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Tue, 21 May 2013 11:27:59 -0700

Laugh at Cancer

Tue, 14 May 2013 17:49:00 -0700

Reading “The Associated Press Guide to News Writing” (because I write news and other things for a living, and it’s good to brush up), I came across this point:

“Never treat death, pain and suffering – human or animal – lightly or humorously.”

That’s good advice for news writing. But I think the opposite is true for comedy.

Death, pain and suffering are the only things worth treating humorously, in my opinion. Those things and the things that cause them, like hatred, injustice and chaos.

The best thing that comedy can do is to destroy fear, or at least mitigate it. Good comedy gives us power over our fears. Shitty comedy just distracts us from them, which is what a lot of people prefer, because that’s easier. It’s on the surface. To gain power over fear, we have to acknowledge it, and that’s uncomfortable.

Comedy should be uncomfortable. Sometimes it should be very uncomfortable. Sometimes when people say, “That’s not funny,” what they really mean is, “I don’t want to think about that.”

The point is this: If you’re going to just do a silly voice and a pratfall, get the fuck out of my face. (I say that with my standard disclaimer, which is that I’m as guilty of doing it as anyone, or more so.)

"Making people laugh is the lowest form of comedy."

Mon, 13 May 2013 11:51:28 -0700

“Making people laugh is the lowest form of comedy.”

- Michael O’Donoghue

"I was in Montreal at the annual comedy festival, and they have a lot of street performers in..."

Tue, 07 May 2013 11:03:00 -0700

“

I was in Montreal at the annual comedy festival, and they have a lot of street performers in Montreal, a lot of buskers I guess is the proper word, a romantic term for mimes and whatnot.

I was walking down the street and there was this huge crowd in the distance, gathered around something. I couldn’t really tell what it was, and as I got closer I saw that they were all looking up at something, but I still wasn’t clear what it was. And as I got closer I could hear them applauding and saw there, in the middle of the crowd, a guy in a clown suit on stilts, juggling. And people were just ecstatic. It was as if Jesus had come back. They were climbing over each other to put money in his hat. I looked at the spectacle of it and thought, “It’s a fuckin’ clown, you know, do we need another fuckin’ clown?” And then I kept walking down the street and about a block farther on another corner there was a guy playing saxophone. He was just standing there by himself and he was brilliant; he sounded like Coltrane, just blowing his guts out. Huge riffs. His neck looked like it was about to explode. No one was watching. There was like fifty cents in his sax case and a little stack of CDs. I looked up the street and saw a fresh crowd starting to gather around the juggling clown. Meanwhile, this guy’s still blowing his guts out. Then he stops. I look at him and say, ‘Jesus, man, that was beautiful. Was that Coltrane?’ He says, ‘No, it’s an original, and if you like it so much, why don’t you buy my fuckin’ CD? It’s on there.’

‘All right,’ I said. I pick up the CD and look at it.

He says, ‘It’s cut three.’ I turned over the CD. You know what it was called? It was called ‘Killing the Clown on Stilts.’

”

- Marc Maron, “Attempting Normal”

"I don’t care if I’m not on your team, I’d just like to be asked."

Fri, 03 May 2013 09:53:39 -0700

“I don’t care if I’m not on your team, I’d just like to be asked.”

- Every improviser ever (via jessedontthink)

mullaney: Etiquette for starting an improv scene If someone...

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 15:19:00 -0700

mullaney:

Etiquette for starting an improv scene

If someone sets a chair for you, sit in it

I mean this both figuratively and literally.

I mean it literally. I’ve lost count of how many times I set a chair or chairs on stage only to watch my scene partners stare like the apes in “2001” encountering the obelisk. I’m not sure how to make that move clearer other than to point and say “Sit down” (which I actually saw someone do once). And I say this as a guy who’s usually really stupid at figuring out what my scene partners want. When someone puts a chair on stage, I get really excited because I actually know what to do.

Untitled: A TOUGH LOVE GUIDE TO INDIE IMPROV

Mon, 25 Mar 2013 16:14:00 -0700

Untitled: A TOUGH LOVE GUIDE TO INDIE IMPROV:

catbathchad:

I will often reach out to established groups, as well as veteran improvisers to participate in special features. These improvisers bring name value to my show and they are doing me the courtesy of performing for free. I don’t expect them to donate and they are welcome to sit in the lobby during their hour.

