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Game Library: “Questions Only”

Also known as just Questions, this language dynamic can work as a challenging short-form scenic game, a fun character overlay, or as a fast-paced decider. This entry assumes the latter focus: take a glance at my earlier entry on this game’s funhouse mirror partner, Scene Without Questions here, for pertinent tips on a more scenic approach if that’s your preference or need.

The Basics

Can you imagine a game where characters can only speak in the form of questions? Would it surprise you that failing to do so would result in your elimination from the scene? Who will ultimately remain to represent their team after the battle of questions and emerge as the victor? Is this definition clear, or do you need more information? Did you see what I did there? Is this amusing anyone anymore at this stage?

Example

Opposing teams (or perhaps a handful of representatives if you’re playing with a larger cast) receive “Kindergarten” as their suggestion. Players A and B represent the first team, with Players C and D playing for the second. Players A and C begin as an overwhelmed teacher and overstimulated child, respectively.

Player A: “Weeraya, can you please put the chalk away?”

Player C: “What are you going to do if I don’t?!”

Player A: “Do I need to call your parents again? Don’t you remember that they were very unhappy with you last time?”

Player C thinks about this for a second…

Player C: “Is threatening a child really appropriate?”

Player A: “Can’t you see all the other children have gone outside for play time?”

Player C: (starting to draw on the walls) “Why can’t I just play in here with the chalk? Can’t you see I want to stay inside?”

Player A: “Do I have to count to three…?”

Player C: “Can you?”

Player A: “I don’t get paid enough for this!”

Caller: (in response to audience reactions, cueing the elimination) “Teacher.”

Player A, as the flustered teacher, leaves the scene in character. Their teammate enters in their stead (but as a new character).

Player B: (as the supervisor) “Haven’t we talked about this, Weeraya?”

Player C: “Please, can’t I just play inside?”

Player B: “Are you going to apologize to Ms. Riley…?”

The Focus

There are some mental gymnastics at the core of the game as players must quickly respond in the form of a question while also keeping some forward scenic momentum. Doing both at the same time with finesse is no small task! When used as a decider, avoid having teammates playing opposite each other in the scene for any protracted period of time, and a caller should clearly announce infractions. (The audience can also assist in this regard by being cued to groan or make a game show buzzer sound.) Vignettes needn’t consist strictly of pairs, but I find this tightened focus helpful and energizing.

Traps and Tips

1.) Does every offer need to be a question? In short, yes. This doesn’t mean that players can’t and shouldn’t also deploy vibrant physical and emotional choices, but when they speak, every sentence needs to function clearly as a question. (It follows that if you provide two sentences in a row that both must function independently as questions as well.) Using loaded or detailed questions that include strong offers will serve you and the scene better than vague musings. Just as is the case in any improv scene, “Are you eating the red playdough again?” offers more potential than “What are you doing?” Verbal restriction games can easily become talking head scenes, so strive to keep other storytelling elements dynamically in play as well as this just adds to the impressiveness!

2.) Can I remain silent if I don’t know what to say? When used as a decider, it’s typically good form to bounce back and forth between speakers with some predictable regularity, hence the tradition of treating the scene primarily as a two-person exchange until someone is eliminated. A brief moment of strategic silence can add some tension and playfulness, but prolonged silence should be noted by the caller and result in expulsion, especially if the scenic spark is petering out to little more than an ember. If you’re really lost for words, it can serve the scene to just boldly say anything in character and take the resulting elimination with relief and good humor.

3.) Are there cheats or wimps that I should avoid? When I serve as the caller or facilitator there are a handful of habits that I issue warnings for and ultimately use to eliminate players, especially if the decider is going long or one team or player is dominating. Repeating the same form of question or sentence structure dulls the challenge: “Can you go outside?” followed by “Can you leave me alone?” followed by “Can you follow instructions?” followed by “Can you be a better teacher?” By the third or fourth “can,” it can start to feel like a cop out, particularly if this has been occurring a lot in the scene thus far. Tag questions can also prove problematic (or just provide an opportunity to expel players as needed): “That isn’t a very nice way to talk to your teacher now, is it?” Non sequiturs that don’t add or strongly connect to the current action also degrade the story arc. Similarly, just throwing on an upward inflection to the end of a line, while often clever, is worth calling out usually as well?!

