Game Library: “Text/Subtext”

Characters shifting quickly from Text to Subtext at a caller’s whim describes the essence of this game that invites players to unabashedly explore what lurks under their dialogue.

The Basics

An offstage caller facilitates the action variously announcing “text” and “subtext.” When text is the governing dynamic, characters engage in typical improvised dialogue. However, when “subtext” is cued, characters start to speak their previously unvoiced motives, desires, and thoughts. While characters speak subtext, their partners should hear and react as if everyday text was still being uttered. The caller continues to move the players and characters between these two communicative states for the duration of the scene.

Example

Player A (the parent) and Player B (their teenage child) sit outside the high school counselor’s office awaiting their not-so-pleasant appointment. B exudes nervousness, while A struggles to maintain the appearance of calm.

Caller: “Begin with text.”

Player A: “… And you’ve told me everything I need to know? I don’t want to be surprised when we’re in there with the high school counselor.”

Player B: “How many times do I need to tell you that I’m not sure what this is about myself?”

Player A: “They don’t ask to meet parents – in the middle of a work day, no less – if it isn’t serious, Megan.”

Player B: “I know this feels like a big deal. You’ve told me that enough since you got the email.”

Caller: “Subtext”

Player A: (retaining an irritable vibe even though the content is now more vulnerable) “I just had high hopes for you. You’re not like your siblings. You could make something of yourself – if you tried.”

Player B: (responding with the previously slightly snarky tone) “I hate that look in your eye like I’ve disappointed you. Whatever’s waiting for me behind that door can’t be worse than that look.”

Player A: “I feel like I’ve failed you somehow…”

Caller: “Text”

Player A: “… he always gives me a hard time when I have to take a half shift.”

Player B: “I know, okay. I’m sorry having me is such a hassle…”

The Focus

There’s a rare opportunity in this dynamic to explore rich subtext in such a way that it goes from a subtle undercurrent one moment to your overt utterances the next. Fully exploit the emotional journey such shifts enable.

Traps and Tips

1.) Honor the basics. The general rules of onstage secrets apply in this scenario. Improvisers should listen closely to the revelations of their teammates but not unduly comment upon or carelessly explode these discoveries as their characters. It can be tempting to grab at that cool dynamic your partner just introduced but give all the ingredients sufficient time to boil in the scenic pot before serving them up otherwise you’ll end up presenting something half-baked rather than patiently matured. It’s also extremely gaggy to just parrot back something you heard voiced privately. You’ll get a laugh, but it’ll likely prevent the scene from building to anything riveting.

2.) Explore the nuances. This particular game dynamic poses the worthy challenge of maintaining the façade of any established relationships while also potentially speaking subtext that has a starkly contrasting energy. To aid in this mind-numbing endeavor, strive to introduce and set your base moods quickly. If Player A hits the ground running with a frustrated petulance, it’ll be markedly easier to maintain this tone even as the subtext reveals something notably different. Exploring the distance between this primary textual mood and the ever-changing colors of the subtext provides much of the richness of the game. On a simpler technical note, take your time introducing new characters. If the stage is crowded, it’s less likely that clear POVs will be effectively established before you hit the first “switch.”

3.) Complicate the dialogue. The sojourns into subtextual musings clearly offer the chance to skillfully develop contrasts and contradictions. But don’t lose sight of the fact that the dialogue portions of the scene are now informed by this material as well. Keep your subtext active during the regular dialogue (just as you need to keep the dialogue tonality active during the subtextual sections). As the audience now has the context to read into your words and gestures, use this knowledge to your advantage. Both characters at our school office have revealed vulnerability as part of their inner monologues, for example, so it would be a shame not to see some subtle evidence of this in the scene proper.

In Performance

If you tend to gravitate towards more angry or argumentative hues, Text/Subtext offers a great vehicle for finding love and more culpability in your work. The same holds true for improvisers who default into commenting or cartooning patterns where text and Subtext are essentially one and the same. The physical mechanics of the game can take a little time to effectively incorporate, but the experience quickly reveals if you typically have little of interest operating under the surface of your dialogue.

