ImprovDr.com

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.

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

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

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

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

Connected Game: Best and Worst

Game Library: “Rashomon”

This improv format is inspired by the classic 1950s Japanese movie of the same name that looks at one event from multiple character Points of View. I know Rashomon as a short-form replay game but, as the source material amply illustrates, the concept certainly has the legs to be expanded into a fuller-length improvisational piece as well.

The Basics

Players improvise a “base scene” prompted by an audience suggestion, such as an important event, dramatic location or pivotal relationship. This first scene, while considered “neutral,” actually provides the basic frame and details for everything that follows. At the completion of the scene, the players then replay this action but now filter it through the point of view of one specified character at a time. While the general “beats” of the scene should remain the same – as is the case for most replay formats – the details are now adjusted to augment and reflect the chosen character’s experience. Time permitting, the scene will then be replayed from the perspective of some (or ideally all) of the original featured characters.

Example

Player A, as an addled parent, escapes into the lobby bar of an urban hotel. Players B and C are two unattached and unencumbered singles, flirting casually over their over-priced drinks. The bartender, Player D, idly pushes their cloth back and forth on the bar as much to pass the time as to actually clean. As Player A collapses onto a stool, Player D notices their dishevelment.

Player D: “You look like you could use a drink…”

Player A: “That’s just one thing on a long list of what I need!”

The Focus

The logistics of this game can be a little tricky to wrap your mind around if you haven’t explored the basic premise and helpful strategies beforehand (which I strongly advise). Rashomon provides an excellent lesson in crafting clear and strong points of view as the game demands that characters are not merely floating aimlessly through the base scene. This notion of shifting the narrative focus also resonates with several performance strategies in the healing arts which reveals the potentials of this frame to enrich a wide range of venues and improv modalities.

Traps and Tips

1.) Plant the seeds. If you don’t establish at least the inkling of an interesting character point of view or attitude in the base scene, the resulting replays can become quite the struggle. This isn’t a good scene to play casually with low stakes and minimal attack (mind you, few scenes do well with this deadpan approach). As I’ve demonstrated in the example above, characters should hit the stage hot with some energy or potential deal, even if this changes considerably as it combines with the ideas of other teammates. In addition to having some sense of your own deal – “I’m an overworked parent who craves the simpler days of my youth” – make sure you also keep an eye out for the deals of others as this is equally important for the later replays. Early scenic choices should exude emotional intensity while keeping specifics largely in the subtext rather than text. If you are too explicit in the first iteration there will often be nowhere new to go down the road. This might go without saying but just in case it doesn’t, players who don’t appear in the base scene can’t easily contribute to the reenactments, so if you elect to remain in the wings, make sure your teammates have built a promising improv edifice that doesn’t need you. If you do pop in for a brief Canadian Cross or nudge, also be aware that it’s in the spirit of the game for your perspective to become the focus of a replay too, so have something in your pocket.

2.) Don’t get caught in the weeds. Part of the delightful contract of replay games is that the foundational elements of the scene should generally remain intact. If Player A enters the bar, is served by the bartender, interacts with the young couple B and C, receives a phone call from their babysitter, and then orders a double to drown their sorrows, these basic pointers should frame everything that follows. That is not to say that the nuances, dialogue, and action might not change considerably – and in fact one hopes that they will – but keep your foundational parameters in mind as you play, deviating from them out of strength rather than from a fuzzy recollection. Extremely verbose scenes can prove challenging for this reason: consider action that is rich with emotion instead. As players scroll through the new replays, it’s important that they work toward a common end. If the bartender’s original subtext was that they are overworked and everyone takes them for granted, try to establish this game quickly and clearly in their reenactment so that everyone can elevate this particular point of view. Perhaps Player A originally responds with “I’d like a gin and tonic” but now this becomes “I’d like you to solve all my problems, but I won’t tip you well.” If your character is featured early in the scene, it helps the whole team if you make a brave move that others can then mirror (hence the import of paying close attention to the first scene so you have a sense of what others might have been pitching).

