“A” is for “Again”

“Storytelling is frightening (and exhilarating), because it involves a journey into the unknown.  Abandon the struggle to tell stories and improvised comedy will be just another form of gutless light entertainment (gravy without meat), and your best players will drift away in search of something more stimulating than the endless repetition of the same games”

Keith Johnstone, Impro for Storytellers. New York: Routledge, 1999. p.75

Definition

Predictability can quickly become the enemy of spontaneity. As we strive to accept the obvious choices emerging in our path, it can become easy to fall into unproductive (or wimping) ruts where the same inputs invariably result in the same (or only marginally adjusted) outputs. If you’re fortunate enough to perform regularly – especially in the short-form tradition as Johnstone references above – these unhelpful performance ruts can become deep indeed. Why forge new connections when your audience (seemingly) enjoys the familiar and comfortable?

Generally speaking, routines are often most helpful and dynamic in our storytelling when they are broken or interrupted. After all, a day that just stumbles along as it has always stumbled along won’t usually develop into anything particularly stage worthy. While I stand by this perennial advice, there are situations in which digging into the routine itself can actually help your scene and character work. Let me introduce you to the latent power of one simple word that you’ve already guessed as it’s the title of this entry: Again. Used shrewdly, this technique can milk new nourishment from an otherwise dry situation.

Example

Player A: (setting down their briefcase beside the kitchen door) “I know. I know, honey. I’m late for dinner. Work ran late.”

Player B: “Again.”

OR

Player C: (cracking open the bedroom door and whispering) “Sorry that I missed your recital tonight, sweetie. I couldn’t get away from the office.”

Player D: “Again.”

OR

Player E: (stepping into the seedy restaurant backroom with a nervous look) “Look, Tony, I don’t think I can come up with this week’s payment.”

Player F: “Again.”

OR

Player G: (frantically going through their backpack atop the library table) “I’ve got my notes here somewhere. I didn’t quite finish my part of the assignment, though.”

Player H: “Again.”

Let Me Say It Again…

1.) Add history. When an offer is made that isn’t a part of a more significant pattern, it can tend to create a need for heavy (and perhaps cumbersome) worldbuilding. In these cases, a simple “Again” points at a previous move and uses it to define a key facet of a relationship or dynamic. Rather than A’s late entrance adding little of value, now it shows a trend which helps to define the couple’s status quo. Admittedly, if Player A is never late home, their initiation also provides a powerful move in the form of a tilt. In many ways, the key is to avoid the generic and anticlimactic middle ground where A’s tardiness is occasional and, therefore, largely inconsequential.

2.) Add emotion. If the emotional temperature of the scene is feeling a little tepid, a well-placed “Again” can intensify the passions at play. A huge reaction on D’s part if their parent is late just this one time could certainly do the trick but may also strike the audience as potentially insincere or inorganic. (I love leaping to a big emotion, but if you want it to ring true, it helps if its reacting to something noteworthy.) A parent who is always or routinely late to everything their child holds dear, opens up powerful (and probably real) pathways to emotional honesty and connection where the responding player may not have to look hard to find a heartfelt response.

3.) Add stakes. Similarly, an expertly delivered “Again” can propel your scene out of stasis and deep (high?) into the rising action. Player E’s inability to meet F’s demands for the umpteenth time automatically makes the scenes vastly more important and likely to sizzle. Such a move also invites both techniques above as now E has endowed interesting backstory between the pair (has F been reluctantly letting the debt slide until now, and if so, why?), while encouraging both performers to dig into emotional truths (what has specifically happened to E that has prevented them from gathering this week’s payment, and how has that influenced their greater story arc and development?) And increased stakes will also invariably…

4.) Add consequences. A cleverly timed “Again” can also push a scene into bold next moves. With the added stakes of joining a pattern already in motion, the consequences are also likely to heighten, if not explode. Player H might have been inclined to give their classmate a break if this was a first strike against them, but if the poor behavior is now well established, H becomes empowered to release the scenic throttle. Perhaps they’ve already communicated with the professor and G has been removed from the group (and issued a failing grade), or an elaborate intervention has been set up, or Player H has arranged for Player G’s parents to join the study group. Regardless of the specific choice, there is the potential for something more dynamic than mere complaining and discussing.

Final Thought

One simple word. Endless opportunities.

A brief warning: if “Again” is thrown around but never really heard, accepted, or felt (with a good old fashioned gut check), then there is very little chance it will provide much help at all.

Related Entries: Freshness, Obvious, Stakes Antonyms: Breaking Routines Synonyms: Importance, Routines

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2026 David Charles/ImprovDr

Improv Dictionary Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Audience Café”

My next Game Library project is pulling from my latest experiments with the R&D Show where we take old improv games (and invent some new ones) and view them through a particular theme or lens. This addition comes from our recent December offering focused on “Beginnings” and provides a nice way to incorporate audience volunteers in a dubbing-styled dynamic.

The Basics

Two audience members (typically) volunteer to perform in the scene with two resident improvisers providing their voices from the side of the stage, ideally on microphones. The scene often utilizes the premise of a first date at a café, with the dubbed (audience) characters accepting the verbal offers from their offstage counterparts.

Example

Volunteers A and B are placed on chairs center stage while Players C and D sit on the edge of the stage.

Player C: “Sorry, I’m so nervous. I probably shouldn’t say that.”

Volunteer A (ideally) does their best to mouth the words and act accordingly.

Player D: “This is a very nice restaurant, with a fantastic view…”

Volunteer B (ideally) gestures accordingly.

