ImprovDr.com

“G” is for “Gagging”

Gagging refers to an inclination towards honoring the joke or laugh above everything else in the performance event. Many improv styles find such an attitude destructive and limiting.

When is a Gag Not a Gag…?

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Related Entries: Commandment #4, Pimping, Shivving Antonyms: Endowing, Offer Synonyms: Joke Telling

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2021 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: World’s Worst

While this is currently a seldom-played offering at Sak Comedy Lab where I spend most weekends improvising, the inventive conceit behind Game Lab very much thrived in our Gorilla Theatre show where players have a penchant for taking familiar short-form offerings and retooling them with a new focus or finesse. I first encountered this conceit during my high school improv days but can’t for the life of me can’t recall what we called it back then! If you’re struggling to maintain an air of Freshness in your work, Game Lab offers a loose frame to break away from the grind of over-played standards.

The Basics

I’ve primarily experienced this game as a dueling dynamic between two teams but there is no reason it couldn’t be gently repurposed to serve as a stand-alone game. In the competitive version, the “captains” of each team serve as the facilitators and definers. Captain A obtains an original non-existent game title from the audience, such as “People in Transit.” This captain, perhaps with some brainstorming assistance from their teammates, then improvises the basic rules of the named game: “In People in Transit the team must provide a scene in which characters must always be in or on some form of public transportation…” Team B is now charged with playing this unique improv game for the first time while honoring the boundaries as they have been outlined. The process is then typically repeated with Captain B now returning the “favor” and acquiring a new game title that inspires an accompanying improvised definition.

Example

These two game examples are drawn from two performances I actually still faintly remember many years later...

“Rambo meets Rapunzel” was defined as a fish out of water type scene where the team acquires a well-known fairy tale and a character from a different world entirely that wouldn’t appear in that story or timeline. The team must then craft an original scene that brings these two disparate worlds together. This format had such a unique conceit that I sometimes include it in my Improv I class as an exercise in constructing narrative and breaking routines.

“Three Bears in the Woods” requires my slippery New Zealand dialect for its definition as in kiwi English “bear,” “beer” and “bare” are all essentially homonyms. The rules of the scene mandated that by the end of the scene three conditions had to be met: one character had to be attacked by a “bear,” another needed to be drinking a “beer,” and the third needed to be naked or “bare.” And all of this needed to transpire, as per the title, in the woods. This resulted in a joyfully silly scene, but perhaps predictably has not been added to my repertoire!

The Focus

There is an extremely unpredictable hit/miss ratio with the games constructed in this manner, and this really is the focus. There are no “guaranteed” bits that have been inherited, or experiences in rehearsal to tap into. Players must truly just attack the scenes as scenes and determine the best path forward as a team. This, in fact, should be how we approach all our work as improvisers, but if you’re playing similar games, stories, or tropes again and again, night after night, this sense of true danger may well have subsided.

Traps and Tips

As essentially any game or dynamic can emerge from this prompt, I’ll focus my coaching on the role of the captain or game “definer” as this is a slightly peculiar function that will make or break the experience.

1.) Honor the title. Enjoy the word association component of the game and really use the audience elicited title as your launching point. (To this end, it can be fun to get two or three random words from different audience members so that the resulting game title is truly original.) It’s joyful to see the author’s thought process, so don’t be afraid to voice some possibilities before cementing your final parameters. I’ve seen this process framed as “Oh, yes, I know that game…,” which adds a fun energy as well, as if the captain is actually recalling a game from deep within the improv archives. The process of coming up with the definition can often be as entertaining and exciting as the game that follows, so don’t underutilize this part of the premise.

2.) Use what you know. If the thought of coming up with a completely original game overwhelms you, it can prove helpful to initially draw upon a short-form game or handle that is within your lexicon. People in Transit might recall a “move to talk” dynamic, for example, that you can then shake up. The second part of that statement – “that you can shake up” – is critical as you don’t want to just assign the new title to an old game as that throws away the risk and the promise. But also, freely draw upon what you know as a starting point, especially what is jolted front of mind when you heard the new game title for the first time. Our definitions can certainly benefit from accepting obvious connections and inspirations just as we would within our onstage scenes.

