Game Library: “Story, Story Die”

I first learned this game as a fast-paced decider, but since have also played it as a frame for an entire set with each “death” becoming the inspiration for a lengthier scene. Either way, Story, Story Die suitably flexes your story and listening muscles.

The Basics

Players form a line. The host or emcee typically serves as the facilitator and positions themselves in front of the improvising storytellers. A title is obtained and when players are pointed to by the emcee they must continue the story narrative. As the lead moves from player to player, new narrators should pick up exactly where the prior speaker left off. If a narrator falters, repeats, stumbles, or otherwise impedes the progress of the story in an unpleasing way, the audience calls “Die” (or makes a game show buzzer sound) to eliminate the offending player. The exiting player might perform a brief death ritual or scene. Generally, the story then resets (I tend to begin a new chapter) and the process continues until only one remains victorious.

Example

The story is inspired by the title “Lost in the Forest.”

Player A: “It was an unseasonably hot day in the woods behind Fatima’s house. She’d wandered aimlessly into the…”

The caller shifts the focus to Player B.

Player B: “…dense trees, oblivious to the time, and without bothering to look for landmarks that could led her back to the fam…”

The caller shifts the focus to Player C.

Player C: “…ily home. She was in the mood to explore and couldn’t be bothered with such things. A pleasant stream caught her at…”

The Focus

Endeavor to tell a good story. Allow the eliminations to come when they will by playing bravely and with grounded presence.

Traps and Tips

1.) Thoughts about the storytelling. Yes, this game generally needs players to go out, but it is so much more impressive if you also get a good story along the way. Don’t start with a manic energy or let the fear get the better of you. Establish strong specifics and a unifying voice and tone. It’s helpful to tell the story in the third person, create a clear protagonist, and take small steps. A strong introduction, platform, or balance (depending on your preferred terminology) will set everyone up for success. Especially if you’re playing with more than a handful of players, the story will likely last a while and move through multiple chapters. If nothing is clearly established or built upon, it can quickly just become a clutter.

2.) Thoughts about the transitions. Make sure you’re paying close attention to the caller or facilitator. When their hand or focus moves away from you, immediately stop talking. Much of the fun comes from players finishing each other’s sentences or words in unique or unexpected ways and if you quickly try to cram in that last idea or phrase that you really wanted to say, you’re actually robbing the game of much of its delight. Similarly, when you are the new designated speaker, grab the narrative thread right away, avoid repeating the last word or two (this is a legitimate reason for being called out) and aim to continue developing the narrative arc. Each death also provides a natural reset moment when the conductor can move the story to a new chapter so as to provide a clean (but connected) start. It can serve to offer a brief story recap here too if the action is becoming unwieldly and needs a little help.

3.) Thoughts about the conducting. Look to pace the challenge from round to round. I like to start rather leisurely, allowing players to get a full sentence or two out as the story first takes shape. This stops the narrators from becoming needlessly jittery and tends to give you richer material that grounds the later chaos. Once the story has some bones, then ramp up the speed and unpredictability of the shifts. If the players are truly excelling – which is a wonderful problem to have – you can then deploy other challenges and “fouls” to increase the likelihood of an out, such as forbidding “and,” “or,” and “so,” as transitional words on the passes (or just altogether), or banning words that start with or feature a particular letter of the alphabet suggested by a random audience member. I tend to scale back my aggressiveness if the story is faltering too much as no one really wants to hear minutes of panicked nonsense, so strive to balance the needs of the story and the desire to find an eventual winner.

4.) Thoughts about the deaths. I’ve seen (and enjoyed) a wide variety of approaches to the eliminations. On the simplest level, players can just accept the call and leave the stage. Sometimes when we play this for Halloween-themed shows on my home campus we might just add the simple choice of having the person slump in place to the ground so that the final narrators are now talking amidst a pile of their former teammates. Depending on your audience, time restraints, and personal sensibilities, some companies have departing players get an ask-for to inspire a quick pantomimed death. And as noted above, you could also lean the format into long-form territory by having the deaths expand into full-blown scenes that culminate in the demise of the losing player. At Disney’s Comedy Warehouse the “award” for winning the whole shebang when it was used for an entire set was then completing the story in a style or manner of your choosing, which gave a lovely climax to the story and show.