Other games that explore similar subtextual terrain include Angel and Devil, Conscience, Inner Monosong (Monologue), and Stop! Think! (Find then in the Game Library here.) These formats can serve as helpful skill building steps on the road to the current game in question. You can also apply your calls to one character at a time – rather than the onstage cast as a whole – which can provide an interesting variation as you now can see text and subtext directly playing against each other.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Subtext

“S” is for “Subtext”

The meaning beneath the line of dialogue. Dialogue without Subtext is like pizza without toppings.

Getting to the Bottom of Subtext…

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Related Entries: Ambiguity, Objective, Secrets, Specificity Antonyms: Cartooning Synonyms: Meaning

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Text/Subtext

Game Library: “Pan Left, Pan Right”

With its “four scenes in one” structure, crisp and quick details are a must in Pan Left, Pan Right.

The Basics

Each member of a four-person team obtains a different suggestion to inspire their work, such as an occupation, location, relationship, or theme. Players form a square (if this configuration wasn’t used for the ask-for elicitation) with two players clearly assuming the downstage positions. These players are considered “onstage” with the two players behind them waiting “offstage.” The downstage right position (typically) is considered the pole position, and the premise assigned to the improviser in this spot governs the current action. Throughout the game, a caller rotates the players around one spot by announcing “Pan left,” which moves the players one clockwise position, or “Pan right,” which turns the action counterclockwise. (Directions are from the audience’s perspective.) After each shift, the new scene in the pole position begins (or resumes) with the two corresponding players now in the downstage positions. Each vignette continues its own arc – potentially with small or significant leaps in time – until the next shift is announced.

Example

Players A through D receive the following offers, respectively: a sailor, operating theatre, aunties, and paranoia. After the suggestions have been repeated, Players A and B are randomly selected to go first with A standing in the downstage right position and B stationed to their left.

Player A: “Look at that amazing view! No one as far as the eye can see!”

Player B: (a little the worse for wear) “I didn’t realize we were going so far out to sea…”

Player A: “You’ll find your sea legs soon enough. Now hand me the compass…”

Player B: “I think I dropped it…”

Caller: (with a clear directorial point) “Pan left”

The team rotates one position in a clockwise direction so that now B and C are downstage, and B’s “operating theatre” premise activates.

Player C: (stepping back from the table) “Would you like to close?”

Player B: “I’ve been waiting a year for you to ask me that very question!”

Player C: “And I’ve been waiting a year for you to be ready. Is that a yes?”

Player B: “Yes! Sutures. I won’t let you down.”

Player C: “I have faith in you…”

Caller: “Pan left…”

The Focus

Strong choices, actively listening, and landing your gifts quickly and resolutely are all a must for this fast-moving scenic collage.

Traps and Tips

1.) The preparation. The setup for this four-faced game is more complex than many but also offers opportunities to model the playfulness that is to come. I strongly prefer establishing the player square prior to the game so that each player can stand in the pole position when they get their own ask-for. This helps to hard wire the conceit of when each scene goes live for the audience and players alike. The caller can also model the panning instructions to scroll through the players one spot each time. I find it’s helpful to use the audience’s right (counterclockwise) and left (clockwise) when determining your directions. If your company prefers, there’s no reason not to use the downstage left position as the pivotal scene-defining spot; my current venues just tend to default to the right. What is important is consistency as there’s enough going on in the game without everyone becoming unsure whose scene is currently in play. I like getting a four-letter word and then having each player using the next letter to inspire their ask-for: I used “soap” to help direct my own example above. It’s also smart to review the four suggestions, with accompanying gestures and player shifts cued from the caller. If your caller then gets a small random number to click through to get to a starting combination, you’ve had ample chances for everyone to get the mechanics straight.