3.) Use what the team knows. Give the team a sound base from which to play. Generally, a definition that allows room for scenic exploration will prove more flexible and “solvable” than a series of instructions that thwart or prevent characters in action: “Each character must face a different direction and is not allowed to talk to or reference anyone else on stage…” As is the case with caller functions, while it appears the captain is providing insurmountable odds, in reality they should be offering delightful challenges and enticing obstacles. Throwing in a musical component for a team that loves singing, for example, will add value in a way that it wouldn’t for a team that struggles to hold a tune on top of all the other restrictions.

4.) And one more thing… Invariably there will be a moment in the definition that the captain will be tempted to add just one more hoop. Almost without exception this final addition tends to overwhelm and stifle any chance of “success.” If you’ve crafted two or three guidelines or facets, that’s typically more than enough. Hastily added “last thoughts,” in my experience, nearly always have a pimping energy or provide the final straw that will break the improvising camel’s back: “And one more thing… everyone has to spend the whole scene crawling on the floor,” “…there are no humans in the scene,” or “…the entire scene happens in reverse.” It’s certainly the spirit of the game to provide rules with an air of mischievousness, but a weighty final adjustment that isn’t in keeping with the tone of the prior elements often scuttles the fledgling scene.

In performance

Few games are more likely to shock you out of your improv rut than Game Lab! So much rides on the definition so it’s worth your time to practice this particular skill before making this a public experiment.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Scott Cook
© 2021 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Freshness

“F” is for “Freshness”

Improvisational performance craves the new and unexpected and so it’s important that we pursue ways of…

Keeping It Fresh…

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Related Entries: Abandon, Commitment, Presence Antonyms: Fatigue, Staleness Synonyms: Excitement, Joy

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2021 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Game Lab

Game Library: “Two Scenes”

Two Scenes is another of those scenic exercises where the title almost says it all, but this dynamic helpfully illustrates and polishes how to craft and move Focus around the stage.

The Basics

Two pairs of players populate the stage and work on half of the performance area each. Both sides are assigned a location or premise: these may be related, such as two adjoining rooms in a house; or may feel more random, such as a subway station and a garden gazebo. A scene is improvised in which focus moves from one part of the stage to the other through careful gives and takes from the players. Each vignette should be given sufficient time to develop and explore before returning the focus once more to its counterpart.

Example

Players A and B are assigned a library as the stage right location and Players C and D have a dorm room. As the scene begins only A and B are present, scanning the shelves…

Player A: “You’re sure we’re in the right section, Anneliese? I can’t seem to find anything on our list…”

Player B: (checking the notes on their phone) “I’m still not sure why we can’t just use digital resources. The professor is so needlessly old school.”

Player A: (pulling a book) “I think we’ve left this too late. This section has been picked bare.”

Player C has quietly entered the stage left area and sat on a dorm bed.

Player B: “Maybe we should split up. I saw some of our classmates loitering around here as well.”

Player A: “OK. You take the high 800s and I’ll take the low. And we can meet back here with what we’ve found.”

Player B: “Sounds like a plan.”

Player A exits in one direction with B darting off in the opposite. As they do so, Player D joins C in the dorm room.

Player D: “Hey, I’m sorry if they hurt your feelings. My teammates can just be dull sometimes.”

Player C: (clearly upset) “No, it’s fine really. It was nice of you to invite me to the mixer.”

Player D: “I really wanted to – I just forgot how different my worlds can be at times!”

Player C: “I didn’t need you to make excuses for me…”

Player D: “I’m sorry, that definitely wasn’t my intent. I just thought that you might not know all our inside jargon…”

Player C: “I come to your games all the time. I’m not completely clueless.”

Player D: (apologetically) “No, you’re right. My bad.”

Player A has reappeared from behind the shelves…

Player A: (whispering) “Anneliese… Anneliese…?”

Player C: “I just want to listen to my music, ok?”

Player C puts in their earbuds and rolls over on the bed while D looks on. Player A continues to lurk and whisper and is finally rejoined by B.

Player A: “Anneliese!”