5.) Thoughts about the style. It’s a simple matter to theme the story to your particular event needs or audience demographic. In addition to embracing one overarching style to steer the narrative, once you’ve mastered the central dynamics it can also prove fun to have each narrator tell the story through their own unique lens. In this manner, one player might be telling the story as a detective novel, another in the style of science fiction, and yet another as a young adult fantasy. Particularly fearless improvisers can have the audience assign these styles before the story begins, but it also works well for players just to select a genre with which they are familiar, announcing their choice beforehand. If you’ve played this game a lot, this little adjustment will breathe new life into the stories, just make sure you’re still really listening to each other and picking up the narrative where you partner left off. There can be a tendency to retreat into your mind in search of the next useful trope and then just shoehorning it into the mix when it’s your turn regardless of whether or not it serves the story – avoid that whenever possible!

In Performance

Especially if you’re hoping to tell a good story (and why wouldn’t this be your goal?) be mindful that this decider can take a little while so perhaps limit the number of players in the mix. If you’re playing with more than four or five, you might end up burning more time than you intended.

Or you can also just remove the elimination feature entirely, which moves the warm-up into Conducted Story territory!

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

Connected Concept: Story Series for Improv I

Game Library: “Statues”

Players will find themselves in odd positions in this justification classic.

The Basics

Team members (typically four) spread across the playing field. Audience members (or an opposing team) have a limited amount of time to quickly pose each improviser’s body into a specific pose. The sculptors then leave the playing field. A location or inspiring ask-for can be gathered by the host (or players can use nothing more than their positions to launch the action). One at a time, plyers unfreeze and come to life, justifying their prior statuesque positions as important facets of the unfolding story.

Example

The team stands onstage at the ready, and four audience members place them in dynamic poses as the host leads a ten-second countdown. Amongst other components, Player A has been modeled to cover their eyes with their hands, Player B is lying on the ground with their hands over their chest, and Player C is crouching upstage behind a large block. The volunteers leave the stage, and the host decides to grab an ask-for – “cemetery” – before the lights fade to start the scene.

Player A: (stumbling forward as they become animated) “Okay, I’m trusting you, but this is really the strangest first date ever.”

Player C: (from behind their block, jovially) “Just a few steps more, and you can open your eyes…”

Player A: “And you’re not going to give me even the slightest clue as to where we’re having our picnic…?”

Player C mischievously darts behind another obstacle to prolong the game, just as B, a seemingly dead body, slowly starts to reanimate much to C’s shock.

The Focus

Enjoy the challenge of really using your poses in connected and important ways as the building blocks of a unified scene. This format shares a great deal with Scene from Music (discussed here). The mechanic for finding the opening positions is different, but the tools for successfully incorporating those poses remain largely the same. So, review this earlier entry to further expand on the concepts below.

Traps and Tips

1.) Make the most out of your poses. Use every detail of your assigned pose to the best of your ability. It’s anticlimactic (and not particularly helpful to the scene) if you quickly drop the essence or energy of your position just to do or say that thing you wanted to do or say anyway. When the poses really shape the characters, action, and story, the game will similarly deepen and expand.

2.) Make space for your teammates. It’s helpful to think of every unfreeze moment as a unique form of character entrance. Once you’ve found a way to justify your physicality, make sure you’re keeping an eye out for others who are in the process of doing the same. If you sense another player coming to life, give them focus so that their choice can be seen and heard by the cast and the audience. Excited over-talking will rob the scene of these pivotal moments (and the company of the innate gifts contained within each justification).