3.) Water others’ gardens. One of my favorite features of this format is that it requires players to heighten the points of view of their teammates in order for the replays to flourish. Improvisational philosophies often stress tending to our own deals, at least initially, and this structure palpably reminds us that games only thrive when we all play them together. When you cycle through the replays, the heavy lifting generally falls on the shoulders of the characters and players who aren’t in focus as they are responsible for selling the narrative shift. In many ways the featured player primarily serves as the “straight” character responding honestly to others’ choices while maintaining the established trajectory of the original template. While I recommend hitting this shift in perspective quickly and clearly, don’t drown the new protagonist in a tsunami of well-intended suggestions; rather, build and complicate the story one patient step at a time. The replays specifically benefit from making sure the focused character has sufficient time to receive and process each new move, hence the import of not creating a needlessly frenetic baseline. If in doubt, it proves helpful to ask yourself “how does the featured character perceive me or my actions” as you adjust the tonality and delivery of your dialogue. Players B and C who may have been just mildly annoying originally with their youthful entitlement, now might feel their passions are being brutally extinguished by those who have no place in a hip hotel bar when we experience the world through their eyes.

4.) Pick the ripest crops. Every character needn’t have a turn in the focus hot seat although this can become the expectation depending on the way you introduce the game and the rhythms of your particular performance. Admittedly, there is certainly something innately satisfying about getting to glimpse into everyone’s head at least for a moment. If you’re new to this game or the base scene feels a little underdeveloped, grab an easier character as your first focal point so that you (and the audience) have a chance to warm into the central dynamic. (Deploying a caller can also steer the selections based on what they feel was landing well which takes a little pressure off the cast to make split second decisions when they may not have a good sense of the bigger picture yet.) If a character feels marginal either in terms of their scenic function or, frankly, their ability to land a definitive point of view, you could either skip them or strategically place them in the middle of the replay pack. I’d just advise not leaving them until last in case there really isn’t much to harvest: you don’t want a stumbling reenactment as the final taste of the scene for the audience. Characters that are occupying similar or parallel functions, as is the potentially the case with the younger bar goers above, can also combine into one replay, especially if time is a consideration. Ideally, keep a character whose implied game has the strongest potential for your curtain call as it can be a little off-putting when the replays burn brightly initially only to fizzle when the game finally reaches the finish line. Often it can prove delightful to save the most featured character – likely Player A in our bar scene – until this last position for that reason, although I will confess that I’ve also seen strong teams slay by putting the most minor character into this final slot as well.

In Performance

Rashomon has sadly fallen out of my own rotation a little as it requires some focused rehearsal time to get a grasp on the logistics at play, and the game (as is the case with most replay formats) requires sufficient room to expand which makes it difficult to program when strict time constraints exist. However, I value this game as much for what it teaches about subtext, points of view, active listening, and elevating the choices of others as I do for the results it can garner on the stage. Don’t become disheartened if you feel a little stumped or clumsy in your first efforts: the mechanics of the game can put you in your head initially. Perspectives (an earlier Game Library entry you can find here) can serve as a helpful prequel if you’re looking for a user-friendly way to warm-up your improv brain for this particular challenge.

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

Connected Concept: Point of View

“P” is for “Point of View”

This phrase – sometimes abbreviated to POV – refers to the specific way your personae approach the world, their primary attitude or “deal” if you will.

Find Your Point of View By…

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Related Entries: Comedy, Emotional Truth, Game of the Scene, Love, Objective, You Antonyms: Passenger, Passivity Synonyms: Deal, Perspective, POV

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

Connected Game: Rashomon

Game Library: “Furniture”

Furniture affords an opportunity for focused physical play on the part of the titular role. As one player spends the scene quite literally in the hands of their teammates, it can also invite Pimping when not approached with attentiveness and care. Beware!