The Focus

Part charm offensive, part potential shiv fest, the experienced improvisers should always strive to make their volunteer partners look and feel good, even if some playful mischief unfolds along the way.

Traps and Tips

1.) Honor the conventions. Overtalking and poor give and take are a perennial issue with dubbing games as the excitement and need for strong communication within and between each character pair can prove challenging. If your audience isn’t familiar with this device, taking twenty seconds to quickly model Player C talking for Volunteer A (and then D for B) while they move their lips can give everyone a bit more of a fighting chance. And sometimes a host can offer a few sidecoaching nudges, too, if the whole affair is rolling terribly off the scenic tracks (even if a little of this struggle is part of the delight). A fuller consideration of dubbing in general can be found here.

2.) Honor the story. It’s really tempting to immediately leap into schtick as the dubbers, but the long-term health and success of the scene will invariably suffer if every move becomes solely concerned with grabbing at a laugh. Let the story build gradually and organically. Remember that the dubbers need to also honor the scenic choices being provided by the dubbed. You’re less likely to pick up on subtle body language or energies if dialogue merely races from one punchline to the next. Verbal offers that reflect what is already happening onstage can easily provide much of the fuel for the scene. And if you don’t invest in the story fundamentals, you’ll often arrive at a juncture with no clear next step.

3.) Honor the volunteers. I’m of the mind that we have rather important responsibilities when we bring our audience onto the stage to play with us. If they’re immediately made to feel uncomfortable or are pimped into icky or inappropriate situations, the whole theatre can start to feel less welcoming and safe. Yes, the game invites misbehavior, but this can feel so much more delightful when it bubbles up from the volunteers rather than feels imposed upon them. So, if you’re a resident improviser facilitating the scene, look to make you guests the heroes or stars, and watch carefully for signals from them regarding their joy and abandon.

The R&D Twist

It’s the norm to place the audience in the dubbed positions as this keeps more of the scenic control in the hands of the resident improvisers. Our R&D twist was to invert that arrangement by allowing audience members to put the company through the ringer. I’d like a few more cracks at it in this orientation to better understand all the nuances, but it was fun to explore clear focus gives and takes as the dubbed player while unlocking the creativity of our guests which is a little more hampered (by design) in the usual configuration.

New to ImprovDr.com or the Game Library? You can find the ever-expanding collection of games, exercises, and warm-ups here.

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

The R&D Show Expansion Pack

“A” is for “Advice”

“…there is no attempt at solutions in Playback, for solutions reflect judgment and advice-giving.”

Jonathan Fox, Acts of Service. Spontaneity, Commitment, Tradition in the Nonscripted
Theatre. New Paltz, NY: Tusitala Publishing, 1994. p.50

Definition

The Improv Dictionary has now been on the shelves for over a year, and one of the negatives of moving this resource into print is that other concepts have invariably bubbled up that seem worthy of inclusion in that taxonomy. Who knows if I’ll ever commit to the arduous task of a second edition; but regardless, I’ve enjoyed these improv deep dives and hope other improvisers and instructors will find some value in my musings too. So, here’s the first entry in what will be likely be a loose series of infrequent additions to my dictionary in progress as I loiter around a various letter for a month or so.

Advice on the improv stage strikes me as having a great deal in common with transactional and teaching scenes. Yes, these dynamics are certainly a part of life and a part of the theatrical canon from which so many of us gain inspiration. I would posit that advice and confidant scenes are probably much more prevalent in scripted theatre than these other two devices as protagonists often utilize sounding boards to determine their paths forward. When this dialogue becomes improvised, however, this dynamic can tend to decrease energy and momentum rather than launch your characters onward, especially if players approach advice giving in less-than-interesting ways. And, as Boal notes, advice has a potentially complex relationship with judgment and, in turn, can steer players towards solutions which are invariably much less interesting than deepening and complicating problems and challenges.

Example

Players A and B sit in their dorm room as A nervously looks at a text chain on their phone.

Player A: “I just don’t know what I should do. I think they like me…”

Player B: (kindly) “Let me see the message. You two would make a great couple. We’ll figure out together what you should do next…”

A talking scene ensues…

Advice for Advisers and Confidants

While it can feel pleasant to give good advice onstage, this will often lead you into the rather uninteresting territory of “nice people doing nice things.” Instead, consider…

1.) Give bad advice. This sounds a little tongue-in-cheek, but you’ll be surprised by the creative power of this approach. Good advice can tend to methodically (and anticlimactically) weigh all options, and suggest a measured, or even glacial, progression toward your eventual outcome. Bad advice, contrarily, can promote risk-taking and offer delightfully unpredictable excursions from the status quo. Depending on your preferred form and style, you might opt for subtly bad advice (kitchen sink realism) or wildly terrible counseling (absurd comedies or highly stylized pieces). But if you’re going to give advice, offering up something more provocative than “Try to sit beside them in your next class” can launch you into exciting new story constellations. “You should drop all your other classes and just follow them to theirs…”

2.) Give selfish advice. One of the major traps of advice scenes, especially in long-form pieces that consist of a reasonably limited set of characters, is that the advice giver often becomes little more than a mouthpiece for their partner’s journey. Perhaps the advisee takes the advice (in which case we have already largely discussed the likely outcome, thus robbing it of its excitement and surprise) or the advice is ignored (in which case the advising scene can feel like it could have been edited from the dramatic arc entirely if you’re not careful). When the adviser has some skin in the game, the heat of the resulting scene typically improves, as does the likelihood that both characters will emerge with something dynamic going on. If Player B is in love with Player A (or the currently unnamed Player C), then any subsequent advice will crackle with an ulterior motive. “No, I think you’re reading into the message. They’ve definitely put you in the friend zone.”