3.) Make every unfreeze count. Players might find themselves quickly joining the fray within the first few beats of the action, but generally, the scene benefits from patient and disciplined additions. I’ll often play this game as a one- or two-minute scene, and in these cases, it’s common to have at least one player remain unutilized until the climax or latter portion of the story. When you pace entrances deliberately, each new entering character can help advance the story to its next exciting moment. When everyone panic unfreezes in a clump, you’ll often meander to the end of the scene without the gift of an expertly timed reveal or discovery.

In performance

For a fun twist on the game, consider Reverse Statues where players must end up in the given poses rather than start with them. Once positions are set, players can start the scene on- or off-stage as they wish. (Just be careful not to set up a bunch of furniture in the countdown that will then get in the way of achieving the desired tableau. If you want a more dynamic arrangement of blocks or set pieces, put these in place before cast members are assigned their random positions.)

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

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

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Spelling Master”

A fast-paced, team building, test of skill and wit, Spelling Master (Whiz or Expert, if you prefer) will put your through your paces.

The Basics

The host or a fellow player serves as the facilitator; the remaining improvisers form a line and become the “master.” (Four to six players seems to work well.) Answers begin with the stage right player allowing the team to respond to prompts provided by the emcee. Generally, a series of words are solicited, and each is spelled and defined in turn in the following manner. First, all players repeat the chosen word in unison. Next, players spell the word (as best they’re able) one letter at a time. The team then repeats the word in unison. This is followed by a prompt from the host (such as asking for a definition, the word’s etymology, or using the word in a sentence) which is completed one word at a time. Finally, all players button the process with one more unison repetition. The host then gathers a new challenge for the master.

Example

The host gets “Wheelbarrow” from the audience.

All Players: (in unison) “Wheelbarrow”

Players A, B, C, D and then back to A in sequence: (one letter at a time style) “W. H. E. E. L. B. A. R. R. O. W.”

All Players: (in unison) “Wheelbarrow”

Host: “Use it in a sentence.”

Players A, B, C, D and then back to A in sequence: (one word at a time style) “When. You. Have. A. Lot. Of. Wheels. To. Carry. You. Should. Use. A. Wheelbarrow.”

All Players: (in unison) “Wheelbarrow”

Host: (to the audience) “Well done. Who has the next challenging word for our expert…?”

The Focus

Assume the mantel of the expert and work together (playfully) to bravely attack each element of the game.

Traps and Tips

1.) Start confidently. As there are quite a few components to the game (albeit reasonably simple ones), make sure you have your head in the game. The host can do a lot to “conduct” the various stages, and when you get to the individual constructions, it’s good form to always start with the stage right player so that there’s no confusion who’s providing the next contribution. The unison moments are also great opportunities to build and sustain energy, so don’t let these become perfunctory.

2.) Listen closely. At its core, this game demands the skillsets of most word-at-a-time formats. If the sentences (or spelling sections) become ponderous or fearful, there won’t be much entertainment value for the audience. Retreating into your head, or trying to preload your next letter or word, will invariably just create a messy or stalling energy. Instead, fight to stay in the moment, pursue reactivity, and really hear and use the prior offers of your teammates.

3.) Play smartly. Pet peeve alert: I get really annoyed when the spelling sections just become players throwing out completely random and clearly unlikely choices, so that “wheelbarrow” now has a bunch of inexplicable Qs and Zs in it. Take the risk of really trying to spell each word. If the team gets it right – especially when you move into more complex words – then that’s quite impressive, especially if you were brave and fast along the way. If the team honestly stumbles, then that’s quite charming too for the audience to see everyone try to recover and adjust. When players just treat the spelling as a gimmick, then the stakes of the game become essentially zero. Risk letting the audience see you fail with a smile and good spirits! The same philosophy holds true when you get to the sentence-building round. Endeavor to use the language and syntax of dictionaries or find the unexpected (perhaps punny) meaning or context. If prior words reappear in later definitions, that’s a fun finesse, too.