The Basics

One willing player volunteers to serve as the physical embodiment of all the props and furniture pieces needed for the scene. Other players carefully deploy their teammate as the scene unfolds, using and reusing featured stage props to help color and inform the story. The furniture performer may use their whole body to represent larger objects, or just a limb or similar for smaller items, especially when more than one object is currently in use. As is the case with stage combat methodologies, the furniture should primarily remain in control of their own choices and movement.

Example

Player A volunteers to serve as the “Furniture” and the location of an antique store is suggested by the audience. As the lights rise, Player B is standing behind what will become a counter.

Player B: (under their breath) “Another slow shift. Time to close up for the day.”

Player A uses their body to create a counter in front of B and offers up their hand to serve as a rag. Player B gently accepts this offer and begins to (carefully) dust the counter. Player C and D, a married couple, stand at the edge of the stage and C taps on an unseen door.

Player C: “I’m not sure if they’re still open, honey.”

Player D: “I think I can see someone in there.”

As Player B leaves the counter to move to the door, Player A drops their prior position and quickly moves to create this entranceway with their body. Player C is now gently tapping on Player A’s back.

Player C: “Is anyone there?”

Player B: “Yes, sorry, I’m coming.”

Player B fidgets to find their keys, which become Player A’s hand and is then used to unlock A’s body/door that laboriously swings open.

Player D: “We’re so sorry if you were closing up, but this is our last day in town, and we’ve been eyeing that beautiful grandfather clock in your window all week…”

Player B: “No problem at all.”

Player C: “Everyone here is just so pleasant and accommodating!”

Player B leads the couple over to the shop “window” as Player A quickly assumes the guise of the aforementioned clock, swinging their arm in a predictable rhythm before them.

Player B: “You certainly have excellent taste. You just don’t see this kind of craftmanship anymore…”

The Focus

There is much fun to be had from the playful interaction between the furniture performer and the other characters in the scene. Keep an eye on the stage geography, remembering where key items have been created and stowed, and don’t neglect to also create interesting relationships and a dynamic story. The furniture gimmick is just that and won’t carry the scene on its own.

Traps and Tips

1.) Keep the furniture safe. I still have a very visceral memory from one of the first times I watched this game over thirty years ago. The scene took place in an abattoir (or butchery), and the furniture actor took on the role of a hanging carcass. A mischievous actor came up and cut off one leg, which the furniture actor lifted up in response. After a moment of playful contemplation, the actor decided to cut off the second leg that was now holding all of the furniture actor’s weight. The second player bravely (?) then lifted up their second leg and thumped down onto the stage on their knees. A small part of me as an observer was impressed by this level of complete acceptance and commitment; a much larger part of me was deeply concerned that I had just watched an improviser terribly injure themselves. (Luckily, they had not.) The moral of the story: don’t put the furniture into jeopardy. Look to challenge and inspire the player assuming this role but always keep their safety front of mind. They shouldn’t be faced with either maintaining the integrity of the scenic reality or preventing themselves from getting injured. This tension, in essence, is the crisis at the center of pimping.

2.) Don’t needlessly list. It’s important that scenes don’t exist in a nowhere land; subsequently, it’s helpful to get a promising location (or prop-heavy occupation) as the prompt. While players should strive to keep their furniture teammate suitably occupied, sometimes this intent can manifest itself in a proclivity to suddenly list all manner of objects within the space whether or not they are of any immediate use or interest. Such an approach rarely adds anything of value, as it just sends the furniture careening from one ill-defined pose to another. (There is a potential exception to this rule noted below.) Allow sufficient time for each new item to become fully realized and detailed. So much of the charm of the game is seeing how a human body might become that counter, or door, or clock, or purse… Throwing out too many objects, especially at the top of the scene, typically stifles the creation of nuance and the little embellishments that can then fuel the story needs of the scene. Does the grandfather clock’s pendulum swing erratically calling into question its accuracy? Is the door to the store overly cumbersome and decrepit in a way that reflects the store in general?