2.) The conducting. There are many improv games where the caller is a rather decorative embellishment. This is not one of those games! Much of the success and build of the scene rests on the caller’s creative shoulders. If you’re assuming this responsibility, make sure you’re actively involved in the set-up phase of the game if this isn’t already your venue norm. Large sweeping arm gestures alongside the various “Pan left” and “Pan right” calls are crucial for setting and maintaining the requisite traffic patterns. (A little playful confusion can add to the joy but if the players are consistently unsure where to go, the scenes won’t amount to much.) If the company is really struggling or as a courtesy when the vignettes are being established, the caller can also add gentle content reminders to the calls: “Pan left to the aunties.” The caller also serves as the editor-in-chief, nudging the struggling scene to the wings or giving the crackling scene that extra few seconds to build. Especially if you apply the twist (below), it’s crucial to identify strong phrases or buttons that can facilitate quick segues, exchanges, or runs. Make sure one scene doesn’t accidentally get short shrift: this is more likely to occur if you frequently interchange lefts and rights without being conscious as to the missing combination stuck in the upstage position.

3.) The scene work. My examples for this game library are typically on the briefer side, but it’s not uncommon for a vignette to only get four or five lines before it’s edited, particularly when the tempo of the game increases which it has a tendency to do during its climactic closing run. Strangers, ill-defined locations, and passive tactics all problematically sap energy and time from the format. With four scenes competing on some level for stage time, vague-prov generally doesn’t fare well, especially if other vignettes quickly land their deal. Context provides so much of the challenge and entertainment, so you’ll want to establish your basic CROW as soon as feasibly possible, while also being mindful that your choices and energy aren’t too unhelpfully similar to others already seen. Adopting a “starting in the middle” strategy serves well: you might only get three or four appearances in any given character combination, so you don’t want all this time to be spent setting up or alluding to an exciting action that never has time to actually materialize. It’s also considerate to remember that the caller is actively seeking dynamic moments to edit, and you can generously assist in this pursuit, especially if you have added…

4.) The twist. You can take the risk of the transitions up a notch by adding a verbal freeze tag dynamic to the base form. This iteration requires each new scene to launch with a repetition of the last spoken line from the prior vignette. To use the scenario above, the first exchange was edited on the phrase “I think I dropped it,” so this would now need to be the first line of the subsequent operating theatre scene, and “I have faith in you…” would be repeated to start the aunties premise. Once you’ve played the game a few times with this device it can feel a bit sparse or rudimentary without it. There is so much delight to be had from seeing the same line recontextualized in back-to-back scenes or even pass through several in a well-executed fast-paced run. A little specific ambiguity can help a lot in facilitating these dynamics: if every line in the surgery scene has the word “scalpel” in it, you’re probably making it needlessly tough on the caller and the next scene. Justifying the occasional extremely scene-specific word or term in a radically different context certainly adds an element of impressiveness but will bog down new scenes that haven’t yet found their footing. Subsequently, I’d recommend at least initially offering up some editing options from the stage that are more user-friendly so that the next scene can quickly pick up some steam.

In Performance

There’s a certain improv magic when all four scenes build and riff off each other with effortless finesse. Trust the caller whose outside eye can recognize and shape games that may not be as easily recognized from within the heat of the action. And avoid languishing in the transitions: literally the act of leaping from one premise to another fuels the spontaneous fire. (On this point, I’ve seen some troupes add – frequently large – numbers to the calls, such as “Pan Right 12 times.” I’m not a fan of this gimmick as it degrades the snappy transitions between scenes, which is one of my favorite aspects of the format.)

While I’ve seen and played this game with just three improvisers and corresponding vignettes in the mix, the fourth player really adds exponential joy and challenge, in my opinion. Playing with more can also work, although it can prove difficult to remember everyone’s premise if the cast gets too large.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Tony Firriolo
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Strangers

“S” is for “Strangers”

The conventional wisdom when it comes to Strangers is to avoid them whenever you can (on the improv stage just as in real life). By definition, strangers don’t tend to bring vital backstory or relationship details to the story.