4.) Build purposefully. As the host, you can really help or harm the arc of the game. If all the words are impossible (or you always start with or feature antidisestablishmentarianism), the format won’t have much shape or repeatability. When I facilitate the performance, I like amping up the challenge each round by asking for particular levels of challenge – perhaps a kindergarten-level word, followed by grade school, middle school, high school, and finally a college or SAT-level offering. In theory at least, this will allow players to warmup a little before tackling something more daunting. Similarly, you can vary the “speaking” round prompts to keep the exchange interesting. I’ve included my three standard go-tos in my description above but be on the lookout for discovered patterns and games as well. For example, if you just got a challenging SAT-style word, it might be fun to ask for the SAT question in which it appears…

In performance

I tend to use this participatory game in the earlier portion of a short-form match as it models the concepts of improv while also allowing players to get in the zone before tackling more complex scenic work. With strong in-show coaching, it can also easily house a few volunteers in the mix if you’re looking for ways for audience involvement.

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

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Speak, Grunt, Shut Up”

I feel back in love with this short-form game when I recently introduced it to my R&D cast at Sak Comedy Lab. It’s a variation of a Zones format (see here) where players are variously allowed to Speak, Grunt or Shut Up depending on where they’re standing.

The Basics

The stage is divided into three zones – generally a stage right, center stage, and stage left strip. Each zone is randomly assigned one of the three titular speech styles, and a location or premise is determined. Within the scene, players must honor the limitations of the blocking, and speak, grunt, or shut up, as assigned. (“Speak” allows normal dialogue, “Grunt” consists of utterances or non-word sounds, and “Shut Up” requires true silence.)

Example

The zones are staged and determined, and the players are given the inspiration of babysitting. Stage right is speak, center stage is grunt, and stage left is shut up. The scene begins within a babysitter (A) standing center stage, pounding on the locked door of their charge (B) who is sitting on their bed, stage right.

Player A: (trying the locked handle, again, to no avail) “Arrggghhh…”

Player B: (looking indifferently at their phone) “This is my room, and I don’t have to let you in here…”

Player A knocks again accompanied with another frustrated grumbling sound.

Player B: “How long are you going to keep that up?!”

Another knock and snarl. Player B, clearly annoyed, stomps their way to the door, and in doing so, crosses into the “grunt” zone. They unlock the door before confronting their babysitter.

Player B: (snarling) “Arrrrrrrrr!”

Player B continues to the kitchen, stage left, where they begin to (silently) make themselves some cereal.

Player A lets out a heavy sigh before joining B in the kitchen…

The Focus

Explore and enjoy the various gifts of each zone. This game demands the skillful use of subtext, staging, and emotional specificity.

Traps and Tips

1.) Set the stage. Literally. If you have it, arrange some furniture strategically before the scene begins. Perhaps there’s a chair to stand in for the child’s bed stage right, and a block stage left to represent the kitchen bench. (Even better, place items so that they span two different zones just to maximize staging potentials.) So much of this game involves justifying your staging, and it’s difficult to do this if the scene exists in a nowhere land with nothing to anchor each area. Similarly, it’s helpful for the players and the audience to have visible markers for where each zone transitions to the next (stools, cones, mic stands…). The easier these markers can be seen, the more dynamic and sharp transitions you’ll enable.

2.) Use normal blocking. There can be an (understandable) tendency to move to the area of the stage that will allow you to engage in the type of speech acts that you most want to use as the character. And, to some limited degree, this instinct can serve. But generally, the game and scene take off when you just move through the space as you normally would and then justify the speaking rules that are in play. Talky improvisers, in particular, can tend to just place themselves in the “speak” zone and largely stay there, which doesn’t really honor the spirit of the dynamic. If our babysitter, in the above example, just wants to talk, they’re likely to walk into the kid’s empty bedroom with little or no motivation. If they want to win over or connect to the child, then following them into the silent kitchen makes much more sense, even if it delightfully raises the verbal challenge.