3.) Give active advice. Whether the advice is good, bad, or selfish, err on the side of offering active next steps. Perhaps the only thing less helpful than an advice scene is a whole string of advice or talking heads scenes in a row because a central character isn’t actively pursuing their objective in visible and meaningful ways. So, if in doubt, when you’re wearing the adviser’s hat, nudge your scene partner towards doing something rather than remaining in stasis or the status quo. Using the example above, ignoring the possibilities of the potentially amorous text will probably keep everyone in the current routine. Viewing the text as an invitation to (even gently) shake up the world as we know it will chisel new steps in what will hopefully become a bracing rising action. “You’ve been looking at that text for days now. Give me your phone. I’m texting back…”

4.) Give advice actively. In my experience, the challenge of advice scenes becomes further compounded by the over appearance of some instruction that is the equivalent of “Let’s sit down and talk about this.” Now you’re advice scene is also a talking heads scene with all the energy-sapping curses that typically come with that. It may take you a while to figure out your character’s deal, or a proportionate move that is the right kind of “bad” or “selfish” advice. In the meantime, at least try to keep the scene physically engaged. Sure, the scene could likely work in the confines of the pair’s dorm room, but if you take that dialogue and add some activity or movement, then there’s a better chance that you might organically discover something a little out of the ordinary. Players A and B examining the text as they both walk across campus to their next class, for example, opens up so many more opportunities. “No need to text back. They’re walking towards us right now. I’m going to say something…”

Final Thought

Advice often becomes a clever (or not-so-clever) device for postponing if you’re not careful – whether you’re postponing the next big choice as a character or as an improviser.

Related Entries: Talking Heads, Teaching Scene, Telling, Transaction Scene Antonyms: Action, Showing Synonyms: Postponing, Waffling

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

Improv Dictionary Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Zip, Zap, Zop”

First a confession: I learnt this game in New Zealand from a Canadian lineage, and whether it was a conscious choice on the part of my first instructors, or just our slippery kiwi vowels, I’ve been playing it as Zip, Zap, Zup ever since and fighting a probably rather senseless battle to keep up that language while teaching in the United States. But after a quick search, I’m finding that apparently, I’m in a minority of possibly one. So, while it breaks my heart a little, I am reluctantly shifting to the overwhelmingly majority position, and offer you instead, Zip, Zap, Zop (even if that last word still sounds a little jarring to me)!

The Basics

Players form a circle…

Variation One – The Classic: Improvisers form a repeating sequence with the first player sending a “Zip” to another random player across the circle with a suitably clear hand motion and eye contact, who then sends a “Zap” to a new random teammate, who responds with a “Zop” to a third player who then, in turn, starts the sequence all over again. If a mistake is made, the ensemble applauds, and the game begins again.

Player A: (across the circle to F) “Zip.”

Player F: (across the circle to C) “Zap.”

Player C: (across the circle to K) “Zop.”

Player K: (across the circle to B) “Zip…”

Variation Two – The Double: Two sequences are now sent around the circle, although it’s crucial that both sequences stay connected and move on the same word. To begin, Player A uses both hands to gesture to and identify two different players and says “Zip.” These two new improvisers now send separate “Zaps” around the circle in the same rhythm so that two different performers have been clearly identified. These two selected players then continue the process by sending around individual “Zops” on the same beat. In the event that one person receives both tags at the same time (hence the importance of keeping both sequences in the same tempo), they repeat the starting motion of separating the threads by pointing to two new players and announcing the next word in the sequence. When a mistake is made, the ensemble applauds, and the game begins again.

Player A: (across the circle to F and G) “Zip.”

Players F and G: (across the circle to C and E, at the same time) “Zap.”

Player C and E: (across the circle to K and L, at the same time) “Zop.”

Player K and L: (across the circle…) “Zip…”

Variation Three – Trinities: This is a little complicated to explain in print, but the core of the game remains the same (as version one) in that sequences or trinities (such as Zip, Zap, Zop) are passed around and across the circle. In this advanced edition of the game, however, the key position is what I refer to as the “Zip” position as this player has several choices. First, they can defer to the base titular trinity and offer up a “Zip” with a clear gesture to another teammate who should then continue the pattern with the expected “Zap…” Or, the “Zip” player can offer up the first item of a new and previously undefined trinity. For example, they might introduce “Red,” and now the next two players get to set the other elements of the triad which might become “White” and “Blue” (colors), or “Browsed” and “Perused” (things one might do to a book), or “Flushed” and “Shy” (synonyms of embarrassed…). The key is that the first offer doesn’t mandate what the list might evolve into when other heads become involved in the process. Or, this “Zip” player can re-introduce a previously established unique trinity (such as those listed above) which then requires following players to add the existing elements already in play. Once this pattern of three has been completed, the new improviser in the “Zip” position now has the power to revisit old patterns or start a new one. When a mistake is made, the ensemble applauds, all the “original” trinities die (excluding the basic Zip, Zap, Zop), and the game begins again.

Player A: (across the circle to F) “Zip.”

Player F: (across the circle to C) “Zap.”

Player C: (across the circle to K) “Zop.”

Player K: (now in the “Zip” position, across the circle to B) “Car.”

Player B: (across the circle to D) “Bicycle.”

Player D: (across the circle to A) “Scooter.”

Player A: (now in the “Zip” position, across the circle to K) “Car…”

The Focus

Accept, exist in the moment, and keep the energy flowing and building.

