ImprovDr.com

Game Library: “Neighbors”

Depending on the age and comfort level of your players, Neighbors can provide a lighthearted “ice breaker” or function as an opportunity for more Vulnerable sharing and ensemble building alongside the fun. This exercise requires moving quickly across the circle so may not be suitable if troupe members have mobility issues or the thought of bumping into each other a little causes stress. Identity Circle provides an alternate in such cases, although this option (you can read about here) tends to get more intense in terms of its time and content.

The Basics

Players form a circle with one volunteer (A) starting in the center. If you’re playing in a larger group, it’s often helpful for everyone to place a shoe or similar as a clear indicator of each spot on the outer rim. Player A’s goal is to gain a spot on the outside of the circle. To achieve this end, they ask other random players, “Do you like your neighbors?” The recipient of this question has two possible responses. If they answer “No,” then the players to their immediate left and right must quickly exchange places, thus leaving a brief opening for the center player to occupy a spot on the perimeter. If the questioned player replies “Yes…,” then they must complete the phrase “…but I don’t like people who…” The end of the sentence should provide a category that the speaker does not embody themselves. Examples might include: “… but I don’t like people who… have traveled overseas” or “… have siblings” or “… are good at mathematics.” Once the category has been announced, anyone who satisfies this condition (has traveled internationally, includes siblings in their family, or considers themselves to be good at math…) must now quickly leave their current spot and find a new vacated home. If players have an option, this new spot shouldn’t be immediately to their left or right but rather across the circle. The central player similarly tries to occupy a new home before the circle is reformed. If they are successful, the new player without a spot becomes “in.” Regardless of the outcome, this center player now continues asking fellow teammates, “Do you like your neighbors?”

The Focus

As players become more comfortable with each other, they may become inclined to share more personal facts and feelings. With younger improvisers, remaining on the level of “…I don’t like people wearing blue” might actually prove advisable. Ether way, the game shouldn’t be used to reify cliques or potentially ostracize or isolate company members, and if in doubt, players needn’t disclose (or be pressured to disclose) anything that makes them uncomfortable on any level whatsoever, so discourage any answer “policing.”

Traps and Tips

1.) Why mark the various spots in the circle with shoes or similar? Every now and then, a response will prove so universal that the vast majority of the circle will need to change spots. The pertinent speaker should never move (as they shouldn’t belong to the category they provide) but if essentially everyone else is moving, it quickly becomes impossible to ascertain what was and what wasn’t a legitimate spot on the periphery. If you’re outdoors, a cone or similar could serve this function, and if removing shoes doesn’t sound like your jam, I’ve also just marked each spot with a piece of paper or book bag.

2.) What happens if just one player (or no one at all) belongs to the named category? These are both reasonably rare occurrences, but it’s good to have a clear strategy in place. If only one player moves, you can use this as an opportunity for them to quickly “tell the story” behind this factoid or feeling. You can use this same device for the initial respondent if no one moves as this means they have stumbled into a rare fact that unifies the entire ensemble. I’ll typically have the player who offered the category become “in” now, largely so that the exercise doesn’t become skewed by friends trying to come up with such specific responses that will only apply to one teammate: “Yes, but I don’t like anyone whose middle name is Alfred…” To maintain the playful spirit of the game, these moments to share the story behind the fact should be completely optional and free from coercion.

3.) How do you balance competitiveness with ensemble building? Some player demographics are more prone to lean into the “winning” aspect of the game than others. When played with too much gusto, the exercise can devolve into a full-contact sport as players almost wrestle to secure a new home. This energy can quickly discourage full participation, especially from those more inclined to introversion or with larger personal bubbles. Promote playfulness but stress that everyone should feel safe and welcome to participate on all levels. The exercise will wilt if it really becomes about beating others rather than learning about and connecting to your fellow players. And there’s something powerful about modeling and embracing “losing” with good cheer and generosity as well.

4.) What does wimping generally look like in this exercise? There’s unquestionably a risk in answering the repeated question with a “Yes, but…” as this now requires the speaker to make a specific choice that will probably reveal something a little personal. While the launching phrase is in the form of the paradigmatic wimp, “Yes, but…” responses are the strongest acceptances in this particular exercise as they facilitate action and connections. On the contrary, a long string of “Nos” that just trigger movement from your immediately adjacent teammates quickly becomes a wimping choice. When this answer becomes the norm rather than an unexpected twist, it relieves the speaker from contributing in a more meaningful way.