If you have submitted, you have asked for stage time – therefore you do not meet this criteria. So why are you sitting in my lobby and disrespecting the other teams in your hour? If you think you’ve paid your dues, you’re wrong.

I think I understand Chad’s point here. If a promoter invites certain improvisers to perform at a show while the rest of us are submitting, then yes, those improvisers are doing the promoter a favor by showing up, and the promoter can’t in all politeness ask them to donate, watch other improvisers perform, or do any other “favors.”

But they still should.

They should for all the reasons Chad explained the rest of us should. Because these shows are an important part of the local improv scene, and deserve to be supported, not just used. Because donating keeps the shows running for us beginners and students. Because staying to watch the other performers do their sets is a nice gesture. Because it’s just polite.

If Chad means that he doesn’t feel comfortable asking performers for donations after he’s invited them to do his show, I get that. Asking for that would probably be gauche. But I don’t think they should be encouraged not to donate. I don’t think they should be encouraged to sit in “his” lobby (or, more accurately, the Asylum Lab’s lobby) instead of watching the show. They shouldn’t have to be asked; they should just do.

These performers are literally our teachers, so when we see them behave a certain way — showing up to do a set and then leaving without watching anyone else — it absolutely sends the message that that’s OK to do. And while I appreciate and sympathize with the hard work Chad and all other promoters do to put up their shows, we performers do not see, know or care about who submitted versus who was invited, or any other part of how the sausage gets made. All we see is our role models not staying to watch us or the rest of the show.

Those of us who need the rooms and ask for the opportunity to work out in them owe it to the promoters and the other performers, our peers, to donate, and to stick around and watch them play. But I don’t believe anyone is exempt from those “rules,” which aren’t rules so much as common courtesies.

A true thing that’s often said about long-form improv is it’s beautiful how you get to...

Sun, 17 Mar 2013 23:27:18 -0700

A true thing that’s often said about long-form improv is it’s beautiful how you get to perform these scenes that, good or bad, will happen only once and then disappear forever. What they don’t tell you is that the vast majority of the good scenes happen in practice sessions.

What I Learned From Eliza Skinner

Thu, 07 Mar 2013 10:47:58 -0800

improvobsession:

I watched a Diamond Lion show not too long ago, and the show was flawless. But, there was a moment I noticed in one of the songs, in the middle of a bar, Eliza stumbled a over a word or two. They just came out as non-words. And why wouldn’t that happen? Making up a song on the spot is tough.

No more than four lines later, Eliza INTENTIONALLY stumbled over words and turned it into this kind of scat sounding thing in the middle of her line. She paid off her “mistake.” And, she didn’t do it again. She made her mistake seem like a choice, and then she moved on.

Read More

Casey Feigh did this kind of thing last night at Room 101.

Early in a macroscene that took place at a high school, Casey at one point obviously meant to say that a student parked their car in the teachers’ parking lot, but he stumbled on his words and accidentally said “teachers’ lounge.” The mistake got a laugh, but he quickly covered it by saying the car in the teachers’ lounge must be part of a senior prank. After that, senior pranks became a major through line for the macroscene. Brilliant.

Teachers and coaches often say that the best and most rewarding scenes come from the “mistakes” you make on stage. That ain’t no bullshit.

Improv, Fashion, and Puppies: Your Monitor (Stage Fright)

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 17:18:32 -0800

Improv, Fashion, and Puppies: Your Monitor (Stage Fright):

sabrinalondon:

I was reading Jay Mohr’s book, “Gasping for Airtime: Two Years in the Trenches of Saturday Night Live” and came across this:

Buddy’s theory was that the first time a comic goes onstage, his monitor is 100. Standing onstage is so foreign and standing in front of a live audience is so frightening that being yourself is the hardest thing to do. Yet in spite of nearly everything in your brain working against you, you still earn applause. Even though you had use less than 1 percent of your natural talent, people still saw a spark in you and wanted you to come back.

Buddy Hackett.

"Improv is great to a point, but it’s only the beginning in one’s comedy career. Write!"

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 11:26:34 -0800

“Improv is great to a point, but it’s only the beginning in one’s comedy career. Write!”

- Eddie Pepitone

downrightupright: nicclee: improvisorsimprovisor: improv-is-ea...

Fri, 08 Feb 2013 12:41:56 -0800

downrightupright:

nicclee:

improvisorsimprovisor:

improv-is-easy:

scorwitz asked improv-is-easy:

If Game is the thing you repeat, then what is the difference between Pattern and Game?

