1. Be a good improviser yourself. Perform every chance you get. Perform with good improvisers and weak improvisers. Learn how to adapt to different players' styles. Take every workshop you can. Get notes from your director/coach on your performances and rehearsals. Discuss your shows with fellow players. Watch shows that aren't your own. Read books and blogs of experienced improvisers. Take classes, even intro level courses. Know the fundamentals of improv.
2. Be patient. Doubly so in beginner classes. Most have never done improv before meeting you. They will make mistakes that make you cringe on the inside. Don't try to fix everything right away. Focus on one fundamental concept at a time, and let the pieces fall into place.
3. Have fun. Enjoy what you're doing. If teaching improv comedy ever starts to feel like work, you're doing something wrong. The instructor should laugh the loudest. Nothing makes an intro level student feel better than knowing they did well enough to make the instructor laugh.
4. Praise often. Before class, during each exercise, at the end of every class, in your Facebook status updates... every chance you get. There has never been an improv class in the history of civilization that didn't have something positive come out of it. Accentuate it. Brag about your students.
5. Take notes and keep them. Not just from other classes you've taken and other instructors you've learned from (although those are extremely valuable), but notes on classes you've taught. Not just the good stuff that happened, but the bad, too. What worked in a lesson? What didn't work? Being able to refer to this later will help you refine your classes and build stronger improvisers.
6. Develop an arsenal of exercises. Know what exercises can help focus on and bring out different skills. However, don't rely on just the exercises. Be able to spot good and bad examples, and help your students to know the difference.
I feel that any improviser who wants to better their own skills needs to teach improv as well. Like going from Jedi Padawan to Jedi Knight to Jedi Master, an improviser should seek to further themselves. Not only is this valuable for those taking the class, but you learn more by teaching others. It forces you to recall and reinforce the fundamentals of improv yourself. You learn to evaluate a scene and recognize the good and bad points. You will find that your own performances are enhanced from the experience of teaching.
One goal of mine is to open an improv training center in the city of Nashville. However, more important than training new students is to train new instructors. The next generation of improvisers depends on this.
Shortform v. Longform improv
For those of you reading this who aren't improv comedians or aficionados, a few definitions:
Short form improv: Sometimes known as theater games, improvisers get suggestions and act out a scene, perform a song, make puns, etc., often with some kind of rule, structure, or gimmick that needs to be followed. Most short-form games last in the 3-5 minute range, are ended, and then changed to something with a completely different set of instructions.
Long form improv: Although there can still be some kind of overall structure to the performance piece (i.e., "The Harold"), it's more of a free-form style, focusing on scenework. A wide variety of styles can fall under the umbrella of long form. Generally, the audience provides one suggestion to the cast, the cast uses that suggestion to generate ideas and use that as a starting inspiration point for the entire show.
I feel very fortunate. My early training and experience (mostly through Improv Nashville) allowed me the opportunity to see, rehearse, perform, and appreciate both longform and short form improv comedy.
Is one style "better" than the other? In my humble opinion, no.
Short form advocates say that playing 3-5 minute games forces players to focus on building the who/what/where of a scene right away, getting to the important part of a scene. But isn't that also an important skill for longform players?
Longform advocates tout the importance of focusing on the relationship between two characters. But shortform players need this just as much.
Which one do audiences prefer? I've seen good and bad shows for both skill sets. It's the quality of the performer, not the style of the show, that makes for good improv comedy.
Which should improvisers study? Both, if the opportunity presents itself. Studying only longform and refusing to study shortform (or vice versa) is like a boxer that will only practice punching with his right fist. Yeah, you'll be incredible with your one strength, but not being well-rounded will only make you suffer in the long run.
So for beginning improvisers wondering where to start, or experienced improvisers looking to better their performances, I say get yourself well-rounded. Some of the best longform players at iO that I've seen have their pictures on the wall at ComedySportz. Many have taken classes, taught classes, coached teams, and performed both styles.
What do I hope to have at any future improv theater venture? Anything and everything. I will encourage the ensemble to try their hand at different styles. Of course, play to your strength and do what you love the most, but don't ever stop trying to develop yourself as a player.
Short form improv: Sometimes known as theater games, improvisers get suggestions and act out a scene, perform a song, make puns, etc., often with some kind of rule, structure, or gimmick that needs to be followed. Most short-form games last in the 3-5 minute range, are ended, and then changed to something with a completely different set of instructions.