Player B: “I’m not finding anything. I think we’re going to have to take this up a notch…”

The Focus

This dynamic requires thoughtful focus exchanges as now players must share the work with their immediate scene partner as well as the pair of improvisers across the divide (while hopefully also maintaining an awareness of the audience and the greater story arc as well). Careless or clumsy gives and takes can quickly decay the tempo and dynamism of the work.

Traps and Tips

1.) Err on the side of generosity. A standard observation that applies to most if not all improv scenes is to allow the start of the scene a little room to breathe and find its footing. If you immediately start fighting for the focus – and pulling it back and forward – neither of the two scenes will likely have a grounded balance or routine. Especially in the first “round,” don’t overwhelm the action; it can be helpful for one side of the stage to remain unpopulated initially to this end, so it is abundantly clear which pairing is making the first move. Dynamic focus moves may feel dramatically sharp and sudden, but it shouldn’t feel as if the players are anxiously competing with each other.

2.) Justify and sell the silences. An unavoidable component and challenge of this scene is the silence: if players are sharing the stage time equitably, their half of the stage will need to clearly and quietly give focus for half of the scene. Effective and interesting ways to achieve this sharing will generally emerge from the playing itself but improvisers need to actively explore and apply justifications that help this conceit “make sense.” I typically advocate “soft freezes” when you are not in focus which just means that you keep the action going but without any dialogue or sudden movements that are likely to steal the audience’s attention. Other helpful strategies include sporadically leaving your location or engaging in an activity that requires your concentration, such as thumbing through a library book or listening to your music. As scenes become more heated, it is almost a necessity that gives and takes increase in tempo as it will strain credulity if characters hold intense emotions for artificially long periods of time without dialogue.

3.) Experiment with the focus shifts. In addition to playing with the silent element of the scene, bravely explore how to move the focus in general. Most edit functions (explored here) can work well in this setting: from verbal tags and repeats, to physical entrances and exits, to purposeful gives and takes. As modeled in the written example above, I find gentle entrances a helpful indication to your partners across the divide that you are preparing for the focus exchange. Similarly, announcing a pending exit or foreboding a move to quiet activity allows the second scene to confidently pick up steam. Trailing sentences with the feeling of an ellipses can also serve well as long as the speaker telescopes their intent: “I just don’t know if I can…” It’s likely that transitions will and should pick up as the scenes approach their climaxes; hopefully players will have built rapport and a sense of the scenic flow by this stage of the action so that focus exchanges can occur with brave resoluteness.

4.) Sharpen your awareness. The scenes will tend to stumble and interrupt each other if players do not actively pursue a heightened awareness that values the successes and needs of both scenes equally (after all, they are really just fragments of the one larger story arc). If the “other side” needs a little more time to develop an important plot point or build an emotion, it is in everyone’s interests that you don’t offer an edit unexpectedly out of an excitement to get back to your own storyline. Instead, deploy edits strategically to best serve both vignettes, pulling focus when your partners have reached a plateau or need a re-set, and then offering up the focus with a line, energy, or gesture that they can use within the context of their premise. It’s human nature, I imagine, to focus a little more on our side of the scenic line, but this game offers an embodied opportunity to recognize the import and contributions of the whole team. Also strive to make sure everyone has a chance to lead and follow (and give and take) as the scene unfolds. If one player on either side of the stage tends to always facilitate the take (perhaps in a manner reminiscent of a bulldozer) it’s likely that their scene partner might not have as much room to contribute their voice.

In performance

Once the scaffolding of the game is learnt and understood, there are many possible adjustments and additions to ramp the exercise up yet another level. Content, themes, and even characters can now move from one world to the other in either subtle or explicit ways. You can also adjust the physical positions of the two scenes, perhaps one is now downstage while the other is upstage. I’m also intrigued to play the game with two locations that essentially overlap each other on the stage, but perhaps that’s a challenge for another day!

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Scott Cook
© 2021 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Focus

“F” is for “Focus”

How we thoughtfully guide an audience’s attention to enable more elegant and effective stories.

