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.
Monday, February 15, 2010
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