When Is a Stranger Not a Stranger…?

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Related Entries: Character, CROW, Curve Ball, Endowing, Relationship, Secrets Antonyms: Specificity Synonyms: Vagueness, Wimping

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Pan Left, Pan Right

Game Library: “Relay Entrances and Exits”

This fast-paced improv drill rehearses the basic but critical skill of entering and exiting the stage with purpose and gumption. If you, or an improviser you love, suffer from Sticky Feet, this jaunty exercise should provide the solvent you need.

The Basics

Players number off to establish a set order. (I’m using letters below just for consistency.) The first player (A) begins an activity in a provided location. After a moment, Player B makes an energized and justified entrance with an accompanying line or two of dialogue. Upon receiving this offer, Player A immediately responds with a similarly supported exit. A moment later, Player C enters with heightened vim and vigor, providing a line of their own which, in turn, cues Player B’s justified retreat. Players continue to briskly come and go until everyone has had at least one moment in the scene with Player A returning to complete the sequence alongside the last assigned improviser.

Example

Player A begins on all fours weeding the much-loved garden in their family front yard with a small trowel and bucket.

Player B: (arriving with fanfare) “I’m home early from college, mum. You’ve got me for the whole month!”

Player A: (exiting after giving her child a warm hug) “What a sight for my sore eyes! Let me get your bedroom ready!”

Player C: (entering) “I clocked your doing 45 in a 30 zone. I’m going to need some identification.”

Player B: (exiting back into the street) “My apologies, officer – I was so excited to get home. Let me get my wallet out of my car, and we can clear this matter up.”

Player D: (slinking into the yard) “So, look who’s come back to the neighborhood all these years and promises later…”

Player C: (feigning a call on the radio and walking offstage) “What was that, headquarters? A robbery in progress? I’m on the case…”

The Focus

You’re unlikely to create sharply etched and nuanced storylines with this game, but that’s not its intended purpose. Relish the challenge of making each and every arrival and departure strong, clear, and fully embodied.

Traps and Tips

1.) Breathe. The tempo of this exercise can inadvertently work against its own goals as characters hurriedly come and go. While the premise is certainly a little absurd, don’t allow your choices to fall into this category as well. Take the challenge seriously even if the content is lighthearted. You’re ultimately unlikely to get anything of much value out of the experience if it merely becomes a gag-delivery system. Don’t rush through or approximate your own choices. Give each entrance and exit its full weight and treat it as if it were the moment of the greater scene. It’s also a trap to just get louder or bigger or angrier than your predecessor: actively seek new energies and rationales (or previous tones in new ways) that feel honest and connected.

2.) Build. Each new character should seek brevity in their dialogue but don’t overlook the value of some good old-fashioned CROW. Your arrival will take on greater meaning and significance if everyone clearly knows your identity and relationship to the current onstage character. The drive and challenge decreases if the exercise morphs into actual vignettes: this would move you into La Ronde territory, which is admittedly fine territory to explore but serves another end. (You can read about this long-form here.) If you’re able to keep the larger environment alive and growing, that’s a great additional finesse. Perhaps someone trips over Player A’s trowel on their way out, for example. And don’t ignore the potential of reincorporating the evolving stage geography. Who is or could be in the house with the college-aged student’s mum? What neighborhood features have been established stage left and right? Did the police officer leave their patrol car in view on the street?

3.) Accept. The urgency of the exercise can, unfortunately, result in players slipping into old or bad habits. Waiting in the line to go on almost invites planning, and so it can be easy to push that clever idea you came up with offstage a minute ago into the narrative flow regardless of what actually just happened. So be extra wary of clumsily blocking, pimping, or erasing the reality of your scene partner. Similarly, don’t just do that thing that you hope will impress, get a laugh, or “win” (whatever that might mean to you). The game feels markedly more exciting when each new entrance truly utilizes what has gone before, so don’t neglect the improv basics in a misplaced effort to avoid the risk of truly being responsive and in the moment. Troubled waters await when players start rejecting obvious choices for fear they’re not being clever enough.