Game is funny/interesting/heartfelt.

A Pattern (an empty pattern, anyway) isn’t.

I respectfully suggest that this needs a little bit more clarification. A Game is a Pattern, but it’s a pattern of human behavior that’s fun to play around with and helps provide structure to a scene. At its broadest, a pattern is anything repeated. 2, 4, 6, 8 is a pattern. But a bunch of improvisors counting off by twos is not interesting. If you inject some behavior, emotion, relationship, or human reaction into a pattern, you have the beginnings of a game.

I agree with this clarification. A pattern is anything you do more than once. I would say a game is a specific dynamic between two people with a distinct rhythm. For example, the sadder I am, the happier you are and the happier you are, the sadder I am. We feed each other’s behavior consistently, but we can also heighten the game. It doesn’t matter what the context and the details are because that dynamic can be taken and applied to an analogous circumstance. Game has to do with behavior, but emotions and stakes (and point of view and philosophy) are certainly involved.

I’m sure different schools and generations have different answers, and I can’t wait to see the reblog thread continue. That said, my take is: game is the central funny thing that we heighten and explore. Pattern is, well, any pattern. Chris Farley’s motivational speaker sketch has a game of “bad motivational speaker.” But there are many patterns: the way Farley continually gets in people’s faces, the way he keeps saying “Van down by the river!”, etc., none of which ever take focus the way “bad motivational speaker” takes focus. In fact, those patterns serve the game.

How this distinction has been important and helpful to me: if I play a character in a scene, I want to create a cohesive series of patterns (think Farley adjusting his belt, hunching over when he talks, even the way he talks) that combine to create a recognizable, consistent character. But I still need that character to play the game, which is separate (that’s all the specific details that make him a bad motivational speaker).

You could take many of the same patterns (especially around Farley’s character) and play a different game (say, bad gym teacher, or bad bedtime storyteller). Or you could take the same game and play it with different patterns (he could be a bad motivational speaker in so many different ways).

Again, that’s just my interpretation, but it’s an interpretation that’s been practical and useful for me getting better at improv and generating sketches.

I.e. Patterns are the building blocks of a game?

"Even in a Harold, in a first-beat scene, approach it like this could be a 20-minute scene, this..."

Mon, 04 Feb 2013 00:13:00 -0800

“Even in a Harold, in a first-beat scene, approach it like this could be a 20-minute scene, this could be a monoscene. Don’t go for the out. Don’t try to end the scene; try to extend the life of the scene so it becomes more satisfying.”

- Johnny Meeks, my man

“Don’t you think you’re the greatest TV man of...

Fri, 25 Jan 2013 17:09:00 -0800

“Don’t you think you’re the greatest TV man of all time?”

Allen Funt wasn’t just the host of “Candid Camera,” but the guy who created it all the way back when it was still a radio program called “Candid Microphone.” The look on Ali’s face is absolutely heartbreaking when Funt says he hates “Candid Camera” because he thinks he wasted his life doing something unimportant.

“What’s more important than making people happy?”

And then Ali’s earnest response makes you realize that he didn’t call himself “the greatest ever” because he was a narcissist, but because he knew we all should think of ourselves as “the greatest ever” at doing whatever specific thing we do. Maybe that’s some “Sesame Street”-sounding shit, but are you gonna argue with Muhammad Ali?

“I can’t do nothing no greater than what I’ve done.”

So improvisers, be proud of all the dumb little things you do. Comedy is important. Even the greatest ever said so.

Toni is really making Mano’s hug look like the safest and...

Thu, 17 Jan 2013 18:13:47 -0800

Toni is really making Mano’s hug look like the safest and most comfortable place in the world to be right now.

This. Now.: On Theater Things

Tue, 15 Jan 2013 18:15:00 -0800

This. Now.: On Theater Things:

ferniecommaalex:

Maude actor auditions were this past weekend and Maude writing packets were due recently. Any time UCB has auditions, it can be a shitty, disappointing time for a lot of people.

I wrote a version of this post in response to a post on Facebook from someone who was disappointed and upset with the theater following this weekend’s auditions. I’ve redacted it a bit, as there’s no reason to include the person’s name here, and I do want to stress I do not bear that person any ill will. But I thought it might be something that was worth putting out here on Tumblr as well. So, here it is… slightly edited and still far too long.