Traps and Tips

1.) For all three variations. Don’t let the desire to get the game “right” interfere with or supersede the collaborative joy of the enterprise. In all three definitions, I’ve noted the importance of delighting in the fumbles by applauding when the game breaks down. (As you advance through the three versions, the likelihood of this happening increases exponentially!) It may prove helpful to emphasize good game etiquette during these restarts – such as making clear partner choices and passing the words with strong focus and articulation – but keep the mood light and playful. A simple gift of this game is that it provides a means for rehearsing how to embrace and accept mistakes with a light and forgiving touch.

2.) For the double. I can’t over-emphasize the need for establishing and maintaining a steady rhythm for this iteration. If the two chains start to operate independently of each other in terms of their pacing, they will quickly start to compete in a disorderly way that makes it essentially impossible to move forward, especially when one player ends up getting both threads at the same time only to find they’re now two different words (and even in a large group, this happens more than you might expect). Also, be on the lookout for moments when improvisers essentially tag each other – so Player A sends K a “Zap” at the same time that K does the same to A. In these moments (which happen more than you might expect), both players should now send a “Zop” to a new member of the circle to keep both sequences going.

3.) For the trinities. There are some tried and tested techniques that can help get this trickier version up and running. First, encourage players to utilize the base model of Zip, Zap, Zop if they feel the energy or attack sagging. This established trinity is a great way to build confidence and momentum, especially if you find yourself getting bogged down in restart after restart. Similarly, as new triads enter the mix, it’s a good default to “burn these in” by letting the same pattern move around the circle multiple times before changing it up again (as Player A has modeled in the above example by returning to “Car”). When creating new sets, be wary of circling around the same categories time and again. If we have one “modes of transportation” trinity, it can be confusing to follow it immediately with “Airplane” or use “Scooter” in another Muppets-themed run. (When a round ends due to a fumble, all previously used words are now wiped clean and are up for grabs again in new contexts, however.) There can be a tendency to want to sidecoach players who are struggling to remember a prior offering but just cue the applause of failure instead if the chain has clearly been broken as this is ultimately more helpful than creating a tepid warm-up where players become afraid of being wrong or corrected by their teammates. Also, new players can tend to shift between trinities somewhat randomly (rather than at that pivotal “Zip” moment). So be on the lookout for that slip up and cue the applause as necessary (perhaps with a quick explanation as to the nature of the infraction to clarify the rules of the game). And finally, a personal (perhaps minor) pet peeve: as your ensemble becomes more fearless, strive to avoid falling into non-lists as these don’t really satisfy the concept of brainstorming new trinities. (For example, “Red”, “A”,” “Book” is really a short sentence rather than three items that belong in some discovered shared category.)

In performance

It’s perhaps (ironically) fitting that this is one of the last new editions to the Game Library during this second go around as the original variation of this improv standard is probably one of the first exercises most improvisers encounter in the rehearsal hall. The two more advanced variants can help change it up a little while retaining the simple elegance of this improvisational rite of passage!

New to ImprovDr.com or the Game Library? You can find the ever-expanding collection of games, exercises, and warm-ups here.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2026 David Charles/ImprovDr (The first 2026 entry!)

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Yearbook Photo”

This game provides a rate opportunity for team members to stretch their monologue creating skills while revisiting the potential horrors of taking a high school Yearbook Photo!

The Basics

A real or invented high school club serves as the launching point and players take the stage and assume strong character poses before freezing for their group photo (perhaps with an accompanying “smile” and camera flash from the booth). While their fellow players remain frozen, characters take turns stepping out of the tableau to narrate their story to the audience. After each monologue, the narrator returns to their original frozen position before a teammate repeats the process until every club member has had the chance to share.

Example

“Chess Club” inspires the action and the team of four players assume an odd selection of poses before the photographer’s camera flashes, the students freeze, and Player A makes their way to the forestage…

Player A: (straightening their club jacket, and with a big smile) “I’ll never forget this day. My parents, and all of my friends, were surprised when I signed up for the chess club and, in fairness, I have never been very good at board games, or much of anything for that matter. But I knew this was the club for me when I saw his name – Emmanuel – on the sign-up sheet.”

Player A looks longingly back at the frozen image of Player D.

Player A: “Sometimes you just know what the universe has in store for you, even if your parents and friends think you’ve lost your mind. But it wasn’t my mind I lost that day, it was my heart…”

The Focus

Snap into a strong point of view so that you can quickly find and exploit your character’s unique energy and spark.

Traps and Tips

1.) Use your body. There isn’t a lot of time for thinking as this game begins, and so it’s important – if not crucial – to literally jump into a deal right as the audience sees the assortment of characters assembling for the photo. Make a bold and definitive choice of some variety – an emotional energy, way of holding yourself, orientation to the space or another actor, a peculiarity or quirk… It’s unlikely that this first choice will make much sense initially to you or the audience, but as context begins to emerge, you’ll now have a deal from which to build and respond. And be sure to take these physical choices into your monologue as well.  Just walking with that seemingly random energy into the limelight can be enough to jumpstart your inspiration. Also, be aware of other’s physical realities, especially during the moments of transition, so that you can pick up on cues as to who might be ready to narrate next. (If in doubt, it can be helpful to assume you’ll move down the line in order from stage right to stage left.)