In Performance

I particularly enjoy the combination of physical play and more earnest sharing that this exercise affords. Unlike Identity Circle – that can easily expand into a more significant event – Neighbors also retains its usefulness when deployed as a shorter warm-up.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2023 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Vulnerability

“V” is for “Vulnerability”

The opposite of bulletproof armor onstage (and perhaps its antidote) consists of nurtured Vulnerability.

The Glorious Risks of Vulnerability…

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Related Entries: Change, Culpability, Emotional Truth, Postmortem Antonyms: Bulletproof, Winning Synonyms: Losing

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2023 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Neighbors

Game Library: “Moving Bodies”

An unabashed crowd pleaser, Moving Bodies uses audience Volunteers to get the improvisers into and out of playful trouble.

The Basics

Two audience members are each assigned an improviser who serves as their life-sized puppet. While players provide their own dialogue, these volunteer puppeteers are responsible for providing all the stage movement and gestures for the scene. These physical choices must, in turn, be fully incorporated and justified by the improvising characters. Scenes typically begin with just two characters, but if a third or more are needed, puppeteers should leave their original charge to move the other characters on the stage.

Example

Players A and B are joined onstage by Volunteers A and B who stand behind them. The premise of a wedding is proffered. The lights rise on a nervous groom (A) and their best man (B) moments before the ceremony is slated to begin. Player A sits hunched in a chair.

Player A: “I hate that I’m being so clichéd … “

Volunteer B has lifted B’s arm, who is now pointing at their friend, the groom.

Player B: “You… you get to feel whatever you’re feeling today. “

Volunteer A starts gently rocking A’s body back and forth in the chair.

Player A: (almost chanting) “I know this is what I want. I know this is what I want…”

Volunteer B raises both of B’s arms to the heavens.

Player B: “Then let’s make this happen. I’m coming over. All it takes is putting one of those cold feet in front of the other.”

Volunteer B, receiving the cue, slowly starts to move one of B’s feet, then the other, to bring them closer to the seated groom. Volunteer A awkwardly lurches one of A’s feet forward…

The Focus

As I’ve disclosed in my consideration of maintaining freshness in our work. I have a personally complex relationship with this short-form mainstay, but there’s no denying it’s a fan favorite. You’ll get strong laughs if you commit to the absurdity of the central premise, but there’s no need to sell your artistic soul as an improviser in the process. My suggestions below seek to unlock more untapped potentials than the simpler gimmicks inherently present when you approach the scene purely as a parlor game.

Traps and Tips

1.) Rehearse. Whenever we bring audience members to the stage, it’s important to set up clear expectations, both in terms of how to appropriately play the game but also regarding how to keep the improvisers safe. At my current home venue, we’ve developed pretty standard banter that usually talks the volunteers through making their puppets wave and then walk. This is usually followed by a lighthearted warning not to bend the improvisers in ways nature didn’t intend and not to have players hit each other or walk off the steep lip of the stage. This all seems like good common sense, but getting everyone on the same page before the scene proper commences is wise. Improvisers will be touched in this scene, so assign your puppeteers accordingly with care.

2.) Model. A little trick I’ve found useful is not starting the scene physically neutral but rather placing yourself in a dynamic pose to begin. This tactic gives you a little initial agency to “start in the middle” or pitch a clear first move while also giving your puppeteer some context from which to respond. When the game has a true blank start, with the improvising characters just standing passively, it can prove challenging not to resort to rather bland exchanges in an effort to encourage movement. It’s likely some of this coaching will be required at some point, but if you’ve already made strides towards establishing vibrant CROW elements then at least you won’t be stuck in an improv limbo awaiting some sense of definition.