For Your Focused Consideration…

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Related Entries: Commandment #2, Give, Sharing Focus, Stage Picture, Take Antonyms: Split Focus Synonyms: Attention

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2021 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Two Scenes

Game Library: “Ballet”

As I consider the concept of “running towards Fear” in our improv, it struck me as more than fitting to pair this philosophy with a short-form game that embodies some of my own anxieties as a player. Ballet utilizes the role of a narrator (which I typically love taking on) and the role of dancers (which I’ll often do everything in my power to avoid), and so I’ll use this entry as an opportunity to exorcise (exercise?) some of my own improv angst.

The Basics

One team member takes on the role of a BBC-style commentator (or your national potentially pretentious artsy equivalent) with the remaining players serving as the company of ballet dancers. An inspirational title is obtained: I like getting an animal and terrain feature as a nod to Swan Lake. This also leaps you into a non-human world which encourages a different physical vocabulary than just being people doing busy work in an office building. With the heavy assistance of an improvising musician, or perhaps a fast-fingered technician with a strong stock of suitable classical musical excerpts at the ready, the company dances a balletic masterpiece. Throughout, the commentator provides story descriptions and guidance as well as potential laudatory critique and pertinent background information.

Example

Player A: (as the narrator) “…And the music swells as we return to the second act of Duck Road. The dancers have been in rare form tonight, especially Kuznetzov, and I for one am anxiously awaiting the climactic number ahead.”

The lights rise on Player B who assumes the role of the “duck” as the music shifts.

Player A: “And here is our melancholic hero, the duck, once again stuck on the wrong side of the road…”

With small wing flutters, the “duck” assumes a tragic pose, reaching forward only to be pushed back. Other team members join the fray rushing in front of the nervous animal.

Player A: “The smoky traffic whirls around and around, suffocating the duck with its dense and odorous fumes…”

Player C, as one of the vehicles, starts to physically menace and challenge the duck with sharp and angry movements. The duck retreats at first, but then starts to find some courage. The music shifts again.

Player A: “But today the duck will not lie down and take this. As the delivery truck looms once more, the duck stands its ground in a powerful pas de deux, the ‘dance of defiance’…”

The Focus

As is the case with most formats that are parodies or homages at heart, endeavor to honor the emblematic tropes of ballet – as best you understand them – giving the performance a grander than typical sense of style and passionate exaggeration. Ballet offers rich storytelling opportunities in both verbal and physical mediums so be sure not to throw away the chance to craft a dynamic arc fit for the ages.

Traps and Tips

1.) For the narrator… While there’s no reason that your narrator couldn’t assume a more “of the people” tone and approach, I like leaning into a high status (perhaps even snobby) commentator as this elevates the style of the game even further. This role can easily slide into pimping or a narrative that can feel like it’s at expense of the dancers rather than in awe of them – “…Well, that was a thoroughly mediocre dance…” Consider erring on the side of serving as a super fan, armed with a slew of interesting and random factoids that can contextualize and add value to the action. Do you know other artistic works of the composer or choreographer? Have you been following the careers of the lead dancers with great interest? A device I’ll often use is breaking up the action into various movements or “numbers.” Even if your knowledge of the field is sparse, you can name some key features to help the ensemble: “Now we watch the dance of reconciliation,” or “the dance of anguish,” or “the dance of celebration.” Such titles can quickly and clearly shift the energy and stop the scene from just meandering with generic movement. The narrator can have a tendency to lead much of the scene as they are the only player able to express themselves through language, so also make sure you are following and accepting the bold choices of the dancing improvisers and musician. Embracing longer silences during the larger dance segments helps in this regard: don’t feel the need to narrate absolutely every second of the piece.

2.) For the musician and technician… It is incredibly helpful for the flow of the scene if the musician (or technician) provides a strong variety of accompaniment rather than one continuous unbroken and consistent sound. Character entrances and exits provide a great opportunity to quickly shift the look and feel of the music and lights, especially if this is further enhanced through the narrative and with the announcement of specifically named dances or balletic features. There are so many inherent opportunities to embellish and enrich the action: individual characters can have musical motifs that weave in and out of the greater soundscape; the accompaniment can reference and reinvent familiar classical (and modern) sources; each new entrance can cause a stark shift in musical (and lighting) tone and tempo. Music truly becomes a character in these scenes and provides a vehicle for revealing the characters’ inner thoughts, moods, and turmoil. As the dancers can’t speak, the music and technical effects are critical for communicating intent and subtext.