2.) Use your patience. There can be a tendency to rant to do too much when it’s your turn to narrate, but keep in mind that you have a whole team of players whose collective contributions will craft the greater narrative together. Early stories should feel a little incomplete as they’re laying the groundwork for those that will follow. While I wouldn’t necessarily advocate a strict Four Sentence Story approach (you can read about this exercise here), it can be helpful to strive to spread around the various story functions. Our initial speaker, A, for example, probably shouldn’t offer up the climax for the entire group but rather provide some of the raw material for others to weave and reincorporate. Endowing D as Emmanuel, their crush, offers a promising future connection. It will likely prove less helpful to then endow everyone else as well and spell out exactly what they did.

3.) Use your partners. There is generally a delightful cumulative effect to the narratives, with each character building off the details and energies introduced by their peers. So, while I caution against detail dumping on your teammates and constraining their own agency, players should be sure they are adding helpful and interesting flavors and spices to the emerging buffet. If early characters create and shelve rich specifics, it’s exciting to see later improvisers reclaim them and justify these gifts in their own way. Some ripening helps in this regard, so don’t grab at the thing that was just said if it might become more dynamically helpful further down the line. In this manner, A’s choice to endow D as their love interest allows B and C (assuming we’re narrating in that order) to offer up new or complicating story threads that can further heighten the payoff of D’s eventual climactic account.

In performance

In my experience, the final narrator does inherit somewhat of a “piece it all together” function in this game and so they can be at the mercy of their teammates. Yes, a little playful mischief and endowing can certainly add to the fun, but if earlier players are doing little else than shivving and placing incongruent details, the burden of the final position will become daunting and possibly even a little icky. (No one wants to be put into the position of coming up with the “punchline” for a joke without any punchline.) Instead, lean into character and relationships, and enjoy how the oddball group of club members construct a unified story together.

This format features a string of individual completed monologues. If you’re looking for a structure that breaks up these speeches into smaller portions, consider exploring the related game, Perspectives, here.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2025 David Charles/ImprovDr

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Xmas Carol”

Just in time for the holiday season…

The Basics

Players (usually a team of four) form a choral cluster or line and sing original lyrics to the tune of “Deck the Halls.” The resulting song may provide the origin story of a made-up holiday character provided by the audience.

Example

The music starts, and players craft verses about Lumpy, the piece of coal. 

Player A: (singing)

“Snowflakes dressed the windowsill.”

All:

“Falalalala Lalalala.”

Player B:

“Inside all the house was still. “

All:

“Falalalala Lalalala.”

Player C:

“Except one lone soul, who was grumpy.”

All:

“Falalalala Lalalala.”

Player D:

“Left all by himself, lay Lumpy.”

All:

“Falalalala Lalalala.”

The Focus

Take full advantage of the existing melody and structure to support your play and tell an original story.

Traps and Tips

1.) Set yourself up. Each role in the quartet offers unique gifts and challenges, so cast your teammates accordingly. It’s wise to establish with your musician a friendly key for your singers (or find a track that will accomplish the same). The third position (C above), in particular, can have some rather high notes to hit. Position A also requires confidence and a sense of strong musicality, so this isn’t a place to hide someone who struggles to find their note. This is one of those games that really invites a quick warmup and sing through backstage if you’re planning to add it to your show, especially with an untested combination of performers.

2.) Set each other up. One of the lovely features of this game is those helpful “Falalalala Lalalala” sections where everyone gets a chance to breathe and think a little. Use them! Players A and C are in the setup positions in terms of the AABB rhyme scheme, so they can maximize their companions’ chances for success by deploying some well-placed target rhymes or more simple vowels or common endings that give the next singer a wide-open playing field. The song (and story) benefits hugely from gifting the better or more obvious word to the next improviser, as C did with “grumpy” for D’s “Lumpy.” Don’t panic grab at the emblematic words only to leave your fellow songsters scrambling for something vaguely passable. If someone needs to take the hit, practice embracing this sacrificial act falling on the first half of the couplet.

3.) Set the structure up. Unless you’re blessed with a team of musical powerhouses, I’d advocate for keeping each player in the same position for each verse. (There are generally four stanzas in a song.) Each position can then focus on an essential function. I tend to think of A as the story steerer, cleaning up any peculiarities the rhyme necessitated, while C strives to set D up for a strong payoff and button for the verse, and B and D try to land something of value that rhymes! Concentrating on a smaller task can make the game feel a whole lot more manageable for everyone. In terms of structure, also consider utilizing a simple story frame, such as that taught with Four Sentence Story (here). If you elect to use the origin story gimmick, this gives a helpful way of focusing each verse with an introduction, problem, solution, and then resolution respectively, the resolution often culminating in some iteration of “And that’s the story of [insert character name here]”.

4.) Set the audience up. And while you’re at, why not encourage the audience to join in with those “Falalalala Lalalala” sections, at least at the end of the song, to add to the volume and joy of the whole holiday affair!

In performance

This is a relatively accessible overlay to add a little festive spirit to your lineup. And if you’re wondering why I’ve written about this under Xmas Carol rather than Christmas Carol, that might have something to do with the fact that I hated my Game Library not having a true “X” entry!!

Looking for a four-verse track to sing along to? Go here.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Kalani Senior
© 2025 David Charles/ImprovDr

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Word Ball”

Keep your teammates on their toes with this rapidly changing verbal challenge.

The Basics

One player (typically the emcee or an opposing team member) serves as the caller. Throughout the action, they periodically announce random numbers that determine how many words must feature in each speaking player’s dialogue.

Example

The scene is set on the balcony of a cruise ship cabin. Players A and B take the stage and stare out onto the moonlight night.

Caller: “Start with 5.”