Long form improv: Although there can still be some kind of overall structure to the performance piece (i.e., "The Harold"), it's more of a free-form style, focusing on scenework. A wide variety of styles can fall under the umbrella of long form. Generally, the audience provides one suggestion to the cast, the cast uses that suggestion to generate ideas and use that as a starting inspiration point for the entire show.
I feel very fortunate. My early training and experience (mostly through Improv Nashville) allowed me the opportunity to see, rehearse, perform, and appreciate both longform and short form improv comedy.
Is one style "better" than the other? In my humble opinion, no.
Short form advocates say that playing 3-5 minute games forces players to focus on building the who/what/where of a scene right away, getting to the important part of a scene. But isn't that also an important skill for longform players?
Longform advocates tout the importance of focusing on the relationship between two characters. But shortform players need this just as much.
Which one do audiences prefer? I've seen good and bad shows for both skill sets. It's the quality of the performer, not the style of the show, that makes for good improv comedy.
Which should improvisers study? Both, if the opportunity presents itself. Studying only longform and refusing to study shortform (or vice versa) is like a boxer that will only practice punching with his right fist. Yeah, you'll be incredible with your one strength, but not being well-rounded will only make you suffer in the long run.
So for beginning improvisers wondering where to start, or experienced improvisers looking to better their performances, I say get yourself well-rounded. Some of the best longform players at iO that I've seen have their pictures on the wall at ComedySportz. Many have taken classes, taught classes, coached teams, and performed both styles.
What do I hope to have at any future improv theater venture? Anything and everything. I will encourage the ensemble to try their hand at different styles. Of course, play to your strength and do what you love the most, but don't ever stop trying to develop yourself as a player.
I shall return, in accordance with prophecy!
Well, almost three weeks have passed since I left the city of Nashville. I left with a plan. To see how I arrived at this plan, let's work backwards.
1. I don't want to work in a cubicle all day or be subject to the whims of management.
2. I like improv comedy. It was my one source of joy most weeks as a cop.
3. I would love to do improv for a living.
4. Simply performing improv shows won't pay the bills.
5. Owning/managing an improv theater won't make me rich, but I could make a living.
6. I would need a lot of performances every week to pay the bills.
7. I would need a lot of performers to fill those time slots.
8. Those performers would have to be good, so that people will keep coming back to see them.
9. Someone's gotta train them.
10. To be a good trainer, I need to know improv as well as possible.
11. To know improv very well, I need to go where the best instruction is.
12. Chicago is the Mecca of improv comedy.
13. To complete training programs at places like iO or ComedySportz, it'll take about a year.
14. Therefore, I must pack up and leave Nashville for a while, but will return better prepared to make improv comedy something big in Music City, USA.
There's a lot to consider between now and next year. Casting, show formats, auditions, classes, cast training, location, management staff, promotions, marketing, incorporation, business permits, alcohol permits, and lots more. Fortunately, I have plenty of time to get that sorted out.
In the meantime, I plan to publish blogs about the various things that I've learned from my improv instructors, highlights of shows that I've seen, things that I'm pondering about the future improv theater, and of course, some random nonsense. Enjoy.
-Dylan
1. I don't want to work in a cubicle all day or be subject to the whims of management.
2. I like improv comedy. It was my one source of joy most weeks as a cop.
3. I would love to do improv for a living.
4. Simply performing improv shows won't pay the bills.
5. Owning/managing an improv theater won't make me rich, but I could make a living.
6. I would need a lot of performances every week to pay the bills.
7. I would need a lot of performers to fill those time slots.
8. Those performers would have to be good, so that people will keep coming back to see them.
9. Someone's gotta train them.
10. To be a good trainer, I need to know improv as well as possible.
11. To know improv very well, I need to go where the best instruction is.
12. Chicago is the Mecca of improv comedy.
13. To complete training programs at places like iO or ComedySportz, it'll take about a year.
14. Therefore, I must pack up and leave Nashville for a while, but will return better prepared to make improv comedy something big in Music City, USA.
There's a lot to consider between now and next year. Casting, show formats, auditions, classes, cast training, location, management staff, promotions, marketing, incorporation, business permits, alcohol permits, and lots more. Fortunately, I have plenty of time to get that sorted out.
In the meantime, I plan to publish blogs about the various things that I've learned from my improv instructors, highlights of shows that I've seen, things that I'm pondering about the future improv theater, and of course, some random nonsense. Enjoy.
-Dylan
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