3.) For the ballet dancers… The game Ballet loses a lot of its charm and potential when improvisers sort of dance in an apologetic fashion. Yes, it’s unlikely that many or any of your ensemble have ballet training, but treating the style and scene with a playful earnestness and seriousness of intent goes a long way. The audience is already impressed that you are willing to attempt such a feat, especially if it’s clear that this is not your strong suit, so displaying a level of commitment and conviction generally lands much better than shuffling around the stage commenting or mugging about your plight. Give the audience permission to relish your struggle. It is certainly important to know your limits – as I quickly approach another birthday milestone there are certainly moves I shouldn’t make now that I would have gamely attempted in my twenties – and no audience reaction is worth risking injury for you or a teammate. But endeavor to move to the fullest degree of your ability and do so confidently. Even if you have a limited range of movement or physical vocabulary, keep your choices specific and intentional: Be the duck or the delivery truck. Don’t just repeat the same ineffectual physical choice again and again. These notes almost assume that you can’t dance, but if you have expertise, obviously bring it to the stage with gusto. Just be wary to pace yourself so you and the scene have somewhere to go, and not to inadvertently become focused on finesse rather than connection and story. Doing the same three moves extremely well every time you play Ballet might not really be challenging your improv chops any more than a dancer with limited ability always doing their same three moves poorly.

4.) For the story elements… All of the improvisers above should ultimately unite in the service of the greater story. The lack of dialogue promotes epic or paradigmatic characters, qualities, and tensions: ballets aren’t generally about small kitchen-sink family issues although that would certainly prove a delightful challenge. Even if you’re performing a relatively abridged scene (this game will easily expand to provide a longer offering if you have the time and stamina), Ballet invites the exploration of a grand journey. Look for powerful and interesting character combinations and get them to dance together. If you’re familiar with the terms, I’ve found that the dances are excellent places to extend the action, with characters exploring and enriching the emotional stakes and energies, while the commentator can advance the story through the narrative, shifting the action from one significant plot point to the next (or acknowledging verbally when a dancer makes the choice to do so). The simple Four Sentence Story model discussed here offers a helpful frame that readily provides structural beats to assist in this endeavor as well.

In Performance

I’ve partnered this game with a consideration of fear, and I fundamentally believe it’s critical for our growth and success as improvisers not to shy away from a challenge when we feel we might not immediately excel. On a personal level, I’ve taken some dance but I’m certainly not the most graceful of movers, yet I should be willing to happily enter the fray as needed. My stumbles may, in turn, elevate the audience’s appreciation for the excellent dancer moving beside me and there is a beautiful gift in enabling a fellow improviser’s ability to shine. Compete, if that’s innately in your nature, for the most improved award, or the most supportive award, or the best background dancer award…

I do also think it’s important to pitch to strength when we are playing in front of a paying audience and if there is an equipped dancer in our midst it just makes good sense to put them front and center in the same way that sometimes the ensemble will be best served by a strong storyteller stepping into the narrator role. As we make these choices in our improv work, however, it pays to be cognizant of what is pushing us in a certain direction and if it is a fear of not being the “best” or looking a little silly perhaps that is worthy of some self-reflection and course correction.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Tony Firriolo
© 2021 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Concept: Fear

“F” is for “Fear”

A debilitating energy.

When to Run Towards Fear… and When to Apply the Brakes…

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

Related Entries: Blocking Antonyms: Abandon, Courage, Playfulness Synonyms: Inaction, Stasis

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
© 2021 David Charles/ImprovDr

Connected Game: Ballet

Game Library: “Advance/Extend Stories”

When introduced to the concepts of advancing and Extending, many improvisers and storytellers will find these dynamics deeply familiar – even if they previously did not have names for them – as they are so ingrained in our shared narrative traditions. Advance/Extend Stories provides a low-risk opportunity to consciously explore and define these techniques so that they may be more deliberately deployed in future work.