3.) Throw the ball. Also, be especially mindful of generously sharing the focus between characters and zones. Just because someone is currently parked in the silent area, doesn’t mean that their character doesn’t want to respond, or isn’t tempted to do so. Allow room for these non-responses, just as you would for a fellow actor who is likely to articulate their next move. Don’t mistake the “speak” zone as an “always speaking” zone – you’ll want to be particularly careful here that others have sufficient room to make strong and meaningful contributions. On the other end of the dynamic, don’t mistake the “shut up” zone as an “unenergized zone.” Characters located here should have strong emotions and objectives as well – they are just choosing not to say them out loud for a reason you need to find and justify. Acting and talking over each other, like in any “regular” improv scene, won’t help you in the long run.

In performance

Played with patience, you can craft a delightfully nuanced scene with this seemingly restrictive overlay. Yes, there are times that you’ll justify first – coming up with a perhaps less-than-elegant reason to move into that zone of the stage so you can make that choice that you really want to make. But when you flip the switch and allow yourself to move more naturally from set piece to set piece and then work to find your verbal (or non-verbal) justification, the scene becomes more magical and enticing.

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

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

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Spacejump”

This is another flashback to my high school improv days with United TheatreSports. I’ve seen the game used as a larger all-play warm-up, but my first experience with the format assumed a four-player team, and that’s what I’m outlining below. I’ve woven the example through the definition for clarity.

The Basics

An initial ask-for is obtained that serves as the launching point for a solo scene from Player A.

Player A begins in a kitchen, stressing over getting an important “first date” meal just right. As they are straining the pasta in the sink…

A second player (B, in this case, though the order shouldn’t be set ahead of time), calls out “Spacejump” which freezes the action. This offstage player then enters the stage and uses the existing physical pose to inspire a completely new scenario.

After calling “Spacejump,” Player B enters and quickly takes A’s outstretched hands, endowing the existence of a small bird that has fallen from a tree. “You did the right thing getting me, son…” Both characters carefully construct a small bed out of cotton buds and just as B begins to feed the bird with an eye dropper…

A third player, C, repeats the process and announces “Spacejump” when a new, interesting position has been created. They now join A and B and initiate a whole new premise that incorporates the given physicalities in a whole new way.

Player C assumes the role of a pedantic professor and nervously observes their incompetent students. “Now, if you’ve done the experiment correctly…” The two students explain their incompetence as the chemicals react in an unanticipated way, forcing the three scientists to dash behind the counter for cover…

The fourth and final player, D, gives the cue to freeze the action, and then places themselves into the image, beginning a fourth unique story – in this case four teenagers breaking into a principal’s office to perform a senior prank.

Player D, holding up a key, “It took me a lot to get Principal Enos’ key. You’ve got all the toilet paper…” The scene continues with the four students making their way into the office and covering everything with toilet paper, until…

When all teammates have entered the scene, the game shifts to becoming exit driven (rather than entrance driven). Instead of freezing the action, the last player in now cues the scene change by coming up with a justified reason for an exit. When they successfully leave, the remaining players freeze for a moment, before returning to the prior scenario.

Player D hears a noise and runs out of the office to investigate, leaving A, B, and C behind. After a second of transition, the action return to Player C’s premise…

Players A, B, and C are now standing outside the remains of the science building, justifying their prior poses in the process. They bemoan the disastrous experiment, until C leaves to inform the Provost…

Players A and B now remain in new poses which they incorporate into B’s world of the rescued bird. Parent and child now release the chick back into the wild. B realizes they have forgotten their camera, and they rush offstage to get it…

Player A now remains in a new pose but in their original world, the kitchen. They put the finishing touches on their special meal, before there is a knock at the door. They make themselves presentable, and announce “Coming…”

Blackout.

The Focus

The mechanics of this game, though a little complex to digest initially, are closely related to Freeze Tag structures (here). Subsequently, you’ll want to pursue clear freezes, strong justifications, and physical bravery throughout to keep the energy and risk high.