3.) Furniture should follow and lead. Traditionally, this game tends to cast the furniture largely in a responsive role, waiting for other improvisers to declare or describe their needs before stepping in to creatively address these offers. The furniture, subsequently, becomes the exclusive target of the playful torture, very much at the whim of their scene partners. This isn’t necessarily problematic, especially if there is excellent rapport between the players and a clear sense that challenges are being pitched and received with graceful abandon. If endowments move into pimping territory, however, it can quickly feel a little icky, and this discomfort can increase further if there are perceived power or status inequities between the performers. (Be extra careful not to actually push the furniture around the stage trying to get them to be one thing after another as well – rather, change your line of focus and let them move freely of their own volition.) It’s really important that the furniture player is clearly excited and equipped to assume this role so that it doesn’t feel coercive in any way. It can delightfully even the scales if the furniture also clearly leads some (if not many) choices. They should feel empowered to just create a new item in the space that now others must utilize and justify or breathe unexpected details or malfunctions into their prompted physical creations.

4.) Reuse and recycle. Avoid cluttering the location with a needlessly voluminous array of inconsequential objects. As the scene matures, however, there is a great deal to be mined from strategically returning to prior creations at opportune moments. If the couple finally elects to purchase the grandfather clock, do we now see this wheeled over to the counter, and then finally through the previously established front door with each sequential step requiring the furniture performer to reprise their earlier roles? There is by no means a perfect number of props for the scene, but once you start dancing into the double digits you are probably reducing the likelihood that everything can be clearly remembered and reused (hence the trap of listing props randomly as the scene begins). Returning to prior furniture pieces as the scene progresses prevents this clutter and has the added advantage of allowing the featured player to really lock into their physical choices and endowments while building upon any discovered games. So, if you’re a “regular” character, don’t feel the need to make every line of dialogue about a new prop. Let these emerge and reappear as the story dictates.

In Performance

It can prove helpful to think of the furniture player as the celebrated “star” of the scene as opposed to the hapless victim. This player needn’t necessarily possess gymnastic abilities, but the game is certainly served by featuring someone who finds excitement in expressing themselves through movement. Make sure endowments balance safety, silliness, and story, veering from anything that the furniture (or audience) might view as pimping or painful – as recalled above, you don’t want to figuratively or literally pull the legs out from under another improviser. If in doubt, apply the golden rule of improv which is not so much “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” but rather “do unto others as you know they would prefer to have done unto them.”

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

Connected Concept: Pimping

“P” is for “Pimping”

Getting an often-icky laugh at your teammate’s expense. It’s an unpleasant term for an equally unpleasant and unwelcome improv habit.

Do this instead…

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Related Entries: Commandment #4, Gagging, Shivving Antonyms: Endowing, Offer Synonyms: Selling Out

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

Connected Game: Furniture

Game Library: “Animal Kingdom”

I’ve written a little about this handle in my Game of the Scene entry here, but Animal Kingdom offers a multi-layered approach to Physicality and relationships that warrants its own featured consideration. I’ve frequently seen players whose standard mode of operation is to just stand and talk really open up and own the stage when playing this animalistic game.

The Basics

This scene is often framed as a party but there’s no reason you couldn’t apply the conceit to a broader array of scenarios. Prior to the scene, each player obtains a different animal from the audience. This is generally done with all players present as there is considerable value in everyone knowing each other’s suggestion. Players construct a scene in which they utilize the physical, verbal, and motivational qualities of their assigned creatures as the basis of their unique characterizations and relationships.

Example

Player A, who has been assigned a “hummingbird,” and Player B, who has the suggestion of a “sloth,” begin the birthday party scene. Player B is preparing the space while Player A stands in the corner.

Player A: (frenetically) “The room is starting to come together. Have you hung up the ‘Happy Birthday’ sign yet, Nick?”

Player A flutters over to Player B who is fumbling with the sign in the corner of the room.

Player B: (painfully slowly) “I keep getting my fingers stuck on the tape. I need some help.”

Player A: (irritated) “I can hang it up. I can do it.”

Player A grabs the banner and has zipped away before Player B can even protest.