I had a long conversation about this (the original post, not Fernie’s great response) this afternoon. Here are some of my thoughts.

In 2005, in LA, people who were still in 201 classes were put on UCB Harold teams. It’s not that way anymore. In 2012, more than 500 people auditioned for fewer than 20 spots. The popularity of UCB classes exploded to an insane degree in seven years. It sucks that being just a few years late to the party has that much of a difference on our chances of making a house team, but there’s no sense being angry at UCB for its success. Ultimately, the success of UCB is good for everyone, even if it increasingly limits the chance that most of us will get to be on a UCB team.

Part of the person in question’s original post said that teachers often stress the importance of living a life outside of improv in order to gain the knowledge and life experience to fuel improv, but paradoxically, the person claimed, we have to devote all our time to UCB in order to be accepted or welcomed or successful there. That claim doesn’t hold water.

We don’t get “credit” for how much we participate in the improv community. When Harold auditions were going on a few months ago, I had a list in my head of people I wanted to see on teams. They were people I watch all the time at indie shows, always doing great improv. Almost none of them made teams. Not only that, but I had never even heard of a lot of people who did make teams. And I had to check myself, because I realized that just because there are improvisers whom I don’t see at the weekly indie shows week after week, it doesn’t mean they’re not out there, doing improv and other things, being very talented. If they’re a better fit for a certain Harold team, they’ll make the team over someone who knows everyone in our improv community and who’s on eight indie teams and who does Room 101 twice a month, but who isn’t quite as good yet. And that’s how it should be. It can be easy to feel like if we get involved enough and show up enough and get to know everyone, we’re entitled to something. But we’re not.

Doing other things outside of improv is important for another reason, besides developing knowledge and life experience. It’s also important because if all we have in our lives is UCB, and we pour all our time and energy into it, it will make us bitter when we don’t get callbacks. We need other things in our lives to satisfy us. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket, and all that.

There are simply way too many people auditioning for too few spots for everyone to get in. The 96 percent of us who won’t make UCB house teams need to make peace with the fact that the indie shows — you know, the multiple shows that happen every night of the week, that didn’t exist a couple of years ago — are our places to play, and that will probably be that. If we’re doing improv because we love comedy, there are endless opportunities for us to do it, and that’s new, and we’re very lucky for it. If all we want is to “make it,” we’re probably going to be very disappointed.

Someone who is actually on a Maude team at UCB mentioned that he wished there were more new people on Maude Night after this year’s auditions, and that he hopes the theater will have more sketch in general in the future. Those are constructive criticisms. Still, there are opportunities to perform sketch that I don’t think are taken advantage of as much as they could be. I wonder how many Maude auditioners have put up sketches at Not Too Shabby. Some indie shows, like the aforementioned Room 101, will put up sketch shows if sketch teams submit. But how often do you see people do sketch at Room 101? (Answer: not very often.) I suspect that there were a lot of people auditioning for Maude Night who want to be on a UCB house team more than they actually want to do sketch comedy. If you didn’t get a callback and you’re tearing yourself up inside over it, think very hard and ask yourself why you want to be on a house team so badly. Because there’s nothing you can do on a house team that you can’t also do at shows all around town. Are you doing them?

I mean, I get it. We all want to be on a house team. Of course we do. It simply can’t happen, though. The vast majority of us will never be on a house team. But if you want to do improv, if you want to do sketch, then do it. Also do other things so that when improv lets you down, it won’t crush your spirit. And try to remember that not getting a callback doesn’t mean you were rejected; it just means someone else was accepted. That’s an important difference.

ucbcagematch: ucbcomingclean: I held on to unused...

Wed, 09 Jan 2013 19:20:00 -0800

ucbcagematch:

ucbcomingclean:

I held on to unused ballots from Cagematch so I could use them towards Heather & Miles at a future date.

Just to clarify, the number of votes are checked against how many people have been admitted in for the show. There has never been more ballots than people who attended the show. Extra measure will be taken in the future to make sure this doesn’t happen, what this really means is a longer Jam! at the end of Cagematch.

Of course this still mean this person is a giant piece of shit.