Player A: (holding their beloved close) “This night has been perfection.”

Player B: “Happy first wedding anniversary, darling.”

Player A: “The first of many anniversaries…”

There is an offstage knock on their cabin door.

Caller: “2”

Player B: (scurrying off) “Room service…”

Player A: (delighted) “You didn’t…”

Player B: (opening the door) “I did.”

Player C: “Your champagne…”

Caller: “8…”

The Focus

Play fearlessly and endeavor to honor the calls even if that means not quite making it to the end of your intended sentence!

Traps and Tips

1.) The basics. For the players: just like the similar game, Sentences (see here), it’s more than fine to visibly keep track of your words on your fingers; in fact, that adds to the fun and lets the audience see that you’re not approximating the target number. And, as with the aforementioned game, be careful not to interrupt other players mid-sentence if they’ve not reached the assigned number, strive to alternate speakers so that one character doesn’t talk multiple times in a row, and avoid counting syllables rather than words. For the caller: it’s kind to start generously and patiently with numbers that will allow the foundations of the scene to clearly emerge and take hold. Look for helpful story moments to alter the target – such as the arrival of the waiter – rather than surprising the company with the timing of your early calls. The numbers alone are sufficiently challenging!

2.) The next level. For the players: work against the temptation of sounding like an emotionless robot. This dynamic can tend to strip the dialogue of any performance value, so really imbue every word with depth and subtext. Avoid talking just for the sake of talking or because it feels like it’s your turn. The scene can still contain silences, and stage business, and physical action. If you think of the scene as purely a verbal dynamic, then that is what it will become. For the caller: as the team (hopefully) finds their stride, strategically introduce some appropriate mischief (noting, as always, that your real intention should be to push the scene to greater heights rather than to scuttle or overwhelm it). Look for helpful contrasts in your calls: it’s less exciting or helpful to move from 4 to 5, for instance, than from 4 to 14 (or 40, although you’ll want to use those big numbers sparingly as they, by design, will usually halt the action).

3.) The nuances. For the players: look for, elevate (and then, perhaps, upend) patterns and routines. If one character keeps running out of words before they’ve said their piece, look for ways to lean into that choice. If you use an odd turn of phrase by necessity, consider weaving similar choices back into the mix. (Recently, a teammate found himself using “Dad Dad” to refer to his father to fill out a number and then kept that delightfully in play for the duration of the game.) Honor what accidentally happens in order to obey the “rules” and make it important in a “no mistakes in improv” kind of way. For the caller: look for, elevate (and then, perhaps, upend) patterns and routines. If your calls tend to land when the same character is about to speak, consider making this a sub game if it’s serving and everyone is having fun. If someone – possibly the waiter in the above scenic snippet – hasn’t spoken much, look for a chance to give them an opus of a monologue. If players have soared (or hilariously struggled) to land a particular call, there might be untapped joy if you surprisingly announce that same number again…

4.) The addendum. For players and caller alike, just avoid recycling old discoveries or games out of habit rather than attacking the stage and uncovering (together) new, organic possibilities (as is a standard wisdom, frankly, for all improv games, but doubly so for those that rely on a recurring handle or gimmick). If you return to this game a lot, it can be difficult not to dance a similar dance as before but always look for the new move born from the moment. The illustrations above are intended to inspire rather than provide a set playlist of bits. So, while I once stumbled into the choice of calling a fraction, inviting the characters to speak half a word each, I don’t look to relive this every time I’m in the caller’s chair.

In performance

It’s also possible for the caller to offer unique numbers for each onstage persona: “Player A – 4; Player B – 9.” Or, to the same end, change different players at different moments, so Player A stays in 4 while Player B is cued to individually change to 9 and the rest of the onstage company retains their own prior number. A little of this variant can serve, especially as the scene nears the finish line, but overly complicated calling (in an already challenging game) can tend to just bog down the actors and confuse the audience who takes delight in counting alongside the team (and, subsequently, want to clearly know what number everyone needs). This adjustment also moves Word Ball further into Sentences territory (linked above), which isn’t a bad thing in and of itself, but this alternative more clearly and elegantly puts word counts up against each other, so I don’t see the innate value in dragging this format into that related territory.

For the warm-up exercise that goes by the same name, go here.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Olivia Skvarenina
© 2025 David Charles/ImprovDr

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Word at a Time Express”

And here’s a warmup game that isn’t as easy as it might seem at first glance.

The Basics

Teams face off, and each provides one member (usually) on the playing field. Inspired by an audience prompt (at least initially), the featured pair improvise a narrated fast-paced story with each performer providing one word at a time. When the story falters (or, more rarely, reaches a satisfying conclusion), the audience makes a game show buzzer sound (or similar), and two new improvisers replace their teammates and repeat the process with a new story (possibly based on the initial suggestion or the prior offering or just the whim of the moment). 

Example

Players A and B rush to the stage and craft a high-energy story based on the idea of “marshmallows.”

Player A: “Benji…”

Player B: “Skewered…”

Player A: “An…”

Player B: “Extra…”

Player A: “Large…”

Player B: “Marshmallow…”

Player A: “With…”

Player B: “His…”

Player A: “Stick. “

The Focus

Bravely following the story wherever it might want to go.

Traps and Tips

1.) Don’t forget… the basics. As a “word-at-a-time” game, all the basic rules apply for this outing. It’s generally advisable to avoid first-person narratives (although these are less problematic with just two players than many of the related games). Be wary of winding run-on sentences that have no end in sight. And, most important of all, attack each new word with gusto so as to keep the momentum building. See here for other pointers for this verbal dynamic.