Traps and Tips

1.) Pace. Give each scene its due. There can be a tendency to rush the entrances if you’re not careful, but you’ll want to make sure the vignettes have enough detail to stand on their own feet. Without memorable relationships and specifics, there won’t be a lot to draw upon when you rewind through the four scenarios on the way back to the original scene. Often, the pacing when you’re revisiting the scenes helpfully becomes a little tighter, but don’t surrender to this rush too quickly.

2.) Move. It’s standard advice for all freeze/justify games, but make sure you’re prioritizing the physical world of each environment. This doesn’t mean just wandering aimlessly around, or engaging in over-the-top action that doesn’t connect to anything or shine light on your characters, but if you’re inclined to a talking heads style of play, the spacejumps can become a little anticlimactic if the poses all start to feel same-y. (And, as is the case with all justifying scenes, be wary of replicating the previous action in the following vignette – a dancing duo shouldn’t just become a different dancing duo with a coach…) It’s also good form to make sure everyone has had an opportunity to justify (and perhaps change) their position before cueing the next adjustment.

3.) Jump. Especially when you’re adding players, make sure you’re honoring the “jump” in “Spacejump” and get yourself onto the stage quickly and with energy. It’s okay to then have a moment of joyful frozen terror as you figure out your first move. (Incoming players should be given the right of way to define the new world, so no one should generally move or speak until you understand the arriving player’s idea.) My standard advice for freeze games holds true here as well in that you’ll be better served by pausing the action at some generically interesting moment, rather than waiting until how you know what you want to do with the scene. Invariably, waiting until you’ve got your idea will result in the poses moving beyond that moment anyway and then it’ll look like you’re forcing an old choice into a new situation.

4.) Leap. And also embrace the leaps and bounds of the scenes themselves. One of the greatest gifts of the growing and shrinking nature of the game (an alternate name for the structure, as well), is that a great deal may have happened between the first and second appearance of a premise. It’s generally accepted etiquette that players should assume the same characters as they embodied when each story was introduced (so B should still be the parent, and A the son when we get back to our bird rescue scene), but you can be much more inventive when it comes to the place and time. In this manner, our scientists reappear in the rubble of their laboratory, and our bird keepers flash forward to when the animal has full recovered. When you scroll back through the scenes, it’s kind to allow the “owner” of the premise to make the first choice just to enable these types of creative moves.

In performance

As the long-winded explanation above reveals, this is a bit of a tricky game to describe efficiently to an audience, so don’t get lost in the minutiae. Concentrate on the key dynamic – that you’ll be improvising a series of scenes based on unique poses – and trust that they’ll pick up the other pertinent elements as it goes.

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

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Sound Mirror”

Get the proverbial improv party started with this musical jamming session.

The Basics

Players form a circle to begin.

Round one

Player A begins by creating a repeated and steady musical and rhythmic choice and “sets it” to a predictable beat. Once this has become uniform, they turn to Player B and now both players share and voice that one musical contribution. Once B understands the logic and essence of A’s choice, they then craft a new sound pattern that complements its predecessor. Both players jam until they are happy with the combination and then B offers up this sound to Player C to mirror and join. Player C now repeats B’s offer before introducing a new melodic or rhythmic choice of their own. In this manner, everyone in the circle establishes a new musical thread after mirroring that of the prior player.

Round two

Once everyone has their own musical strain going, players are instructed to break the circle and move freely around the space. Improvisers jam with other sounds in the soundscape while maintaining the initial integrity of their own choice.

Round three

After sufficient exploring has occurred, the facilitator instructs everyone to return to their original spots in the circle. The musical jam session is then deconstructed in reverse order, so if P was the last improviser in the circle to create their sound, they are the first to go quiet upon the facilitator’s prompt. Then Player O, then N, and so on, until the exercise culminates with Player A repeating the original contribution one last time.