3.) Justify. Whether inexplicable, inspirational, or mundane, it’s the improvisers’ task to make sense of all their puppeteers’ choices. It’s rare for such physical offers to come at the perfect pace, and the scene will frequently struggle under an avalanche of excess or in a barren desert of absence. When improvisers feel inclined to immediately verbally justify every small move (or the lack of any small move), the scene can quickly become overwhelmed with overtalking. Yes, you shouldn’t ignore a volunteer’s offer, but justifications can take many forms: from a look or raised eyebrow to a subtextual adjustment or emotional response. Make sure you’re still sharing focus with your scene partners generously and not accidentally engaging in uninterrupted justification monologues.

4.) Connect. It’s really easy for this game to devolve into a yelling fest with characters barking over each other in an effort to make sense of their physical realities or to instruct their puppeteers to make helpful adjustments. Perhaps it’s somewhat inevitable that this chaos is where many scenes will end up, but mayhem is a guaranteed outcome if this is where you begin. Yes, seek a fruitful connection with your volunteer, but this shouldn’t be at the expense of forging strong relationships between the characters. A grounded scene with rich characters pursuing honest goals only heightens the comedic contrast while also introducing the possibility that you might craft a story of some earnest significance.

In Performance

Neglect generous focus gives and takes at your own risk. When players lose sight of more traditional sharing techniques in a misguided effort to verbally justify even the smallest gesture the moment it happens, there’s little likelihood that the scene will transcend an albeit amusing cacophony. If this has become your venue norm, selecting just one volunteer to move all the puppets can assist a little in artistically shaping the clutter.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: James Berkley
© 2023 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Volunteers

“V” is for “Volunteers”

From interactive street theatre and sociodramatic modalities, to short-form competitive games and monologue-inspired long-forms, many improvisational practices invite or require the use of audience Volunteers, those who bravely offer up themselves or their stories to enable spontaneous play.

Can I Have a Volunteer…?

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Related Entries: Audience, Looking Good, Shining Antonyms: Ensemble Synonyms: Amateur, Guest

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2023 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Moving Bodies

Game Library: “Alphabet Game”

Accepting bold choices, delivering each fearless gift, honoring instinctual justifications, keeping letters mindfully near or purposefully – quickly – rigidly sequenced, that’s unequivocally vital when x, y, z… come around. This is Alphabet Game, a short-form classic designed to test your Verbal Skills. (Scroll down if you’re looking for the soupy variation!)

The Basics

Players perform a scene in which the first word of each line of dialogue must begin with the next successive letter of the alphabet (not every word as painfully demonstrated in my belabored introduction!)

Example

A scene is based on the premise of a “builder.” Players A and B begin…

Player A: (pushing on a wheelbarrow) “Another beautiful day – we’re making great progress!”

Player B: (surveying the progress) “Believe it! We’ll have finished our own prairie home in no time at this rate.”

Player A: “Crib will look perfect in this little corner…”

Player B: (surprised) “…Don’t think we’ve had that conversation yet…”

An awkward but light pause as they both build for a moment. Player A looks to B lovingly…

Player A: “Every house is made a home with children…”

Player B: (now a little rattled) “First one crib, now plural children: how big a family are we talking about here…?”

The Focus

Verbal restrictions challenge players to craft a well-balanced scene in spite of the distraction of sequentially moving through the alphabet. However, when potentially brain-stumping handles are played with a fearless spirit, these restrictions can actually create as much rich content as they thwart.

Traps and Tips

1.) Alternate dialogue. A standard “rule” for Alphabet Game is for alternating players to take on the challenge of justifying the next required letter. If one player rattles off several sentences in a row starting with the pertinent letters – especially as an expression of panic or in an effort to shine – the game quickly feels lopsided or just unclear. Rigorously change speakers for each letter. In addition to sharing the work and rewards of the scene, this also gives your partner a second to have the next needed letter front of mind for when it’s their turn. Avoiding an overcrowded stage further helps in this regard as with only two or three characters activated at a time, it’s easier to determine who will be talking next.

2.) Bold each step. If you’ll forgive the oxymoron, it’s important to exaggerate or emphasize your featured alphabetized word just a little. Habitual “ums,” “wells,” or other introductory utterances prior to the officially needed first word will just confuse your audience and teammates while reducing the effectiveness of the scenic enterprise as a whole. Make sure the word that corresponds with the required letter unequivocally launches your speech act. And consider giving this word a little extra emboldened punch: perhaps it’s the operative or most important word in your sentence or laced with extra subtext or passion. If you throw away the featured word or obfuscate it with a messy preamble, the alphabet train often derails quickly.