4.) How about any strategies to raise the level of attack? I find this dynamic infinitely more accessible and enjoyable when I have quickly established my deal and objective as a character. Once you know your want, then most of your questions can serve as tactics fighting to move you towards this goal. To prevent a stalling tempo, it helps to just launch into your sentences with a brave leap rather than attempting to solve each language riddle before making a sound. Grabbing at a question word – who, how, what, where, which, why, is, do, could, will… – and then seeing where it takes you is a great and user-friendly way to commit. If you end up running dry before the end of the sentence, then so be it… Just take the elimination with grace and embrace your exit. Unquestionably, if you play to lose by jumping headfirst into each speech act with complete abandon, you and the audience will have more fun.

5.) Does this game work differently when played as a scene rather than a decider? As a decider, you’ll typically have one representative from each team facing off against each other and then shuffling through the remaining players. I prefer playing this continuously as one long scene with multiple eliminations and entrances, but others like discrete vignettes that restart anew, perhaps grabbing a different ask-for each time along the way. The former style allows for a more impressive and cohesive story, while the latter provides an opportunity for more fast-paced variety. While I’ve mainly seen and utilized this dynamic as a decider, with playfully adept improvisers, there’s no reason you couldn’t successfully slate it in a show as a scene. My Scene Without Questions post here offers helpful pointers for ways to structure infraction penalties.

In Performance

Is it a challenge to move a scene forward only through the use of questions? Could such an experience helpfully reduce the stigma of asking questions on the improv stage while simultaneously reinforcing the import of assumptions and acceptance? Will audiences delight in watching players reveling in verbal virtuosity? Are you already using this as a short-form decider or scenic handle? Do you have any lingering… questions?

Cheers, David Charles.
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Photo Credit: Tony Firriolo
© 2022 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Questions

“Q” is for “Questions”

Most improv schools (rightly) warn of nervously asking Questions on stage as the habit can tend to put the creative burden on your scene partners. That being said, there are…

Six Great Times to Ask a Question…

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Related Entries: Cartooning, Consent, Initiation, Offer, Speaking Your Truth, Specificity, Subtext Antonyms: Assumption

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

Connected Game: Questions Only

Game Library: “Inappropriate Behavior”

I first encountered this scenic format at Players Workshop of the Second City but once you become familiar with Inappropriate Behavior you realize just how much this dynamic is a mainstay of sitcoms and comedic movies. Coupled with some strategic Punching Up, the format ignites the action in even more powerful ways and opens up a broader (and less problematic) field of play.

The Basics

I typically teach this with a more sketch comedy approach, providing the players with a quick brainstorming session to determine a basic who, what, and where (or CROW) as this is how I first encountered the structure. If you take this approach, players should select a location or situation that has a clear built-in sense of decorum, and one improviser should volunteer to serve as the outlier. (For what it’s worth, more extroverted improvisers tend to clamor for this opportunity but enabling introverts to take on this role often opens up more gentle and well-paced scenic arcs.) This same basic launching point could certainly be elicited from an audience instead as a traditional ask-for or just discovered in the flow of a long-form piece or open scene. The vignette plays out with team members creating and honoring the societal norms inherent in the foundational locale. The outlier, typically entering a few beats into the scene, gradually infuses the action with increasingly inappropriate behavior that breaches the expected codes of conduct. The choices slowly escalate throwing the other characters into various hues of disarray.

Example

The lights rise on a funeral home with a smattering of attendees sitting quietly. It’s clear that no one knew the deceased particularly well (nor each other for that matter.) The tone is strained but respectful.

Player A: (in hushed tones) “I feel bad that I really haven’t seen much of him in years. It was almost by accident I learned of his passing.”

Player B: (in a similar whispered voice) “He was a very private person. We talked occasionally on the phone, although my life has gotten so busy recently…”

Player C, an attendant, quietly approaches the attendees.

Player C: (quietly) “I noticed you both didn’t have a program.”

Player A: “Thank you so much.”

Player B: “That’s a lovely photo of him.”