4.) Land. For an additional finesse, make sure each character truly lands in the scene. While the game can quickly feel like a series of transitory Canadian Crosses – and, in fact, this is largely the case – characters should not enter with the foreknowledge that they will then be immediately departing. Assuming this reality tends to make players approximate their choices, which can add to an overall unhelpful hectic quality. Rather, each character should arrive and ground themselves with the – albeit unfounded – expectation that they are now serving as the much-anticipated star of the scene. This small adjustment in owning the space can make a surprisingly large difference in how the game plays out.

In Performance

This whimsical drill always reminds me of the power and potential of bold entrances and exits. This critical element of our improvising play doesn’t always get the attention it needs, but little of quality can transpire without the measured and deliberate shuffling of characters on and off the stage.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Tony Firriolo
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Sticky Feet

“S” is for “Sticky Feet”

Sticky Feet provides a vivid way of describing an improviser inclination to get stuck onstage. The joy of participation can prove so enticing that players find themselves pulled onto the stage only to discover that they are not particularly needed. And then they stay on stage… for a long time.

Warning Signs You’re About to Get Stuck…

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Related Entries: Entrances, Exits, Sharing Focus, Stage Picture Antonyms: Commitment, Energy Synonyms: Passivity

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Relay Entrances and Exits

Game Library: “High Card”

You’ll need a traditional deck of playing cards for this experiential game that examines how Status influences our social interactions and relationships.

The Basics

The facilitator selects a large public setting or scenario, and players each privately draw a card that will determine their status: an ace representing the highest status and a two representing the lowest.

Phase One

Players should look at their own card and then stow it safely away so that no one else can see it. For the duration of the all-play scene, they should endeavor to subtly and realistically explore and exert this status when communicating with others.

Phase Two

A new setting is obtained, and the cards are shuffled and redistributed. Now players cannot look at their own card but must display it on their person in such a way that others can see this assigned status. During this second exploration, players should now endow and bestow the appropriate status configurations on those they meet, all-the-while assessing and accepting their own place in the assigned pecking order.

Example

Some chairs are scattered throughout the space to resemble the basic configuration of a high school cafeteria. Players engage in everyday activities and conversations with preassigned statuses and self-assigned characters.

The Focus

If your ensemble is unfamiliar or unpracticed when it comes to status work it may prove helpful to initially explore this dynamic in a more extreme scenario, such as a Renaissance city square complete with the highest royalty and lowest beggar. Generally, however, the process and overall experience benefit from a closer-to-home setting that allows for the examination and deployment of more subtle status moves and adjustments.

Traps and Tips

1.) Play. Keep your focus on your scene partners. As Keith Johnstone reminds us, status is something we do, so don’t strut around trying to be your status. Rather, engage in real conversations, explore honest needs, and try to achieve simple goals while letting your known or suspected status infuse your interactions. Also remember that status and social rank or class are not synonymous: the cafeteria cook may reign supreme over all their colleagues, especially if the scene takes place in their domain, or be a social outcast rejected by students and coworkers alike (or anything between these stark poles.)

2.) Assess. While you play, be sure to assess the subtle and not-so-subtle signals you are receiving from others. An “ace’ is usually easy to spot and to adjust your behavior accordingly: smaller differences between you and your fellow improvisers’ cards – an eight and nine, for example – require a much more nuanced understanding and application of the core concepts. Settled status relationships may also be thrown into turmoil with the simple act of a new character arrival or departure. Strive to maintain the social façade at all times – if you pull back the curtain and start flagrantly guessing the hierarchy or naming status maneuvers, you’ll create little of value.

