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Game Library: “Four Square Relationships”

Players explore one persona from four different relationship perspectives in this character-building exercise.

The Basics

A team of five is used with one player serving as the central protagonist and the remaining four waiting “offstage” at the primary compass points (north, south, east, and west). Each area and its corresponding player is assigned a specific type of bond: I tend to use familial, love, work, and spatial. Familial consists of blood bonds or similar such as a parent, sibling, or child; love refers to meaningful relationships that are chosen like a significant other, best friend, or crush; work refers to connections forged through employment or educational settings and includes fellow co-workers, classmates, or supervisors; and spatial bonds reflect those that are created through proximity, activities, and shared locations, such as a neighbor, fitness instructor, or supermarket clerk. Four vignettes are then performed, in no particular order, where the compass performers initiate and endow connections on the central protagonist.

Example

Player A serves as the protagonist. Player B (familial) begins a scene as A’s grandparent, welcoming A into their home for their monthly dinner and a game or two of cards. Player C (love) initiates the second vignette as A’s former significant other, returning one last box of discovered property at a favorite restaurant. Player D (work) continues as a struggling colleague who A has been instructed to mentor on the factory floor. Lastly, Player E (spatial) assumes the role of A’s hair stylist – and unofficial counselor – during a regular session. Each scene lasts several minutes before finding a natural button that is then accepted and edited by the new entering player.

The Focus

The featured player (A) should explore the contrasting facets of their character as revealed through four starkly different relationship energies. If participants are accustomed to Wearing Your (Their) Character Lightly, the experience should encourage a more grounded and multidimensional creation.

Traps and Tips

1.) Logistics. Taking on the role of the protagonist provides a powerful opportunity for growth. Whenever possible, I’ll publicly model the dynamic once in front of the group and then have smaller teams all privately explore the premise, ideally rotating everyone into the hot seat position. Watching too many iterations tends to put players in their heads and can introduce the pitfall of comparison: how can I make my choice even more original than my peers? Such a mindset can inadvertently encourage improvisers to dismiss obvious and grounded choices in lieu of needlessly original ones. Frankly, there are only so many options that belong in each category – spatial can particularly prove to be a stumper – and players shouldn’t think twice about exploring a previously seen relationship in a new and honest way. Unobserved rotations helpfully decrease these pressures.

2.) Tone. Beware of the bulletproof protagonist. If each new vignette merely facilitates another opportunity for cerebral commentary, then old habits will just remain firmly entrenched. It’s in the spirit of the exercise for the “compass” player to make the first few moves in order to establish their endowment intent. The protagonist should give a little generous space to accommodate this process, responding honestly and emotionally rather than immediately assigning buckshot “facts.” Once the most basic foundation has been laid, however, the scene should quickly settle into a more even-handed give and take. Compass players should enter with a rich gift to jumpstart this process but not feel the need to micromanage the outcome. Protagonists should embrace pitched chances to change or reveal heretofore unseen shades and energies.

3.) Material. The basics of this game can obviously be retooled to serve a variety of ends, but I find it useful to think of the resulting scenes as parts of one introductory act rather than an improvised play in totality. When approached with this later mentality, players will often rush to make connections and deploy callbacks. This, in turn, can overly and unintentionally favor the first vignette with subsequent characters feeling the need to keep that initial story building. When all four compass players view their offers as equal starting points, removing any pressure to construct one unified arc, the protagonist becomes much more well-rounded and diverse. By all means, incorporate or reference shelved ideas when they are pertinent but relieve yourself of the responsibility to connect all the dots in one linear narrative.

In Performance

Endowment Circle (here) provides a fast-paced and larger scale exercise that similarly invites character complexity. Subsequently, this earlier entry offers helpful workshopping tips and techniques for the current offering, too. Both exercises powerfully investigate the notion that people are not one thing but rather shift in subtle and not-so-subtle ways based on their current situations. Characters tend to feel and appear lightly worn when they lack this situational complexity.

While I’ve provided one grouping of relationship types, these bonds or energies can change to suit other training needs. If you’re struggling with caustic conflict, for example, each compass point could be assigned a contrasting positive energy to infuse into the relationship, such as pride, passion, loyalty, and tenderness. Or each scene could incorporate a distinct mantra, essence, or staging challenge…

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

Connected Concept: Wearing Your Character Lightly

“W” is for “Wearing Your Character Lightly”

If someone observes that you are Wearing Your Character Lightly, they are encouraging you to dig deeper and find more grounded truths in your work.

In Search of Snugger-Fitting Clothes…

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Related Entries: Drama, Love, Material, Vulnerability Antonyms: Culpability, Emotional Truth, Subtext Synonyms: Cartooning, Commenting

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

Connected Game: Four Square Relationships

Game Library: “Chatterbox”

I briefly mention this character-based game in my earlier Commandment #6 entry on Waffling here, which also looks at ways to restrain vocal effusiveness. If you’re working on taming this particular improv inner demon, consider exploring games such as Sentences and Speaking in Turn that actively restrict verbal offers. Chatterbox, on the other hand, provides a rare exception where carefully embracing your verbosity actually aids the scene.