Player C: (kindly) “I’m glad you both could make it.”

A slightly disheveled Player D enters the room with a surprising burst of energy…

Player D: (full voiced) “Well, I s’pose this is finally goodbye!”

Player A and B share an incongruous look. Player C approaches D with a program.

Player D: “No thanks. It’ll just end up sitting in my car for months before I throw it away.”

Player B: (whispering as before) “I think that’s his best friend from the living community…”

Player D, despite the full array of open seats starts to squeeze between A and B.

Player D: “Make some room there…”

Player A: (surprised, but pleasant) “Oh, yes, of course…”

The Focus

Enjoy the evolving tension between the social norms and the outlier’s behavior. My example is inspired by a scene I experienced as a teacher while at Louisiana State University that has stayed with me over 20 years later. In particular, I fondly recall the choices of the miscreant character, played by Preston Lorio, who by the end of the scene had straddled the body of the deceased in an effort to change suits with him, much to the chagrin of the other assembled guests.

Traps and Tips

1.) Lay the behavioral groundwork. It’s difficult for the misbehaver to challenge the status quo if these preferred behaviors aren’t clearly and strongly already present in the scene (and inherently understood by your audience). Those playing into the norms should do so robustly. If other characters start to also question the social “rules” in play, especially as the scene begins, it becomes much more difficult for the inappropriate behavior to land and build. For example, if the initial funeral attendees exuded a causal or carefree quality rather than the hushed tones of reverence, then Player D’s entrance would not effectively herald the turmoil to follow. Much of the success of the outlier and, subsequently of the scene itself, lies in the hands of the “straight” or “civilized” characters who model what society has deemed as decorous. Don’t overlook or undervalue the import and potential that emerges from this facet of the scene.

2.) React honestly to etiquette breaches. There is a delicate balancing act when you assume the normative roles: if you ignore the strange behaviors, then you can quickly become irrelevant passengers in the scene; if you take great umbrage at every small departure from established custom, then you can inadvertently squelch the rising action. Seek the middle ground. React honestly while also using the very strictures of the formal scenario to moderate your own character’s choices. If someone starts talking loudly at a service you would certainly notice and react, but this might be with a judging look, nudge to your scene partner, or recommitment to your own whispered quality of speech. Without these subtextual signals the contrast between what is and isn’t expected can become dulled and less impactful.

3.) Give the outlier room and permission to play. Connected to the above thought, it can be tempting (and logical) to want to quickly shut down the odd behavior of the designated social deviant. This is another complex dynamic. Yes, by the scene’s conclusion the outlier might become expelled from the scene or outnumbered by a growing chorus seeking civility. As the scene takes its first steps, however, it can prove challenging for the misbehaver if they are met with immovable obstacles representing the status quo. If Player C as the attendant immediately and sternly calls security to have Player D removed, then the scene could soon evaporate or become bogged down by inactive negotiations. Instead, provide room and opportunities for the “different” character to explore. Once they find a promising trajectory, it’s not uncommon for the scene to heavily favor them in terms of stage time in a technical sense (they may take on nearly half the dialogue, for example) but players shouldn’t overlook the power and contribution of strong reactions and emotional presence. It’s generous for the outlier to return this focus favor by delaying their initial entrance a little as this gives others room to establish their own games and given circumstances before the train inevitably starts to derail.

4.) Use the curve of absurdity. If this term is unfamiliar, you can read a little more about it here, but in short it advocates beginning our scenes close to reality and then gently ramping up the level of unexpected behavior. One of the reasons the inspiration for my example scene has stuck with me all these years later is that the team so carefully let the absurdity of the story grow with each move. When you’re marked as the inappropriate behaver it can prove tempting to hit the stage with your strongest and most egregious choice right from the get-go, but this will rarely give you anywhere to climb. Rather, start with small breaches of etiquette: Player D could have entered yelling but instead just used an everyday vocal quality which is enough to be seen as different. Similarly, they didn’t lie on the floor or immediately go and sit in the coffin but broke norms by not sitting at a suitable distance from the other attendees. Especially in situations where the audience is not privy beforehand to the dynamic in question, they need to learn the game as it unfolds, and the final larger-than-life moves must be earned.