3.) Condense your exchanges. Just as scrolling through multiple letters in a row as a singular character tends to muddy the waters, it can prove similarly challenging if players are routinely voluminous in their offers. If it’s been forty seconds since your “sentence” started, the chances are quite high that everyone will forget your first letter by the time you finally hit that final punctuation. There are obviously exceptions: if you enjoy adding style – Shakespeare or similar – into the mix, a monologue or soliloquy, especially at a climactic moment, certainly honors your source material. I don’t tend to impose a rule that only one sentence can be uttered for each letter as, frankly, that’ll likely cause unhelpful confusion as players try to parse each other’s intended punctuation with little added value to the scene. But if you always take a paragraph to your partners’ concise five-word sentences, then consider breaking up your preferred pattern if only for the sake of variety.

4.) Don’t just stand there. Don’t let the prescribed verbal game pull you exclusively into your head as an improviser. Yes, it’s almost unavoidable that there will be times of struggle – often attributed to a forgotten letter or an unsuccessful search for the right word – and yet it’s part of the performance value to relish these struggles a little. After all, if the game is too seamless, the audience may not fully appreciate the skill they have just witnessed. But also make sure you’re not just improvising from the “neck up.” Create a dynamic world complete with interesting scenic elements and potentials for activity and action. In this manner, when a silence hits, your character can fill this time with justified movement and energy while the audience can simultaneously enjoy the sight of the improviser squirming underneath. Which reminds me that you also shouldn’t be afraid of a little strategic silence in general. When players just immediately bark out their dialogue because they have the next needed letter, the scene can start to feel oddly inhuman.

In Performance

There is some debate – at least in my own improv circles – about whether to always start the scene with the letter “A,” or if it facilitates stronger work to elicit a random letter to serve as the impetus for the first line of dialogue and then pick up the sequence from there. When you start with “A,” you’re setting up a climax of “X,” “Y,” and “Z.” (Although some companies will then return to “A” as needed if there’s still a little more scene required to reach a satisfying button.) The rationale for and against the “A” start hinges on whether or not repeatedly facing this climactic language challenge seems appealing or routinely bears fruit. There is no question that “X” and “Z” have very few options, and if every Alphabet Game ends in “Zipper’s down…” then shaking it up will hopefully rescue you from the pit of desperate bits. But, if players remain playfully present and open to new discoveries, I find this seemingly insurmountable hurdle a glorious pinnacle for the scene.

Also avoid “x-treme,” ”x-cited,” or “x-tra” approaches to that formidable “X” position as these often won’t fly with a more discerning audience. It’s probably worth your while to at least glance at the half page of available options in a dictionary if you play this game with any frequency!

And if you’re up for an even greater challenge, try moving through the alphabet backward, starting with Z instead!

Or, as explored in a recent R&D Show, you can mix it up as Alphabet Soup. Here, the caller nominates a new, random letter after each line of dialogue that must be used to begin the next verbal offer. The advice above remains largely the same, although it’s particularly important to provide strong and resolute endings when speaking (to leave the caller sufficient room to announce the next letter), and generally the caller should only offer each letter once (writing the alphabet out on a sheet beforehand and crossing out calls as you go is a must). If you like the foundational language device but find the predictability of the sequencing working against you or plunging you into old habits, Alphabet Soup serves as a nice, simple adjustment to reintroduce the risk.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Tony Firriolo
© 2023/2026 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Verbal Skills
The R&D Show Expansion Pack

“V” is for “Verbal Skills”

How we use (or don’t use) the full range and potential of our voices on the improv stage.

V Verbal V’s

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Related Entries: Experts, Obvious, Physicality, Rhyme, Talking Heads Antonyms: Waffling, Wimping Synonyms: Vocabulary

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2023 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Alphabet Game

Game Library: “Starting in the Middle”

Perhaps more of a scenic approach than a short-form game in its own right, Starting in the Middle enables energized launches that enhance Urgency and stakes.

