Improv is an art form. It relies on the world view of the performer. It is said many times that you must react honestly and respond in the moment to what is happening in your scene. This is why “good improv” is subject to the viewer’s opinion. People sometimes joke that improv is a form of therapy. I always think improvisers need therapy (including myself). I recently had an improv audition that was a true life lesson.
I arrived 30 minutes before my audition, as directed, so that I could meet and warm up with the other actors in my group. Since improv can be (and should, in my opinion) a personal stage experience between two actors, I like to have some degree of familiarity with someone before I perform. There were only 4 of us out of the expected 8 that were on time. The other actors showed up right at the time of the audition and we all filed into the room without even having introduced ourselves. Oh well, let’s roll with it and improvise!
My first scene was goodish. The actress initiated, I supported it, we found a decent game to play and we had fun and vivid characters. Score! The next scene I did was going to be amazing, since I was instructed to initiate the first line of the scene. I always feel a little more comfortable and in control if I am giving the first line.
“Well hello, Martha! You know what the best thing about giving back to the homeless is? You get to feel better about yourself!” I could see myself as a society matron, full of misdirected love. My object work rocked. I spooned out large globs of soup to invisible homeless people going down the cafeteria line. Then, my scene partner stepped out to deliver his support line.
“Oh Barbara, I’m so glad you brought me here.” He had a creepy look in his eye. He slithered over and wrapped his arms around my body and hugged me. He wouldn’t let go. It was a very intense and physical embrace, especially for a stranger who came late and didn’t bother introducing themselves. I slipped into panic mode and I got thrown off in the scene. It became awkwardly fighty. My sincere reaction was for his character to get the fuck off me and stop touching me. I told him to “go fold napkins”. Horrible. Definitely not the textbook improv they were looking for.
We both acted the roles very well and were able to justify any curveballs we threw at each other. After the audition, the guy stalked up to me and asked, “Did you like our scene?”
“Are you still in character?”
“Mayyyyybe.”
“You’re creeping me out!”
“Sorry.” He dropped the act. “Seriously, though. Did you like it?”
Now, I am an honest individual. It is nearly impossible for me to lie or pretend to like something that I don’t. What you see is exactly what you get – for better or worse.
“Well, I didn’t think it was great. I got thrown off because of the physical nature of the scene, but I should’ve accepted that and gotten more physical with you. I am just not comfortable doing that right away with someone who didn’t show up to the warm up to introduce themselves. “
His face fell and, instantly, I felt bad. He nodded and said that was a valid point. He slinked away.
By the time I got downstairs, I had analyzed everything in my life. I was tripped out. Improv acid. Why don’t I let people hug me? Why is the thought of a stranger touching me so repellent? How did I instinctively go against the training that I know and fight against him in the scene? AND, if that was my honest reaction to what was happening in the scene, why do I feel so bad about how I played it? I waited on the street for this guy to come downstairs. I had to talk to him… like a crazyperson.
“Hey! Wait up!”
He turned around and his eyes brightened, “I was just thinking about you!”
We talked for about fifteen minutes. He told me how he felt bad that he wasn’t more of a team player by showing up on time. I admitted I should have dropped what was in my head and heightened his physicality. We agreed that we did the best we could and talked about our personal beliefs about the art of improv. We shook hands and went our separate ways. Strangers touched by each other. He was a very cool guy. Also, he was very cute.
Neither one of us got a callback from the audition.
What I learned from the audition is this: I must be willing to go with the flow. In everything. A hug can feel good. An unexpected hug should feel better. If someone is wrong, I have to let it go. It takes too much energy to fight, even if the fight is natural. I didn’t need the validation of getting a callback to feel good about my talent. I was myself. What’s funny about me is me, not what people may expect of me. I need to graduate myself to the next level of entertainment – write, direct, be, here, NOW. You must have the bad things in life to be able to appreciate the good things. Balance. Believe in myself. Believe in others. Most of all, love everything.
I can’t believe I just blogged about improv. NERD!
…and I can’t believe you just read it.