The Basics

Players work in pairs. One player (A) serves as the first coach, while Player B acts as the first narrator. I have a deck of well-loved flashcards that I use as prompts for this game with each coach receiving a random location, occupation, and object, but you can also just provide players with a title or similar inspiration. Player B begins telling a fictitious story based on this title or one of the flashcards, striving to create an interesting and dynamic action. As the narration develops, Player A in their role as coach can offer two forms of quick verbal feedback. They can say “advance” thus signaling that as a listener they are ready for the next step in the rising action, or they can offer “extend” at which point the narrator should flesh out and provide more details about the current element. If you’re using flashcards, the coach can use these as visual prompts (revealing them one at a time as they see fit) in addition to using the two verbal nudges. The exercise continues in this fashion until the story concludes. Players then switch roles and receive a new title or set of flash cards.

Example

Player B uses “The Old House” as inspiration for their story.

Player B: “It was a particularly cold night during a winter of particularly cold nights. Just stepping out onto your porch would result in visible puffs of breath painting patterns in the air. Icicles clung precipitously off the roof eaves, and it seemed that all of nature was in hibernation…”

Player A: “Advance.”

Player B: “Amir wrapped his heavy jacket around him as he continued up the winding path. He checked his cell phone once more. It’s low battery light was blinking but it confirmed that he was heading in the right direction: up. The old house suddenly loomed on the horizon…”

Player A: “Extend on the house”

Player B: “Paint was chipping off the exterior walls and it felt at times as if the wind might knock it off its perch atop the hill…”

The Focus

Narrators should strive to craft interesting and dynamic stories that are generously shaped by their fellow player and coach. Given the freedom and encouragement to do so, storytellers explore their own styles and narrative proclivities.

Traps and Tips

1.) Coach with love. It’s important that the coaches value the success and joy of the narrator as their utmost goal. If their suggestions take on a more “gotcha” energy you will likely undermine the story and its teller. Offer the nudges of “advance” and “extend” when you honestly feel they will help the story and maintain or elevate your interest as an audience member. Avoid needless loops or diversions: sure, you could ask them to extend on every facet of the old house on the hill but after a while this will stall the action and bog down the story with minutiae. Coaches should, instead, just trust their honest instincts to help shape a story that appeals to them and maintains their attention.

2.) Explore focused extensions. While the prompt of “advance” contains a consistent message of “I’m ready for something to happen now,” an “extend” can be wielded with a little more precision and finesse. Narrators might stumble across a scenic element, prop, or character that has been left largely undefined. Offering the specific target of your “extend” in these situations proves helpful by asking “extend… on the large tree” or “…on the face in the window.” In this way you can gently shift the emphasis of the narrative and possibly unlock a new potential that the storyteller might not have otherwise polished. This is much more useful than just randomly offering “extend” without identifying any particular facet of interest: you don’t want the author to have to guess what you might have in mind.

3.) Don’t overdo it. When serving as the coach it can feel as if you have to keep providing feedback to the storyteller. If the narrator is on a roll there may be no need to do anything other than enjoy the story for large swathes of time – and that’s okay! Remember that the coach’s primary aim is to set the narrator up for success. Often players will find that merely having these terms brought to their attention encourages them to instinctively advance and extend without verbal encouragement. If the narrator is in the zone, an unexpected or unnecessary adjustment from the coach is likely to do more harm than good, so know that as is the case with all improv, sometimes your active presence and listening is the greatest gift the scene needs.

4.) Take narrative risks. This exercise can prove effective with almost any content or style of narrative so enjoy this open playing field when you rotate into the author position. Tell the type of story that you like to read or hear; create characters that represent your own experiences or passions; explore journeys that appeal to your individual sense of adventure and wonder. Don’t aim too low or simple with your narrative voice especially if you have a strong sense of the tools in play. As we investigate paradigmatic devices that often frame or structure stories as we’ve inherited them, we can simultaneously push and question these very traditions and assumptions.

In Performance

While players may have moments of struggle in terms of a few mechanics or plot stalls, I’ve found that in the vast majority of cases this exercise routinely enables energetic and enjoyable stories. The central premise of balancing action with details clearly applies to all improvisational scenic construction and raising awareness of these techniques will offer an accessible tool for quickly addressing or acknowledging missed opportunities.