In Performance

Played with astuteness this game will say as much if not more about the “normal” and expected behaviors as it does about the choices of the social misfit. I hesitated to use the funeral example as on the page it can appear as if the scene is making fun of grief or loss whereas in performance it emerged quite clearly that the target was the suffocating pomp and impersonal nature of many Western funeral traditions. If the funeral was a truly tragic affair, the scene would have quickly felt inappropriate in all the wrong kinds of ways. Hence the import of displaying some care in selecting the event or facet of social life that you want to depict through this warped satiric mirror.

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

Connected Concept: Punching Up

“P” is for “Punching Up”

Understanding that not all jokes are created equally and that the targets of our performances should be carefully and smartly chosen.

Choosing Our Comedic Target…

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Related Entries: Archetype, Comedy, Inclusiveness, Material Antonyms: Punching Down Synonyms: Awareness, Responsibility

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

Connected Game: Inappropriate Behavior

Game Library: “Ritual Scene”

There is no room to hide in Ritual Scene, and players must commit one hundred percent in order for the game to land. Performed without full Presence, or with an air of apology, the central dynamic is likely to flounder or whimper away. When attacked with gusto and relish, the results are often surprisingly invigorating and breathtaking!

The Basics

Players acquire a mundane or everyday activity or chore to inspire their scene, such as washing the dishes or combing your hair. This simple action then provides the roadmap for an epic scene that heightens the task into the grandest and most august of rituals. Generally accompanied by larger-than-life music or a suitably dramatic soundtrack, players break down the action into its constituent elements, making each moment deeply significant and theatrical. Language, if used at all, is featured sparsely or with the emotional intensity of a chant or summoning.

Example

The team explores the ritual of “brushing your teeth.” The scene begins with an empty stage as players begin a steady and ominous percussive drumming that is soon joined by the improvising musician.

Player A is the first to enter the space. With their hands aloft, they present an imaginary basin, and with great ceremonious precision, they slowly march until they are center stage. Here, they place the basin down in full view and then slowly walk backward until they finally drop to their knees in a deep bow.

From the opposite side of the stage, Player B now enters with a heavy water jug. They display it to Player A, the audience, and then to the heavens before making their stately procession to the stowed basin. Once they arrive, with a flourish of music and percussion, they raise the jug and, in a sweeping motion, fill the previously empty basin. As Player A did before them, they then back carefully away and lower themselves in a prostrate position.

As the music swells once more, Players C and D now enter simultaneously but from opposite sides of the stage, one holding the toothbrush, the other the toothpaste tube...

The Focus

This is a great game and exercise for exploring heightened stakes and developing an organic but unified sense of style. In lieu of a traditional story, the game thrives on breaking down the simple steps of the proffered action and using these as the beats of the dramatic arc. Give each moment its due and sell it for all its worth.

Traps and Tips

1.) Slow it down. Rituals, whether secular or sacred, treat each moment with care, and there is typically very little superfluous or insignificant movement. Make every offer and choice deliberate and meaningful. Elevate or celebrate the tools or elements needed to complete the assigned task and don’t rush to the ending. Most tasks could be reasonably completed rather quickly; by embracing their ritualistic qualities or potentials, these actions should now feel almost operatic. This format provides a rare opportunity to really indulge and extend.

2.) Break it up. Don’t throw away the theatricality of ceremonial staging, prop reveals, and protagonist arrivals. In the toothbrushing example, the scene has probably been nearly a minute without the toothbrusher even arriving, and this feels completely in the spirit of the game. The story in a ritual scene really is little more than the sequential steps of the task, so the audience is far less interested in what is going to happen than they are in watching how it all unfolds. Part of the scene’s effectiveness, then, is exploring and exaggerating the little rituals that are familiar and making them delightfully strange and new again.

3.) Honor what has come before. Aim to play with the same movement vocabulary and sense of style. If the first entrance is walking-down-the-wedding-aisle slow, then be cautious of upending this choice through carelessness. Ritual innately invites repetition and parallel actions. Just as is the case with more traditional language-based scenes, look both for the deliberate offers and also the delightful accidents that can be accepted by the judicious mind and woven into the fabric of the grand event. This also keeps the scene fresh and avoids the risk of just recycling a short list of tropes while replacing “toothbrush” with the next object du jour.