2.) Don’t forget… the staging. While this is a storytelling game at its core, that doesn’t mean it should become static physically. Narrators should, at the very least, engage their bodies and liberally use gestures and body language to enrich the narrative. At the not so very least, the action can become partially enacted with players pantomiming their joint adventure. It’s advisable to loosely face each other (as opposed to link arms as a word-at-a-time expert or character might) as this facilitates a faster pace when players can see each other’s mouths and intentions.

3.) Don’t forget… the greater conceit. Standing face-to-face also elevates the overall competitive vibe of the warmup (although this is very much an illusion as players won’t create anything of any value if they aren’t rigorously and generously working together). The appearance of competitiveness, however, helps the performance. Players should rush to the stage to replace “eliminated” teammates and seek even greater attack and finesse than those who went before. If each story doesn’t build off the last – in terms of risk, fearlessness, tempo, and possibly even callbacks and reincorporations – your company is likely to lose interest and excitement rather than increase these pivotal energies. So, as you look to construct each individual story, don’t forget the greater arc of the game as a whole as well.

In performance

I’ve generally seen this game used as an all-play style warmup before an audience at the top of the show. When embraced with skillful abandon, it usually culminates in a particularly impressive feat of storytelling bravery, or equally delightful narrative disaster. It certainly could work as a decider, with the host quickly assigning a point for team members who didn’t drop the ball, although you’d want to make sure this didn’t slow the transition of players running on and off the stage as this adds a lot to the energy and charm of the piece. Similarly, it could easily function as a pre-show or workshop warmup.

This structure sporadically appears and then disappears from the show roster in my current home venue. I don’t tend to seek it out as a player as it’s trickier than it looks and requires a high level of attentiveness and commitment to create pleasing results right at the top of a show. If you (or your team) are personally a little off, there’s nowhere to hide in between each shared word. That being said, I have to confess that I nearly always enjoy this game more than I think I’m going to when heading into the experience. The key is to embrace the joy of really connecting with fellow players and following that excitement wherever it might take you.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Olivia Skvarenina
© 2025 David Charles/ImprovDr

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Word at a Time Broadway Star”

Here’s a lesser played musical improv game that makes the challenge of singing an original song even more difficult!

The Basics

Players form a line or tight cluster and become one “Broadway star” assigned the task of singing an original song based on an audience-inspired premise or title. Each line of lyric, however, is constructed in a “word-at-a-time” fashion moving quickly down the line in quick succession until the song culminates in a rousing ending.

Example

The title “Lifeguard Lessons” serves as the prompt. The improv musician begins to play a lush accompaniment as the players (A though D) form a tight line before the audience and start to croon…

Player A: “The…”

Player B: “Sun…”

Player C: “Shone…”

Player D: “Brightly…”

Player A: “In…”

Player B: “The…”

Player C: “Clear…”

Player D: “Blue…”

Player A: “Sky.”

The Focus

Find the unifying perspective and voice, and strive to incorporate the traditional devices and structural techniques that give an improvised song polish. While this game “appears” easier than other improv singing formats, in reality, the heightened teamwork and listening skills make it markedly more prone to chaos and inelegant fumbling.

Traps and Tips

1.) Start kindly. Perhaps more of a note for the musician collaborator, but it’s generally wise to begin the song with a more legato or leisurely feel. This gives each player a chance to find their own voice on the accompaniment in relation to their teammates and the emerging melodic line. When each word is truly sung with full support and commitment, you’re likely to gain confidence and a musical (and stylistic) template that can then serve the later verses. This doesn’t mean every single word should be needlessly milked – if you’re offering up a multi-syllabic contribution, take your time to find it’s musicality and sense. In terms of lyrics, it can also be helpful to start at least one step away from the provided offer or topic. By creating the feel of the day before introducing the lifeguard appears gives the team an easy place to land if the logic becomes strained or they’re looking for the chorus.

2.) Continue observantly. With the added risk of multiple authors, it can be easy to throw away song structure and just meander aimlessly from one word to the next. The game will become considerably more impressive if you still introduce and echo a rhyme scheme, craft clear verses that have a similar ring, and forge a simple chorus which is memorable and that returns as needed. Now this is all more easily written than accomplished, and the hiccups will undoubtedly provide a great deal of pleasure, but if you set up and land even one targeted rhyme, or reincorporate the essence of a pre-established chorus, your creation will start to feel like an actual song. A helpful interim strategy is to simply look for things to echo or repeat: words or phrases, line structures, melodic finesses, dramatic pauses…

3.) Disrupt strategically. I advise beginning the song with a slower intro section or verse, but as players find their vibe and connection, look for ways to increase the challenge (with an admittedly already challenging game)! If the whole song feels plodding or sluggish, even a masterful construction will land a little anticlimactically. So be on the lookout for opportunities to increase the risk which usually, though not exclusively, will consist of upping the tempo and shortening the space between each individual word. If singers start to bravely clip into each other’s offer – so that there is a small amount of overlap – this will add energy and interest. This increased pace is also a lovely way to construct a bridge if a slower tempo is generally serving, so singers should be vigilant to honor any dynamic adjustments provided by the improvising musician.

4.) End boldly. Similar to Tag-Team Song (described here) a helpful, somewhat standard, button to the piece can consist of the entire company joining together for the last word (or perhaps phrase) so that you can introduce some harmonies and greater vocal stylings if your team is so inclined (and capable of such a feat)! Regardless of whether this becomes an all-play moment, make sure the final singer really savors that last word to bring the piece home. And if you throw in a dynamic pose with the rest of the team, that’s additional icing on the improv cake as well!