The Basics

One player volunteers to play the “chatterbox” for the scene. While other characters engage in “normal” dialogue and action, the chatterbox’s speech acts are deliberately, inappropriately (and generally, comedically) voluminous.

Example

Two young children, Player A and B, begin the scene in a daycare sandbox. Their imaginative game is well underway as we join the action, each with an improvised stick in their hand to serve as their fictional character…

Player A: “I will rescue you from your castle prison!”

Player B: “Don’t get caught! The king is a meanie…”

Player A: “Fear not, I am brave…”

A teacher, Player C, enters with a new addition to the daycare center, Player D (the predetermined chatterbox).

Player C: “Can Emily join you both in the sandbox? She’s new.”

Player B: “Sure! Grab a stick. We’re playing castles.”

Player C: (warmly, as they leave) “Thank you, children. Play nicely now.”

Player B: “Have you played castles before?”

Player A: “It’s my turn to be the prince…”

Player D: “Ah, I see. I wasn’t aware that this sandbox was really a portal in time, sliding us all back into tired gender tropes and stereotypes. I am familiar with this general oeuvre, and the harm such narratives have imposed upon generations of the world’s youth, suggesting that we have no agency ourselves but must wait, instead, for a theoretical prince to save us from the very system he represents and from which he gains his power… I would like to be the horsey, please.”

Player B: (handing D a suitably horsey stick) “Here you go…”

Player A: “I’m outside the castle, by the moat.”

Player D: “Ah yes, the moat – that medieval castle fortification system that trapped its occupants as much as protected them. Much like the modern education system that we find ourselves unwittingly engaging in currently…”

Player A: “What kind of horse are you?”

Player D: “A wild stallion…”

Player A: “Will you help me rescue the king’s prisoner?”

Player B: “I’ll send down my long hair, like Rapunzel…”

The Focus

Be cautious of coding the chatterbox as crazy or unpleasantly inappropriate as such a move will usually shut down instead of heightening the game. Similarly, doggedly challenging the overtalker’s facts or content tends to ground their flights of fancy rather than empowering them to reach for new levels of ludicrousness. A lot of the appeal of this game is experiencing in real time what rambling content the uninterrupted stream of consciousness ultimately creates.

Traps and Tips

1.) Leave room. The chatterbox, by design, tends to vocally dominate the scene, especially if the tool isn’t used sparingly. It’s a helpful strategy to have this character enter the scene a little later for this reason as this gives the other players some stage time to establish the CROW and their own character deals. Such an introduction provides the scenic norm that the chatterbox can then disrupt and overturn. Once the chatterbox has been established, concentrate on the scenic give and take. Players should strive to pitch focus and fun launches to the chatterbox who should return the favor by not completely driving the scene without a sense of their scene partners’ needs, too. Not every response needs to be a paragraph, even if it is frequently so.

2.) Avoid blocking. Each chatterbox diatribe serves essentially as a built-in stalling device with their innate function as an unbridled and expansive musing. As is true of any waffling or wimping choice, you’re just a short walk from outright blocking territory. While it’s the chatterbox’s stated function to verbosely comment upon or overly contextualize the topics at hand, strive to also enable continued play and discovery. Player D could easily shut down the castle game completely with their societal critique, but by also then agreeing to join the activity they are serving the greater goal of the scene. This can be a hard balance to strike, but if you’re the chatterbox and you find your teammates scrambling to find one new scenic avenue after another, then explore a less overtly blocking tack.

3.) Find the POV. This character device can provide an overlay for almost any improv scene or serve as an impetus to craft a unique characterization. Often, the basic language and technique has much in common with an expert persona with their love of specificity, jargon, and historicity (whether or not any of it is even remotely truthful!) If you’re playing with this device for the first time, such an expert approach serves well, but also look for points of view or character qualities that can maximize comedic juxtapositions and support playful surprises. I thoroughly enjoy having a young child as the mouthpiece for this reason as it tends to add to the curve of absurdity in helpful ways. A meandering professor, for example, is probably a little more realistic in an unhelpful way than a student, staff member, or classroom visitor taking on the disrupter role.

In Performance

If all of your characters are versions of a chatterbox without even trying, you might want to reevaluate your ingrained verbal habits. But as a scenic novelty played with precision and a healthy dose of irony or satire, this characterization technique can provide a great deal of delight. And unlike accidental waffling that will stifle the contributions of your teammates, here its deliberate application invites the whole team to work together towards a common end.

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

Connected Concept: Waffling

“W” is for “Waffling”

To Waffle is to exert the might of your words clumsily and without finesse.

Types of Wafflers That Might Show Up In Your Scene Work If You’re Not Particularly Careful About Using Your Words Deliberately and Concisely…

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Related Entries: Bulldozing, Commandment #6, Over-Originality, Postponing, Wimping Antonyms: Action, Physicality Synonyms: Commenting, Talking Heads

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

Connected Game: Chatterbox

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

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

Connected Game: Alphabet Game