4.) Give it all you’ve got. Much of the reward of this premise resides in the stark juxtaposition between the banal prompt and the operatic treatment. Avoid undermining this fun with needlessly pedestrian or undersold physical work. One improviser taking on a deadpan energy or air of commentary in an effort to be different, or just as a means of remaining personally safe, makes it so much more difficult for their teammates to keep the game building towards a scenic crescendo. Without fully present players, the scene will rarely flow; when everyone rows in the same direction, the ritual can take on a life of its own.

In Performance

If you are a more verbal-centric improviser, Ritual Scene encourages a whole different style of play that can prove truly liberating. Language can have a place, but I’ve found that chanting or keening more opaque sounds (or perhaps just simple singular words) adds powerfully to the piece. If you are more movement-centric, then this game likely has your name written all over it! Enjoy.

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

Connected Concept: Presence

“P” is for “Presence”

The difficult to describe but immediately recognizable quality of an improviser who exudes confidence, focus, and a sense of belonging.

Attributes of the Present Improviser…

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Related Entries: Abandon, Change, Commitment, Focus Antonyms: Absence, Distractedness, Passenger Synonyms: It (as in, they have “it”)

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

Connected Game: Ritual Scene

Game Library: “Word at a Time Crime”

Players must work together closely to overcome the inherent challenges posed by Word at a Time Crime. This game shares a great deal with other word-at-a-time short-form formats, but its utilization of narrative and predisposition towards action make it a particular fitting pairing with Postponing as there’s little time to waste if the scene is to make it satisfyingly to the finish line.

The Basics

A non-violent or petty crime is obtained and two players volunteer to serve as the featured criminal. They link arms (or connect in a way that is comfortable) and narrate their actions in a word-at-a-time fashion, taking extra care to speak in the first-person singular. Other team members populate the scene as characters or obstacles, adding complications for the narrating criminal and engaging in dialogue as the scene requires. The scene may incorporate a strict time limit to add urgency, and the story culminates in glorious success, abject failure, or some interesting combination or alternative to these unequivocal results.

Example

Players A and B are working together as the criminal and are given the prompt of “stealing a garden gnome.” They put their arms around each other’s waists and begin the scene crouching on the ground. Player A, with their outer hand, is holding a mimed flashlight and scans the horizon as the criminal begins to crawl, all-the-while narrating.

Player A: “Crawling…”

Player B: “on…”

Player A: “the…”

Player B: “neighbor’s…”

Player A: “lawn…”

Player B: “I…”

Player A: “quickly…”

Player B: “eyed…”

Player A: “their…”

Player B: “pesky…”

Player A: “garden…”

Player B: “gnome.”

Both players have begun slithering awkwardly on the ground, retaining their physical connection as best they can, while Player A continues to direct the flashlight. Character C quickly assumes the role of the porcelain gnome by adopting a suitable pose. Their narration continues…

Players A and B (continuing to alternate one word each) “Your… days… of… watching… my… every… move… are… over… little… man!”

As the criminal lunges towards the gnome, Player D can be heard from offstage.

Player D: “No, something has definitely triggered the motion sensor in the front yard. I’ll be back in a second, sweetie.”

Players A and B frantically look around for somewhere to hide and leap behind an imaginary bush…

The Focus

Imposing a one or two minute time restriction on the game serves well as it pushes players into action and discourages long criminal preambles or planning sessions. Despite the language restriction, players should make strong verbal and physical choices trusting that their fellow players will join and justify anything that is unclear or clumsy. When the criminal encounters other characters, the paired persona should utilize word-at-a-time dialogue as well.

Traps and Tips

Many of the core features of this game resemble Double Speak so those tips (which you can read about here) apply to this short-form game too. The significantly unique quality is the narrative device so that serves as my primary focus for this entry.

1.) Avoid passive language. The criminal will quickly discover the hindrance of passive or intellectual verbs. If they “thought” or “decided” rather than “lunged” or “climbed” the scene often becomes bloated and inactive. Use your words to spur action and discovery rather than to muse and reflect. Even if you are utilizing a rather silly or mundane crime as your inspiration, imbue your language with intensity and conviction. Embrace the delightful turns of phrase and unanticipated details as they emerge.