The Basics

When workshopped as a skill building exercise, players quickly self-determine their CROW ingredients before bringing these elements to life on stage. As a more general tool, players can elect this style of scenic initiation as an overlay in response to an audience suggestion or in conjunction with the needs of another game structure. In both cases, as the title reflects, when the lights come up on the scene, the audience experiences an action that is already “in progress.”

Example

Players respond to the prompt of “white water rafting.” All four team members are discovered in the throes of a tumultuous descent as the scene begins…

Player A: (panicked) “I just lost my paddle overboard too!”

Player B: (losing the battle to remain calm) “This was just meant to be a leisurely adventure down the river!”

Player A: “We have to get to the river bank…”

Player C: (paddling ferociously) “Says the guy who just lost his paddle. What exactly are you going to do, Luca?!”

Player D: “Has anyone seen my backpack with my inhaler in it…?”

The Focus

In addition to starting in the middle of the scene, make sure you are also starting in the middle of the rising action and providing the stage with the corresponding level of energy and emotion. This doesn’t have to be as dramatic as the example above, but if your scene depicts starting in the middle of a bland or apathetic routine – such as nonchalantly sitting on the couch watching a movie, or uneventfully doing a load of laundry – you’re not really fully capitalizing on the intended dynamic.

Traps and Tips

1.) Jump in. Typically, this device benefits from assuming that the ignition is in the scenic rear view mirror. Beginning a scene a few steps into the balance or status quo doesn’t gain you much more than perhaps a little novelty. The balance, by definition, is the unbroken ritual of the characters’ lives, so a few steps into the balance will still feel ordinary and likely under energized. When the ignition has already occurred, on the other hand, the scene should already feel dynamic and in motion. This is also a great device for immediately raising the stakes and urgency by avoiding passive considerations of what might happen in the scene if you ever manage to actually get to it.

2.) Keep moving. There can be a tendency to want to pause the action so as to explain the given circumstances. While it’s important to provide the necessary context, thread any pertinent information into the rising action whenever you can. If you’ve set some of the foundational choices privately as a team before the scene start, it is critical to remember that the audience isn’t privy to these decisions, so you will want to provide clarity when it’s needed but stalling the action to do so may cause as much harm as good. And don’t forget that a lot can be definitively established amidst the panicked yells of our rafters.

3.) Then backfill. That being said, with few exceptions when ambiguity is the game, scenes gain strength from strong CROW decisions. These may or may not be completely known prior to the lights rising, so a healthy dose of justifying may be in order. Our rafters may not know their exact relationships to each other or the particular location of the river initially, but establishing or revealing these factors adds detail and potential. Exposition can prove challenging to activate in any theatrical mode; in this game, it necessarily becomes part of the innate fabric of the scene. Part of the entertainment for everyone is learning how the rafters got into this particular form of peril as that very selfsame peril expands.

In Performance

A gentle and luxurious scene start where players slowly determine who they are and what they’re doing can prove captivating in adept hands, but as a standard or repeated pattern such a launch can also require a great deal of patience from your audience. The urgency of starting in the middle (and its associated risk and vibrancy) offers a welcome respite from relentless expository meanderings. In particular, if you find yourself often starting scenes planning for or discussing a future event – and perhaps then not actually getting to the activity in question – this technique will become your new improv best friend. So jump in, keep moving, and then backfill.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Tony Firriolo
© 2023 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Urgency

“U” is for “Urgency”

Urgency, alongside stakes, provides an all-purpose tool to make our actions more intense and theatrical. While elevated stakes influence the consequences of failing or succeeding, urgency fuels the action by considering the question of “why now?” What factors are currently in play that make this particular choice or action critical in this given moment?

Intensifying the Urgency…

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Related Entries: Drama, Stakes Antonyms: Postponing Synonyms: Repercussions

Connected Game: Starting in the Middle

Game Library: “One-Voice Expert”

The mechanics of One-Voice Expert make it uniquely prone to Upstaging tendencies as a desire to forge a strong connection to your scene partner can easily result in closing yourself off from your audience if you’re not vigilant.

The Basics

An expert is interviewed on a given subject by a teammate. While the expert has one voice, they have two (or more) heads and must sound out all of their answers in unison.

Example

The topic at hand is “photography.” Player A serves as the host while B and C wrap an arm around each other’s waists to form one expert persona.