3.) Apply. Particularly when playing the second iteration, take the risk of being changed by the way others are treating you. Don’t settle into a stance or belief and then coast for the remainder of the experiment. Test your theories, adjust your tactics, and then test again. Can you get away with sitting at the proverbial or literal “cool kids’ table?” If you initially failed in this pursuit, can you use a different tactic and try again? Even if your initial assessment of your spot in the pecking order was correct, this doesn’t mean your character isn’t trying to change their lot in life.

4.) Challenge. It is very easy to fall into character clichés, especially if you find yourself at one of the extreme ends of the status spectrum. High status characters needn’t be aloof, demanding, or loud-mouthed: low status personae don’t have to be servile, agreeable, or wallflowers. If you’re encountering this particular exercise again (or concept in general), raise the stakes by exploring a character whose status portrayal doesn’t neatly fall into widely held tropes or stereotypes. How is an unctuous “king” perceived or a self-assured “three”? What happens when you starkly contrast your assigned status with your character’s known role, wealth, or occupation?

5.) Debrief. At the conclusion of each phase, I instruct players to silently form a line from perceived lowest to highest status. (In the second phase, I’ll tell improvisers to remove and pocket their card thirty seconds or so before wrapping up the game in this way so it’s not just a simple matter at looking at others’ cards in the lineup.) There’s certainly delight if the ensemble is largely correct in their order, but regardless of their overall “success,” take a few minutes to discuss the experience. Why did players correctly or incorrectly place themselves where they did? What signals did they receive or send that supported this decision? How is their understanding of status enriched and deepened? Furthermore, it’s eye-opening to reflect on the distinction between asserting your status (phase one) and being completely dependent on others to know your place (phase two).

In Performance

I describe exercises as experiential when they don’t assume an audience. Subsequently, there’s no need to worry about avoiding split focus, crafting linearity, or building to a unified scenic climax. In fact, such macro improv concerns can subvert the gentler exchanges that are the bedrock of the game. When we take these skills onto a traditional or not-so-traditional stage, however, it’s important to remember that our audiences are assessing and assigning status positions based on the action just as the players did in their own private explorations. In these theatricalized situations, focus breaches and contests will very much influence how status flows and is perceived by your patrons.

The Game Library is booming with approximately 200 detailed game descriptions and performance tips. You can access it here.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Scott Cook
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Status

“S” is for “Status”

The sometimes hidden and sometimes glaringly obvious power dynamics that inform interpersonal and societal interactions.

Some Common Status Misconceptions…

This is just a taste of this entry/concept. Go here for more information.

Related Entries: Character, Relationship Antonyms: Class, Rank, Station Synonyms: Power

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: High Card

Game Library: “Escalating Scene”

As a theatricalized embodiment of the “butterfly effect,” Escalating Scene raises the Stakes to typically catastrophic levels.

The Basics

When played as a skills-building exercise I tend to have teams self-select a basic who, what, and where (Spolin style) as well as a minor action and major event that are completely unrelated – such as running out of toothpaste and a global stock market crash. In a performance setting, these last two ingredients could be gathered from the audience with the other components being discovered in the opening moments. A scene begins in which we quickly see the first smaller occurrence. Players must then construct a chain of connected events that finally (hopefully) culminates in the second monumental event. Each subsequent step in the rising action should clearly be caused by the former and elevate the overall stakes.

Example

Players are given a “hang nail” and a “statewide electrical blackout” as the two random actions. (I’m outlining several potential steps sans detailed dialogue just to give a sense of the arc, but each vignette should be fully embodied and fleshed out.)

Step one: A frazzled overworked single parent, Player A, prepares breakfast for their teenage children who quickly run out the door to school. As Player A clears away the dishes, they inadvertently give themselves a hang nail.

Step two: Too busy to tend to their wound, Player A jumps in their car and picks up their carpooling co-worker who notes how distracted Player A is this morning.

Step three: With bad traffic looming, and the hang nail pain increasing, Player A takes their eyes off the road for a second and gets into a fender bender.

Step four: An irate driver jumps out of the nudged car and Player A does the same. A heated exchange ensues as traffic builds up around them.