Example

This is a little hard to model in a written medium, but the sequence would start off something like this…

Player A: (singing in tempo) “Ba cha – ba cha cha cha. Ba cha – ba cha cha cha…”

Players A and B: (singing in unison) “Ba cha – ba cha cha cha. Ba cha – ba cha cha cha…”

Player B: (while A continues with the above) “Dooooo bada. Do do do do do…”

Player B then turns to C while A continues.

Players B and C: (singing in unison) “Dooooo bada. Do do do do do…”

The Focus

This warm-up helps push musical boundaries while also reminding players that music which doesn’t strongly connect to prior choices will quickly devolve into cacophony. (How’s that as a metaphor for just improvising with each other in general?!)

Traps and Tips

1.) Mirror. It’s right there in the game title (!) but the exercise will quickly become chaotic if players don’t really take the time to sync in with their predecessor in the circle. When the group is in the zone, this overlap can become quite brief and uniform, but don’t let a prior pattern prevent you from taking a little extra time (or a lot of extra time) if you need it in order to adjust your musical offering so that it fits well with what’s already happening. Unhelpful rhythmic battles, or discordant wails that aren’t massaged early on in the process will quickly cause untold and compounding havoc further done the line.

2.) Project. For those who may be a little more anxious about musical games – and singing in general – it can prove tempting to take the smallest risk by almost whispering your addition to the soundscape. Such an approach to the game will have an odd effect on the overall experience if each added voice starts to actually diminish the overall volume – keep marching towards a group crescendo! As is the case with most big ensemble warm-ups, you’ll want to share the acoustic space, so once you’ve boldly crafted and set your vocal line, pull it back a little so that others can hear their new additions more easily. (And then, when round two hits, pump up that volume again!)

3.) Push. If you have a strong background as a musician, bring that expertise and confidence to the game. By all means play to the top of your musical intelligence, just be wary that the next person in line will need to understand and replicate what you’ve done, so perhaps leave that more advanced musical theory at home if you’re working with a lot of novices. Do, however, notice and address what might be missing from the orchestration if others will be less inclined or able to make those assessments. If everyone is doing something rhythmic, offer up a soaring melodic thread. If everyone is starting predictably on the “1,” perhaps introduce a little syncopation or contrast. When new and playful dynamics are introduced, others are more likely to learn and emulate them further down the line.

In performance

If you have some folks who are a little musically challenged, it can be an act of service to the ensemble not to start with them so that a more confident voice can offer up the baseline that the group will then use as the core of the exploration. If you’re looking for another similar warm-up, Sound Mirror can serve as a nice lead in to Musical Word (here) which explores a lot of the same dynamics and skills but in a slightly speedier and more free form fashion.

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

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Sound Ball”

Embrace the moment and the give and take of improv with this high-energy warm-up.

The Basics

Players form a circle. One begins by passing a random and supported sound across the circle with a clear physical take. The receiving player then catches this spontaneous sound by repeating the offer to the best of their ability before allowing the energy to immediately change into a different sound that they then pass clearly across the circle to a new recipient. Sounds are caught, repeated, then transformed in this manner with increased attack and abandon.

Example

Player A sends a “whoosh” across the circle to Player B.

Player B receives the offer by recreating the “whoosh” (both verbally and physically), and then sends a “cha-cha-cha” to Player C.

Player C echoes the “cha-cha-cha” before transforming it into a “shazam” and directing it to Player D…

The Focus

Receive, react, respond, repeat.

Traps and Tips

1.) Seek energy. There can be a tendency to offer up the smallest or safest sound for the group, especially with newer companies or players, so challenge yourself to play the game with gusto and full commitment. If participants expend the minimum amount of energy, they will predictably receive the minimum amount of reward.

2.) Seek acceptance. Do your best when mirroring the choice of the prior player. (While there are “no wrong choices” it’s probably unhelpful to make that peculiar noise that only you can make for this reason as you want to set up your partners for joy.) The action of repeating the prior choice can feel a little alien at first, as players want to rush to their own idea, but this practice of truly seeing and hearing the offers of others provides an important lesson and tool.