Player B: (painfully slowly) “Oh, okay. Thank you, Rina. Your brother is going to love this party!”

Player A has finished hanging the banner by the time Player B has finished their sentence.

Player A: “Let me get you some punch. It’s very very sweet. Just the way I like it!

Player B: (painfully slowly) “You’ve done so much. I can get my own.”

Player B arduously makes their way over to the punch bowl one excruciatingly slow step after another while Player A sets up the rest of the room…

The Focus

Mine the animals for every possible ounce of inspiration! While characters should ideally still read as “human,” the various animals should be readily recognizable through their actions and energies.

Traps and Tips

1.) Seek animal variety. I’m intrigued about the possibility of exploring this scene as one class of animal, such as four different kinds of big cats (lion, tiger, snow leopard, cheetah…) but generally the game benefits enormously from animal diversity. I find it helpful to build this into the structure of the ask-for, so perhaps the first player gets a mammal, the second a bird, the third an insect, and the fourth something from the sea or ocean. It’s certainly fun to incorporate less expected critters but if no-one has any sense of the animal’s behavior then you’re probably not setting the corresponding player up for success. It can also be effective to get one apparent spoiler in the mix, such as a fictional or mythical beast, as this will often set up the team for a strong surprise or final entrance.

2.) Mirror your approach. If you consider a scale from one to ten with one being completely human and ten being completely animalistic, this game tends to thrive in the mid-range. If the application of the animal essence is so subtle that the audience struggles to recall the source of inspiration, you’re probably under-delivering on the charge; if characters are essentially animals without the ability to speak or communicate, then it’s unlikely you’ll be able to craft a scene of any nuance. It’s a helpful anthropomorphic approach to consider “if this animal were a person, then how would they move, talk, or behave?” Similarly, if one player is working at a four on the scale noted above, and then their scene partner enters as a nine or ten (perhaps they are a dolphin and flop around on the floor making clicking sounds) the scene typically gets irrevocably wonky. Although, I admit, under the right circumstances this might be a rather wonderful button or climax! Usually, however, the scene benefits from everyone attacking their animals to a similar degree.

3.) Prioritize the relationships. This game tends to garner a lot of pleasure so players will instinctively want to rush the stage to get in on the scene. Try to resist this temptation in favor of pacing your entrances and generously sharing the stage. Much of the reward of the dynamic comes from clearly seeing the animals in various combinations. Our hummingbird and sloth seemed to have a friendly relationship even if Player A was annoyed by B’s inactivity. What happens if a more predatory animal enters the mix? Or a potential mate or rival? A loose Entrances and Exits approach works well, namely assuming that the scene will typically have two characters on stage at a time. (If you’re not familiar with this game, you can read about it here.) Smaller scenic units also give the audience a better chance to really process how you’re utilizing the animal energies. And when you pace your entrances, you can also strategically hold onto particularly interesting or explosive combinations.

4.) Set each other up. Essence work can put you into your head a little if you’re not careful which doesn’t create the most ideal improv conditions. Once you feel you have a good handle on your own character point of view and function, make sure you’re also actively looking for ways to help your teammates shine. (Note that this requires that everyone actually remembers the various animals informing the scene work.) Yes, Player B as the sloth can probably find their own games for the duration of the scene, but it’s even sweeter when others pitch thoughtful offers and obstacles that allow the “slothiness” to emerge. Well placed endowments and activities can greatly enhance the charm and playfulness of the scene, and when improvisers are able to look beyond their own character deal the story can truly crackle.

In Performance

To return briefly to my arbitrary anthropomorphic scale above, applying varying degrees of essences to a character can prove surprisingly useful and resilient. When played with characters at a level of five or six, you’ll likely craft a physically robust short-form game with an array of uniquely peculiar personalities. A one or two would subtly infuse a character with intriguing behaviors suited to a more dramatic or realistic enterprise. Pushing the scale to a nine or ten opens the door to dance-like explorations with little or no language at all. Such an approach could inspire a non-realistic fever dream, epic ballet (serious or whimsical), or serve as a developmental exercise to encourage heady players to boldly communicate nonverbally.