Cheers, David Charles.
www.improvdr.com
Join my Facebook group here.
Photo Credit: Tony Firriolo
© 2021 David Charles/ImprovDr

I don’t typically comment on the accompanying image but this is taken from It’s All Greek to Me, a fully improvised Greek tragedy. A standard feature of the piece was the use of odes created by a chorus of ten improvisers where, more often than not, the content heavily rested on the ability to deeply extend. This poetic and descriptive function was very much in keeping with choral odes as they have survived in the extant plays.

Connected Concept: Extending

“E” is for “Extending”

The highly effective storytelling technique of providing nuance and specificity.

Details Worthy of Your Attention…

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

Related Entries: Advancing, Endowing, Heighten, Scene Painting Antonyms: Vagueness Synonyms: Details, Expanding, Specificity

Connected Game: Advance/Extend Stories

Game Library: “Naïve Expert”

In addition to providing an opportunity to work on your Expert skills, confidence and language, Naive Expert is a more seldom played endowment game (at least in my current improv circles) and so more readily retains a sense of freshness and novelty.

The Basics

One member of the team (the “expert “) leaves the space, and an area of expertise is obtained from the audience that might piece together several disparate or unexpected elements, such as Arctic submarine maintenance. Upon the expert’s return, the remaining improvisers host a talk show focusing on the guest of honor and their field of study. Through gentle clues, leading questions, and endowing, the hosts endeavor to slowly reveal to the expert the unknown ingredients. Supporting teammates may also fill in other roles such as audience members, stage management, or show staff. By the end of the scene, the guest should proudly announce their area of expertise (whether or not they “know” what it is), and the interview show concludes.

Example

While Player A is out of the space and cannot hear, the rest of the team assembles the expertise of “high school lunch nutritionist” from the audience. Players B and C assume the roles of co-anchors as Player A returns to the space while music plays, and the lights come up…

Player B: “And welcome back to Early Morning Chats!”

Player C: “We’re sooo excited to have our next guest, the formidable Dr. Moon, joining us on the couch! Let’s give them an ‘Early Morning’ welcome!”

Player A has entered and acknowledges the audience as they take a seat on the couch.

Player A: “It’s such an honor to be here with you both, Noriko and Aki! I’m excited to jump right in and dispel any of those nagging myths…”

Player B: “I imagine you are very pro-jumping in your line of work!”

Player A: “Well, yes, you know what they say: you’ve got to keep active to stay active…”

Player C: “Such timely advice, no matter where you are in life.”

Player A: “Indeed. The young, the old, teenagers…”

Player C: “Who you clearly focus on in your current line of work.”

Player B: (miming a book) “As we can see here in your new book…”

Player A: “Why, thanks for bringing that up. Yes, adolescents can experience particular challenges…”

The Focus

As is the case with most endowment games, the explicit intent is to help the “expert” determine and state the hidden subject by the end of the scene. But that being said, successfully endowing the missing information is really only one facet of the scene, and you can have a highly engaging and entertaining offering that doesn’t culminate in “victory.” Enjoy the struggle of the chase, lean into strong characters and relationships, and explore the inherent story of the expertise (or the close approximation thereof).

Traps and Tips

1.) Avoid all “buzz” words. A good rule of thumb for all endowment games is that the endowers (those with the hidden knowledge) should not explicitly say or do any of the critical elements that would reveal the hidden information. This is the equivalent of telling or using parallel actions as opposed to complementary actions that serve as the bedrock of the dynamic. Any significant piece of the puzzle should be uttered first by the endowee or the expert in this particular case. (I generally shy away from even repeating key words after they have been guessed by the expert as this can similarly puncture some of the magic of the game’s climax). In our “high school lunch nutritionist” example above those four words are immediately off limits, and I’d also avoid anything that is just one remove away, such as teenager, education, food and health. You are more likely to fall into this trap if your focus is solely on getting them to “guess” the correct answer quickly, as opposed to enjoying the potentially meandering process of interviewing the expert and crafting a playful scene. Puns and word play often (rightly) feature heavily in these games, but also be careful of anything that is so obvious there could only be one possible response.