I once saw someone on Reddit post about how they vote for Heather and Miles every week, even if they truly think the opposing team did a better show, because they want Heather and Miles to keep going no matter what, or wanted them to break that Cagematch record or whatever. That’s very shitty, but I guess it’s like steroids in baseball. To a certain extent, we have to accept that there will always be those who cheat or try to to manipulate the outcome, and we can’t always catch it or stop it. (That Redditor isn’t even cheating, really — you can vote for whomever you wish and for whatever reasons — but it still kinda stinks.)

Cagematch it too informal to expect the voting process to be 100-percent honest. Most of us have seen teams win cage matches, UCB’s or otherwise, due to audience makeup first and actual show quality second. That’s just part of it. If someone is actually caught trying to manipulate the votes or game the system to cheat, they should definitely be banished from improv forever, but otherwise, I just kind of accept that it’s happening and try to have fun anyway. I don’t care for the idea of performing improv competitively in the first place, but if you’re gonna do it, you need to know going in that this is how it shakes out sometimes.

In other words, is anyone really that surprised by this?

The Improvisor's Improvisor: Improv Friendzone

Fri, 04 Jan 2013 13:39:00 -0800

The Improvisor's Improvisor: Improv Friendzone:

improvisorsimprovisor:

Sometimes improvisors—I know I have—feel like they’ve been “friendzoned” by the improv community. No one’s asking them to be on a team or do some project. The improvisor views the relationship with other improvisors not as intrinsically valuable in and of itself, but only as a source for a potential shows. And it’s the improvisors own behavior that’s making people not want to work with him, though the improvisor blames and gets angry at everyone else. It’s a shitty way to go about things.

I was definitely this annoying person for a little while, but I cut that shit and started keeping my eyes on my own paper instead of looking for validation from without. It also helped that the one team I was on back then went from being a source of anxiety to a source of joy after some changes. If you don’t like something, change it.

WTF With Marc MaronEpisode 344 - Jon Favreau I almost skipped...

Thu, 03 Jan 2013 21:40:00 -0800

WTF With Marc Maron
Episode 344 - Jon Favreau

I almost skipped this episode of “WTF,” but “Swingers” was such an important movie to me when I was younger that I finally got around to listening to the interview a few weeks after it was released.

It turns out that there’s a lot of great stuff for improvisers in this one.

Maybe you were aware of it, but I never knew that Jon Favreau did improv in Chicago in the late ’80s and early ’90s with a lot of people who are our heroes now. He worked with Del Close, and talks quite a bit about him and about improv in general. Really good stuff.

Transaction and Negotiation

Thu, 27 Dec 2012 12:05:00 -0800

In the interview with Nichols and May in Vanity Fair’s comedy issue, when discussing the “rules for improvisations” that the Compass Players used, Mike Nichols says,

“We figured out over a long time that there only were three kinds of scenes in the world—fights, seductions, and negotiations.”

This caught my attention because we’re taught early in improv classes to avoid fighting and transaction scenes. “Negotiations” hit my ears as being neighbors with “transactions,” but maybe there’s a difference, and maybe it’s the difference between a transaction scene that works and one that doesn’t.

Sean London wrote about his love for transaction scenes. I agree with him. It’s a myth that they don’t work in improv. I know it’s a myth because I’ve seen great transaction scenes. I saw Luka Jones and Jonny Svarzbein perform a 20-minute monoscene that was about Luka trying to buy a pair of pants from Jonny. It’s among the best improv scenes I’ve witnessed.

The reason new improv students are taught to avoid transaction, I think, is because they don’t yet have the tools or depth of understanding to know how to make a transaction scene work. A good transaction scene isn’t about the transaction; it’s about the characters. That’s why a negotiation has more body to it than a transaction.

A transaction is, “I want to buy this.” “That costs $10.” “OK, here’s $10.” “Thank you. Goodbye.” And in 101, that’s how a transaction scene tends to play out. Not too interesting. But if the characters find a way to negotiate rather than simply transact, there’s room to discover things about them, to find a game to play. The transaction is only the foundation upon which the scene is built, not the scene itself. To use an example from Sean’s post, a scene about a salesman isn’t funny, but a scene about a bad salesman is.

The same applies to a fighting scene. The scene will probably fail if it’s about the fight itself, about the thing the characters are fighting over. The scene should be about the characters. The fight is just the device used to explore character and find game. But green improvisers don’t usually have the tools to find that nuance, so they end up just bickering in scenes, and so are taught not to fight.

Look, just read Mick Napier’s book. It’s much better than me at explaining why the improv “rules” are bullshit. Also read that Nicholas and May interview. It’s great.