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

Connected Concept: Physicality

“P” is for “Physicality”

How we use (or, less ideally, don’t use) our full bodies in the onstage action.

Tactics for Increasing Your Physical Vocabulary…

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Related Entries: Character, CROW, Game of the Scene, Space Objects, Verbal Skills, Where Antonyms: Talking Heads, Telling Synonyms: Movement, Showing

Connected Game: Animal Kingdom

Game Library: “Double Speak”

I’ve known this game by many names – most of which haven’t stood up well to the tests of time – and the word-at-a-time dynamic it showcases also serves as the central device of many related short-form games and warm-ups. Double Speak demands that improvisers are truly present and connected and, as such, provides a fitting exercise for addressing both Bulldozer and Passenger performer patterns.

The Basics

Two players self-nominate to work closely together as one character for the duration of the scene, alternating words in their dialogue in a word-at-a-time fashion. Other players perform without any verbal or physical restrictions and should address this featured character as a singular entity.

Example

Players A and B decide to form the featured character and wrap arms around each other’s waists. They receive the occupation of “plumber” as the initiation, and as the scene starts, Player C (as an individual character) invites A/B into their house…

Player C: (in a panic) “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice…”

Players A and B talk as one character, quickly alternating words...

Player A: “You…”

Player B: “did…”

Player A: “the…”

Player B: “right…”

Player A: “thing…”

Player B: “calling…”

Player A: “me.”

Player A extends their right (free) hand to shake Player C’s as Player B holds an imaginary tool box.

Player A and B (continuing to provide one word each in sequence) “I’m… Victoria… of… Victoria’s… Plumbing… Now… show… me… the… source… of… the… problem.”

Player C: “It’s my kitchen sink. Water is just gushing everywhere!”

The Focus

In some ways, the mark of a successful Double Speak game is that everyone just attacked the action as if it were any other unimpeded scene. There is obviously an added challenge for the word-at-a-time character, and these improvisers should be given a little extra love and support as they navigate the verbal and physical hurdles that the game will invariably throw at them. It’s also generally poor form to name or point at the explicit game too much: the more other players or characters inelegantly call out the odd behavior of the “Double Speaker,” for example, the more likely it is for the energy of the scene to become tepid.

Traps and Tips

1.) Verbal pointers for the Double Speaker. Some little things first: make sure you consistently talk about yourself as an “I” rather than a “we” as the premise is that both improvisers are embodying the one character who just happens to have two contributing minds. It’s helpful to have a designated first speaker so that when you are beginning new sentences you don’t have to continually negotiate who will go first – constant sentence false starts just increase hesitancy which is the enemy of the game. Be mindful of needless air between your words or searching for the “perfect” contribution: it’s better to say your immediate thought, no matter how clumsy it is, and trust that others in the scene can justify it later if need be. Stalling or excruciatingly plodding speech will quickly make the game rather unwatchable. On a more macro level, just attack the language and work to infuse it with subtext, nuance, emotion, and inflection. Don’t allow yourself to become robotic or so measured in your speech that you’ve lost the risk of surprising yourself and your scene partner. This is most definitely a “leap before you look” type of situation.

2.) Physical pointers for the Double Speaker. Find a way to comfortably but strongly connect to your partner so that you can move through the scene as one: this might be arms around each other’s shoulders or waists, linking arms, or holding hands depending on need, pandemic conditions, and comfort levels. Remember that this game has both the verbal restriction of word-at-a-time as well as the physical restriction of two characters connecting and moving around as if they were one. As players focus on the verbal communication component, it becomes easy to neglect your physical presence within the scene, which is a huge loss: make bold gestures, grab specific mimed props, and complete multilayered everyday activities. So much fun can be had watching two improvisers trying to coordinate their free hands to complete otherwise mundane actions, such as pouring a cup of coffee, or driving a car, or taking off a raincoat… Keeping a dynamic physical presence also maintains energy for those moments when your scene partners are talking or if you need a second to reset when the words just aren’t coming. To this end, it’s really helpful to get a physical hobby or multilayered action as the scene ask-for so as to encourage full-bodied acting.