Player A: “Welcome back to Picture That! I’ve been trying to secure our next guest for many years now; I couldn’t be more excited to finally have you join me here with our studio audience today!”

Players B/C: (forming their words together) “Thaaank you, Graaace. I’m a biiiig faaaan of the show…”

Player A: “You’re too kind, Ellie. If I may call you that…?”

Players B/C: (sounding out their response) “Of course. If I caaaan call yoooou Grace!?”

Player A: “I want to dive right into your new beautiful collection, if I may…”

Players B/C: (together) “Please doooo. It’s beeeen a real laaaabor of love and I’m reeeeally proud of these photographs of eeeeveryday ciiitizens…”

The Focus

Enjoy the inherent language struggles while also fighting to justify joyful slips as you build a story and engaging relationship.

Traps and Tips

1.) Lead. If you’re not hyper aware, it’s easy for the multiple-headed expert to become so polite and deferring that every word becomes a painful exercise in belabored negotiation. Sometimes, you just need to leap into the fray and strongly offer up an initial sound, word, or short phrase. If none of the expert heads are willing to initiate any choice, then it becomes awfully difficult to generate steam and content. Once you’ve established your connection, the goal is to resemble natural speech rhythms and cadences as best you can. Similarly, as the interviewer, don’t be afraid to steer the story when it’s needed. If the expert is struggling to create content, pitch a simpler question; if an answer is particularly opaque or circuitous, justify or reiterate its essence (or invite the expert to do so).

2.) Follow. While the individual expert voices should happily take the reins for a moment or two, the resulting dialogue shouldn’t clearly be the brainchild of one speaker for any length of time. The dynamic quickly feels wonky – and therefore much less risky and exciting – when the audience can clearly see one player consistently leading the way. So, just as you shouldn’t be too leery to take the focus for a few seconds, you should be equally as willing to immediately give the lead when you sense your partner wants it. In theory, these exchanges should become so smooth that leading and following become almost synonymous. As the host, be similarly aware that you don’t dominate as it’s easy to become comparatively voluminous without the expert’s speaking restriction. Endeavor to keep your guest as featured as possible.

3.) Commit. Verbal restriction games tend to make players neglect all the other scenic components that can help round out the performance in delightful ways. If you’re playing with two players as the expert, it’s typical for improvisers to use their outer arms as if they belonged to the cumulative expert. Find opportunities to support your character and story with bold gestures and physical offers. As the scene begins, it’s also understandable (and actually smart) to stand largely in profile toe-to-toe as this allows you to really see each other’s mouths which greatly assists in the task of figuring out the words and energy. Such a stance left unchecked, however, can shut out the audience. Cheating out not only improves visibility but also raises the chances of missteps, which (frankly) is a large part of the excitement.

4.) Shape. If you’re primarily using this game as a charm piece, you can certainly get a few minutes of entertainment just out of the built-in communicative struggle of the multi-headed expert. But, like most short-form handles, the scene can be much more than just the stated conceit. Shape a strong point of view for the expert and the host, explore the subtleties of this central relationship, and follow the potentials of the story threads as they emerge. Sure, the interviewer can just make their guest leap through some linguistic hoops, but when the gimmick also serves a well-crafted narrative, the ultimate payoff will prove so much more satisfying. If you find yourself blindly scrolling through “bits,” you’re only scratching the surface of what this game can offer.

In Performance

One-voice characters are tough, and I love and fear them in equal measure! Here, this persona is housed in an interview dynamic, but once you’re comfortable with the requisite techniques, there’s no reason not to set them free into other scenarios, too. If you seek control of the improv stage, one-voice work reminds you of the destructiveness of bulldozing and the vibrancy of spontaneously going with the flow.

Connected Concept: Upstaging

“U” is for “Upstaging”

Upstaging refers to a performer’s inability to remain “open” or seen by the audience, which, in turn, can create the additional challenge of making dialogue difficult to hear.

What’s Up with That Staging…?

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Related Entries: Acting, Levels, Physicality, Sharing Focus, Stage Picture Antonyms: Being Seen, Staying Open Synonyms: Closing Yourself Off

Connected Game: One-Voice Expert