In performance

A thought on microphones: I currently play in a venue where we’re fortunate enough to all wear body mics and so we tend to just rely on these for amplification. If that isn’t your setup but you have a microphone on a stand or similar available to you, I would actually advise against using it for this piece (unless the acoustics of your space or strength of your singers’ voices absolutely demands it). It can prove challenging to gather a larger number of players around a single mic without necessitating awkward shuffles or leaning in to sing each word. This small staging choice can actually have a surprisingly large effect on the pacing and rhythm of the song as each word is now preceded by a movement or pause. When players can just stand in a line (albeit a slightly curved one to facilitate hearing each other), there tends to be fewer impediments to quickly passing the focus when inspiration hits.

New to ImprovDr.com or the Game Library? You can find the ever-expanding collection of games, exercises, and warm-ups here.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Gontran Durocher
© 2025 David Charles/ImprovDr

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “What Happens Next?”

This exercise that explores the concept (and gift) of making small and obvious steps is pulled from my high school improv days with Dunedin Impro and so is likely the brainchild of Kieth Johnstone who infused much of our workshops in those days.

The Basics

One Player, A, volunteers to be the performer and stands before the workshop group. Another four players (or thereabouts) sit on the ground and become the “panel” while the remaining ensemble members form an audience behind their five peers. Player A prompts each new step of their action by asking the panel, “What happens next?” A panel member (perhaps working in order down the line) then offers up a small, connected, and obvious choice that Player A performs before pausing again to ask for another step in their journey. Observers in the audience (perhaps led by the facilitator) can “challenge” actions before they’re executed if they feel they are unhelpfully giant, needlessly random, or gratuitously over-original. If such a challenge is deemed warranted, a new step is brainstormed for the featured player to complete. The process continues until a natural and satisfying ending emerges.

Example

Player A stands “neutrally” in front the panel.

Player A: “What happens first?”

Player B: “You open the refrigerator door.”

Player A reaches in front of them to pull open an imaginary refrigerator door and then pauses.

Player A: “What happens next?”

Player C: “You reach for the milk carton on the top shelf.”

Player A performs the stated activity.

Player A: “What happens next?”

Player D: “Your cat brushes up against your leg…”

Player A reacts to the arrival of their cat.

Player A: “What happens next?”

Player E: “You drop the milk cartoon after being startled…”

The Focus

In large part, this is a storytelling and progression exercise, that embodies Johnstone’s “backwards-looking improviser” model where each new step can be determined by considering what has just occurred. Surprisingly engaging one-person vignettes can magically emerge from just following where the simple prompt can lead you.

Traps and Tips

1.) For the performer. Simply put, do what you’re told! Yes, you’ll want to bring your gifts as a performer to the part but be careful that you don’t overly complicate or add to the steps offered up by the panel. If you reach for something in the fridge before being told to do so, you are inadvertently editing a whole host of narrative possibilities – the light in the refrigerator might have gone out, or there’s been a power outage and you’re confronted by the smell of rotting food, or you’re a struggling student and there is absolutely nothing in the fridge to stave off your hunger. You don’t want to be an emotionless automaton who plods through the paces without any performance energy or value either. But seek to honor the “small steps” nature of the exercise and aim to concentrate on what you’re given and no more.

2.) For the panel. I’ve noted the points of concentration (to use Spolin’s terminology) above, in that you should strive to provide small, connected, and obvious moves for the featured player. Small in that they don’t condense bigger processes in a way that erases the chance of new smaller discoveries within the steps: “You grab some eggs and make yourself a cheese omelet on the stove.” Connected in that contributions don’t wildly shift the lens, mood, or promise of the scene or squash subtler potentials under their boot: “You put on your suit and go to work on your motorcycle.” And obvious in that you are seeking to react to the unfolding story rather than overtly manipulate it to a personal or predetermined end: “You find the taxidermized racoon on the shelf and stage a puppet play for your cat.” In many ways, you should never feel the pressure to do too much with your direction. Rather, it should just pick up where the prior action left off in a possibly unremarkable yet helpful way.

3.) For the observers and facilitator. This exercise tends to invite more frequent interruptions when the system is being modeled and practiced for the first time. Small, connected, and obvious steps sound like a rather simple mandate until you are actually tasked with achieving them with each subsequent addition. Don’t inundate the panel with intellectualized meanderings and minutiae – everyone’s obvious, for example, should probably be a little different so there’s not a lot to be gained from deep debates on that front. (The appearance of the cat, for example, could feel like a non sequitur for someone who doesn’t have pets, while the sound of the fridge opening luring Kitty into the kitchen likely feels very connected to someone who lives that reality on a daily basis.) The game also loses something when players can’t build any momentum between instructions or Player A is left in limbo time and again for epic discussions about subtleties. Utilizing raised hands and a moderator can help in this regard, so that if an outlier sees something small, that can be shelved for later consideration, in contrast to most of the room feeling like a move was too big or bizarre.

In performance

It’s standard protocol to check in with the featured improviser (Player A) at the completion of the scene, especially if some pimping or discomforting choices nudged them into awkward territory. If you’ve let a few more “minor infractions” slip by, the debrief can also allow for a less disruptive moment to muse on some more nuanced missed or subverted opportunities.

If you’re in the market for a performance-ready variant on this same theme, see my earlier entry on the game Options, here.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Tony Firriolo
© 2025 David Charles/ImprovDr

Game Library Expansion Pack I