3.) Verbal pointers for the other characters. By design, the Double Speaker should emerge as the scene’s focus or protagonist, so make sure you are making your offers with this reality in mind. Especially at the top of the scene, the pair may need a little extra verbal room to find their flow and groove. Be extra wary of interrupting them as it’s often not a simple matter for them to just pick up where they left off. A good rule of thumb is that if you’re talking more than the featured players you should probably pull back a little, or maybe even find a reason to leave for a while so that they have more stage time to explore and get themselves into and out of trouble. It’s so easy to accidentally use plural pronouns for the Double Speaker as well, so be mindful of how you address them or introduce them to others in the scene.

4.) Physical pointers for the other players. This strikes me as an oft under-utilized component of the scene that can add a great deal of dynamism (and a little bit of playful shivving!) Lean heavily into the physical reality that the Double Speaker is one character. If you offer them a seat, offer them one seat so that they need to negotiate that obstacle. When fellow players overly accommodate the physical restrictions (which is always done with the best of intent), the team and audience are robbed of watching players solve unexpected challenges in real time. Stumbled upon physical connections – a handshake, high five, or hug (with consent) – frequently add mischievous delight to the scene. As always, you’ll want to be careful that the action doesn’t solely become one pitched torture after another: give the scene room to find its footing and earnest direction. But unencumbered players should be sure to capitalize on the inherent gifts of the physical world and endeavor to enrich this component of the scene as best they can.

In performance

Word-at-a-time games are essentially a sub-genre of improvisational short-form, and so there are numerous variations that build upon this base such as Epistolaries, Word at a Time Crime and several Experts frames. (Word at a Time Story can serve as an obvious warm-up to these games, which you can read about here.) In terms of this particular game, there are two additions that can up the heat a little once players feel comfortable with the basics. Double Double Speak incorporates two characters that consist of two players each engaging in the verbal restriction. This requires additional attack as you no longer have “regular” speaking actors who can more readily justify or weave glorious mistakes into the greater narrative. Double Blind Double Speak adds yet another level of risk (and perhaps a little danger). Not for the faint of heart, this iteration has one half of each character combo close their eyes for the duration of the scene so that now, on top of crafting dialogue one word at a time, they are making their physical choices in the dark, relying on their partner to keep them safe while incorporating these moves into the mix. This requires a heightened level of trust and abandon, and those who are performing with their eyes open must keep everyone safe for the duration of the scene above all else.

I pretty strictly play these games with the word-at-a-time handle, but there are equivalent scenes that use a “one voice” dynamic where the partnered players must sound out each word together as they are formed. (Epistolaries, in fact, usually has one letter writing couple use word-at-a-time while the other speaks in one voice.) For the purposes of exploring issues of bulldozing and passengering, however, I strongly prefer the approach discussed above. Word-at-a-time requires aggressive players to release the illusion of control as every second word is coming from elsewhere, while more timid players have to contribute each time the sentence winds back around to them and make a quick and connected choice. The one voice versions can help in this regard as well, but my experience has been that when players are left to their own devices, passengers will tend to defer to a strong lead and bulldozers will happily steer whole sentences or more to get to their intended destination. In this way, one voice variants can almost seem to reward these bad habits as they provide a quicker path to “successful” dialogue than the clumsy initial process that should occur with the two players negotiating almost every word and sound together in the crucible of the here and now.

Connected Concept: Passenger

“P” is for “Passenger”

While allowing another improviser to take the lead in a scene can be an act of generosity, a Passenger tends to withhold their own creative spark, thereby making others do all the generative work.

Ways to Jump into the Driver’s Seat…

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

Related Entries: Commandment #3, Commandment #8, Take Antonyms: Bulldozing, Steamrolling Synonyms: Passivity, Wimping

Connected Game: Double Speak