2.) Experts, practice bravery. It’s difficult not to think of these scenes as “guessing games” and this function certainly is a part of the mix, but if they feel like “guessing games” then you might be aiming too low in terms of entertainment value. Experts need to present themselves as experts, with the requisite bravery, language, and attack. It’s important to pace your specificity so as not to paint everyone prematurely into a corner – “Hello, I’m an expert on the planet Mars and nothing else!” – but shuffling around in a sea of vagueness doesn’t help either – “I’m glad I could be here to talk about things and stuff!” Make brave assumptions and assertions. Answers that include one or two strong details provide potential doorways for your partners, so don’t be afraid to offer up the random specifics that jump to mind. Don’t think of every response as an attempt at solving the entire riddle at hand, or you’ll likely hamstring yourself. Rather, listen closely to the way the hosts phrase their remarks and react or free associate with those particular elements. If a line of answers is clearly thwarting and not assisting, also bravely move on and explore a different theme or idea.

3.) Interviewers, seek connections. There can certainly be considerable pressure on the interviewers to keep the scene moving, so I like that this frame easily houses two or more co-hosts that can share this work and thrill! Avoid buckshot questioning that just throws out one clue after another in a disparate (and possibly desperate) sense. I strongly prefer an approach that always seeks to utilize something that the expert has just said (or recently offered), hence the import that experts routinely use specific language. This approach is more skillful and nuanced, requiring flexibility to follow unexpected pathways that pop up. In the above example, “jumping” led to “active,” which led to different demographics and “teenagers,” which then, hopefully, will get us to “high school.” This is a more exciting and dangerous path than just pushing the expert with “So, I hear you have three teenagers at home.” The connection approach is also much more likely to enable a story of sorts, which adds so much to the scene. Remember to avoid using buzz words but be sure to make it very clear when the expert has discovered an important word or element: getting them to repeat it several times generally works well. Other pet peeves in this and most endowment games include a “fill in the blank” approach: “When I was seventeen, I spent most of my day in…” Similarly, a charade or “sounds like” approach feels a little unnecessarily cheap as well and degrades the talk show frame.

4.) Accept everything. It might go without saying, but just in case it doesn’t, it’s really critical in these endowment games to have an attitude of accepting everything as best you can. If the expert offers up something completely unexpected, is there a way to weave that towards your desired outcome rather than just dismissing it out of hand? If the interviewers are using leading questions that push you deeper into the unknown, embrace the risk and forge ahead, trusting that there is likely (hopefully) some method to the madness. The game revolves around determining an absurd subject, so it’s highly likely that there will be some absurd or opaque moves. If players begin to judge or assess their partners’ choices rather than reacting to them with confidence, the game will lose much of its charm.

5.) Sell the ending. I allude to this above, but ultimately, it doesn’t really matter if you get it exactly right at the end of the scene. It does matter that you build to and celebrate a bold finish. Even if the expert thinks that they have no clue as to the specifics of their field, they should celebrate and sell the little that they do know. Often, in a short-form venue, the game may be timed to add an element of danger and stakes. It can serve to fudge that time a little if the team members are in sight of the solution, but I’ve seen endowment games fizzle when a well-intended host is clearly over generous in a way that just lets the scene stumble forward relentlessly. Commit to the ending, sell it joyfully, let the audience revel in how close or far you were in your estimation, and celebrate the journey regardless of the outcome.

In Performance

Nearly all of the strategies I’ve outlined above can be relaxed a little if the action hits a wall. If the scene is limping into its final phases without any headway, committing relentlessly to opaque clues will rarely appeal to the audience nr set the players up for joy. Games of this ilk are often audience favorites; there is something innately delightful about being in the know and seeing someone else fight to figure out details that are now so obvious to you! Depending on the time available and the experience level of the players, adjust the severity of the ask-for challenge, too. Just as a truly impossible expertise might implode, a ridiculously easy target is unlikely to land well if the expert figures it out in thirty seconds.

Connected Concept: Experts