2.) Avoid just talking. It’s foreseeable that the language restriction will create communication challenges so don’t rely on your words alone to advance the story and give it interest. Make assertive physical choices that define the space in dynamic ways. Why walk if you can slink? Why open a door if you can kick it down? Why just grab the gnome if you can meticulously place it in a custom-built bag with an intricate locking mechanism? Do your best not to rush through or approximate complex actions but rather savor the challenge of completing these with your scene partner. Furthermore, craft environments that will provide suitably rich physical playgrounds and opportunities rather than stand idly in the void.

3.) Avoid prolonged conversations. Word at a Time Crime can move between descriptive first-person narrative and dialogue with other characters – which is “normal” for the partner but also constructed in a word-at-a-time fashion for the criminal – but be cautious of not allowing sufficient space for the criminal to return to their narrative device. Brave narration serves as the center piece of the format so supporting players should be mindful that the criminal needs ongoing opportunities to craft narrative asides. Supporting players can certainly quickly set the scene to provide context for the criminal, but it’s generally wise to let this titular character have a little free rein initially so that they can find and strengthen a word-at-a-time rhythm.

4.) Avoid imbalance. I refer to the supporting players in this game as the “To Make Matters Worse Squad” as their main function is to playfully pitch challenges to the protagonist. If an obstacle becomes too difficult or too omnipresent, the criminal can find themselves stumped without any path forward. For example, while Player D could come out and check their lawn, remaining on their well-lit porch for the remainder of the scene would probably prove unwise. Assuming the role of important props (such as the gnome), providing environmental elements (lawn sprinklers), or sound effects (a lightning bolt), are other helpful ways teammates can contribute. It doesn’t ultimately matter if the criminal succeeds or fails, but the crime shouldn’t feel so impossible that they are discouraged from making any progress towards their goal.

In Performance

And speaking of things to avoid, I actively avoid violent or physical crimes in the set up as they can just make a rather silly game feel unnecessarily icky. If you are uncomfortable with the crime frame altogether you can easily substitute it with a prompt calling for a physical problem to overcome – instead of “stealing the coins out of a parking meter” the word-at-a-time character might need to “escape from quicksand” or “rescue a beached whale…”

Connected Concept: Postponing

“P” is for “Postponing”

Postponing or deferring the scenic action is a prevalent form of improvisational procrastination.

I’ll Get Around to Giving This a Clever Title Later…

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Related Entries: Commandment #6, Commandment #8, Waffling, Wimping Antonyms: Abandon, Advancing, Leaping Synonyms: Inaction

Connected Game: Word at a Time Crime

Game Library: “Best and Worst”

I provide this offering as more of a ritual or exercise than an improvisational game as Best and Worst allows everyone in the ensemble a brief opportunity to reflect on their efforts at the conclusion of a more facilitated Postmorterm.

The Basics

Players sit in a circle and one at a time (either in sequence or a random “popcorn” style) share a best and a worst moment from their performance.

Example

Player A volunteers to share first.

Player A: “My best tonight was that I hit the stage with energy and attack even though I was coming from a stressful workday. I’m particularly proud of my well-timed entrance in the high school cafeteria scene. My worst was I let my excitement get the better of me a little in that last scene and I know I talked over a couple of my teammates.”

The Focus

As improvisers grow in their craft it becomes increasingly important to be able to self-diagnose habits and tendencies that are either opening up joyful play or that might be hampering personal or ensemble growth. I’ve found that some players bristle at the “best” and “worst” nomenclature (preferring something less pointed) but I’ve found that this language also reminds everyone that improv is process and that there is always room for celebration and improvement.