Step five: A’s passenger joins the fray and notices a truck hurtling towards them on the bridge, unable to stop. The quarreling duo just manages to leap aside as the truck pushes both cars over the traffic bridge and is now suspended in air with the driver in peril.

Step six: The truck continues to shift weight as the bystanders now form a human chain to rescue the driver, with Player A in the front and having to stomach the pain of their hang nail as the driver is brought to safety.

Step seven: With a thunderous explosion the truck finally falls off the overpass bridge onto a series of high voltage electrical lines. The city, and presumably then the state, is plunged into darkness. Blackout.

The Focus

Stay in the moment and polish each new contribution as it arrives. Increased energy and presence are more likely to get you to the finish line that solipsistic and fearful planning in the wings.

Traps and Tips

1.) Consider your goal. When it comes to determining your final scenic destination, natural disasters or resolutely non-human events prove problematic. Putting aside the fact that many weather catastrophes these days are likely caused by humanity’s neglect of the environment, it’s difficult to make this causal connection from the first simple action in a three- or four-minute scene. The exception to this advice would be natural events that commonly have very human ignitions, such as a forest fire or dam bursting. The final event can also be a wonderful occurrence rather than a disaster, such as performing an act of heroism or finally attaining a difficult lifelong dream.

2.) Consider your tactic. The hang nail example above ended up following one character through multiple beats of their day and resulted in them personally having a hand (finger) in the concluding tragedy. There is an advantage to such an approach in that you have one player tracking and ultimately connecting all of the dots. The major alternative consists of using a style more akin to a Pass-Off or Follow the Leaver frame. Here the focus baton tends to pass from one character to the next with no-one serving as the protagonist for a protracted period of time. So, while Player A suffered from the hang nail, their emotion or actions would then spill out onto one of their children or the ridesharing coworker who would then, in turn, similarly rile the next character in the chain. This version offers additional challenges but also potentially more finesseful rewards.

3.) Consider your steps. As the scene begins, the looming result can feel a little impossible or oppressive so it’s tempting to want to leap “there” in as few steps as possible. Lean in the opposite improvisational direction and fuel the small choice currently onstage rather than smother it by blatantly replacing it with that element that you feel needs to get into the story arc now. Player A could have plugged in a faulty appliance in their kitchen and caused the blackout in two moves, but that would be unlikely to provide an engaging journey. When I use the workshop model of this game in my class, I deliberately don’t ask to know the target choice as I’m much more interested in discovering the next steps along with the players: the final outcome doesn’t really matter, especially if the arc and stakes continued to rise in an exciting way. When your audience is expecting a particular climax, I believe this attitude still has currency as a great unforeseen ending is still a great unforeseen ending!

4.) Consider your roles. One of the many unique facets of this scenic dynamic is that it typically requires a larger than average cast of characters. Especially if you’re playing the game in a team setting, be ready to turn right back around the second you leave the stage to join the action as someone entirely new. Family members in step one above may need to immediately recycle into carpool colleagues in the next beat, or fellow gridlocked drivers a moment later. Energized story arcs also tend to scroll through multiple locations in quick succession, so you need to be ready to support these transitions as well, moving or embodying furniture and environmental forces as needed. If you’re playing in the Pass-Off style, this is particularly the case for the departing prior baton carrier who will likely need to return much sooner than they anticipate.

In Performance

Fight the manic beast that can lurk just below the surface of this game that tends to feed off the panic instilled by the knowledge of a particular desired outcome looming over the horizon. Enjoy and elevate the process, explore where the current offers can take you, and gently raise the amplitude of the stakes trusting that this energy alone will take you somewhere exciting and worthwhile.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: James Berkley
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Stakes

“S” is for “Stakes”

What our characters will gain (or lose) if they are successful (or unsuccessful).

Raising the Stakes…

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Related Entries: Drama, Objective, Urgency Antonyms: Passivity Synonyms: Heighten

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Escalating Scene