Traps and Tips

1.) Best practices as the speaker. Seek specificity in your shares. Saying “I had a good show” or “I didn’t do anything right tonight” is far less helpful than narrowing the scope of your observation to particular choices and moments. Make sure personal bests and worsts are also reflecting on the choices of the current speaker and are not used as opportunities to correct or critique others: “My worst was when no-one let me speak as the janitor in the second scene.” Contributions should also be provided in earnest. Yes, there are some performances when we might feel that we were the lead balloon at the party, but upon closer reflection there is always something worthy of celebration. It’s not really in the spirit of the exercise to give a throw away comment just to get it over and done with. For larger groups I’ve had some success with also doing “best and worst in ten” where players have a gentle cap of ten words for each observation. Those that need more than this limit happily take the time they need, but this approach also encourages and trains brevity which is a great gift during note sessions.

2.) Best practices as the listeners. Above all else, really listen. Don’t feel tempted to chime in and respond to everyone else’s reflections. There are a handful of exceptions to this rule. If someone is being terribly hard on themselves, it’s in the spirit of the ritual to send them some love or support. Also, if you’re leading the company, it can prove appropriate to sometimes carefully use these shared thoughts as broader teaching moments: perhaps someone has articulately expressed a challenge that others have encountered as well, or a player might inadvertently pitch a “best” without seeing that there may have been unintended consequences. (Tread lightly in this second scenario.) Astute players can also use this exercise as an opportunity to support their fellow improvisers down the road by helping them overcome prior barriers or lean into professed strengths. If someone’s worst, for example, is that they didn’t step up and start a scene again, a mindful teammate could facilitate such an opportunity in the next performance.

3.) Best practices as the non-performers. In my campus troupes and productions, we’ll often have players rotate into offstage roles such as house management, lighting, or sound improvisers. If they have participated in a creative role, they may well have a best and worst from this perspective. In other situations, this may be less likely or just less insightful. In these cases, we’ve developed the custom of letting players who were primarily observing the performance offer up a company best and worst such as “Everyone did a nice job tonight cheating out and being seen. I think we still need to think about stage pictures in general though as we had a lot of standing and talking scenes.” Unlike a personal best and worst which should focus on the individual, these play better when they are broader strokes and don’t single out players for critique. (If someone had a rough night, though, a little extra praise here is often a nice touch.)

4.) Worst practices to avoid. If you’re working in a larger ensemble hearing from everyone can take a little while. Make sure players aren’t sending unintentional (or intentional for that matter) signals of impatience or disinterest. Phones and technology should be stowed away, for example, and body language should remain open and engaged. It is vulnerable to share a worst in particular, and fellow company members should avoid dogpiling onto the speaker in agreement or judgment. Every now and again a player might also try to fly under the radar and not participate. This can be tricky to address as you don’t want the exercise to become coercive and there may be a weightier issue at play that might invite a private discussion. But, whenever possible, encourage players to add their voice. If they’re in a post-show funk, committing to sharing a moment of success can help ameliorate the situation at least a little.

In Performance

Sometimes long nights or performance logistics might make an in-person Best and Worst unfeasible. In such cases I’ve utilized an online approximation – although I will openly confess that I like this much less. It’s helpful to clearly articulate the expectations and ground rules if you find yourself deploying this approach: the written word doesn’t always convey nuance well and so participants should be extra careful that their observations focus squarely on their own efforts and not the choices of others. The last thing you want is a long thread of comments that feel like everyone is throwing shade at their fellow players. We’ll often deploy more experienced players as “boosters” who respond with shout-outs and encouragement as needed. It’s also crucial to set and hold to a firm participation deadline as the efficacy of the ritual degrades exponentially as the performance starts to fade into your rear-view mirror. Of late I’ve also explored with my campus troupe an “ick” check as part of the in-person process too which is a more deliberate moment to just make sure choices or material hasn’t brushed anyone in a negative way that warrants attention and address. We strive to do this before our Best and Worst just so it’s given the time it needs and, if it’s a complex discussion, doesn’t become the last taste of the evening.

Connected Concept: Postmortem

“P” is for “Postmortem”

The common improv practice of discussing the successes and stumbles of a performance after its completion.

Thoughts on Giving Notes… and Thoughts on Receiving Notes

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

Related Entries: Acting, Commandment #10, Consent, Ensemble, Rehearsal Etiquette, Sidecoaching Antonyms: Check In Synonyms: Debrief, Feedback, Notes

Connected Game: Best and Worst