3.) Seek inclusion. This is standard advice for all ensemble games that include some element of random choice, but make sure you aren’t excluding anyone from the sequence. If you’re working in a particularly large group, it’s wise to break up into multiple smaller circles of 10-16, as many more than this can cause the game to lag. Also, seek inclusion in terms of ability and limitations. While the exercise promotes spontaneity, it’s certainly in the spirit of improv to craft an offer that you know the intended recipient can use without discomfort or embarrassment.

4.) Seek speed. Again, this can be a rather inelegant measure of a game’s utility, but if the momentum falters or never quite seems to leave the starting gates, this usually indicates an unhelpful level of thinking, planning, and assessing. Sounds don’t need to be gobsmackingingly original or unique; prior choices might become recycled or serve as the inspiration for current efforts; players might (will) inadvertently pass along the selfsame noise they just received on occasion. None of these “fumbles” ultimately matters. If you’re struggling to find a fun and risky speed, the concept of “hot potatoes” can help, with players striving to hold onto the focus for the shortest amount of time as possible.

In performance

This game shares a lot of terrain with the language-based Word Ball which I’ve considered as a variant of the mainstay Word Association exercise examined here. Most of the pointers listed for these games certainly apply to the current undertaking.

And you can mine the library for the multitude of other fun improv warm-ups here.

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

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Song Scene”

I first came across this structure at Disney’s Comedy Warehouse where we were fortunate to improvise alongside some truly world class musicians (and technicians, for that matter). More recently, it inspired the first act of an R&D Show at Sak Comedy Lab, where we take a short-form premise and expand it to make a 40–50-minute set. It plays with devices similar to those found in Song Cue (here) but allows the players a little more wiggle room between the musical moments which invites a wider array of styles and encourages patience in story building.

The Basics

For the short-form version, three random, original song titles are elicited from the audience. Generally, these are written on large sheets of paper and placed on the lip of the stage (or on an accessible clipboard to the side) as it’s a longstanding challenge to remember the later titles once the scene is up and running (!) so it’s smart to have the prompts visibly available. (The musician will want to note the song offers so that they don’t miss the pitches from the stage either). An additional scenic location or inspiration might also be obtained, and the team then begins an impromptu scene. At opportune moments – often marking the beginning, middle, and end of the action – players work their way to an unused song title which then initiates the creation of an accompanying musical number. The scene ends when all the generated titles have been used in this fashion.

Example

The offered song titles include, “It’s never too hot for coffee,” and the scene begins at a water park. Players A and B set the stage by resting out on deck chairs before an imagined wave pool.

Player A: (wiping the perspiration from their forehead with a beach towel) “These temperatures are unbelievable. I’m regretting our choice to summer in Florida…”

Player B: (smiling while looking out at the pool) “But the kids are loving it, darling. This is a memory they won’t soon forget.”

Player A: (rolling closer) “Will you re-apply my sunscreen? I can feel myself cooking…”

Player B: (it’s the third time) “I suppose you can’t be too careful.”

Player B reaches to take one last sip from their stowed cup.

Player A: (astonished) “Coffee? On a day like this?”

The music starts playing…

Player B: “You know what I always say…”

“If the moon is out, or the sun is up,
You know what I’m gonna need in my cup!
You might laugh or get all scoff-y,
But it’s never too hot for some steaming coffee…”

The Focus

Create the need for the various songs and work to make the titles significant and meaningful to the dramatic (or comedic) arc.

Traps and Tips

1.) Build. As is often the case with these written examples, I’ve had to jump to the relevant material quickly to model the core dynamic. If you’re playing the original 4-5-minute version, you do need to establish details quickly to leave room for the songs but, nonetheless, invest in scenic and relationship details to give yourself something of note to serve as your launching pad. Your songs are less likely to pow if they are just throwaway gimmicks that don’t further the world and lives of the characters.

2.) Risk. Again, the above example starts about 2 steps away from the known song title, and there will certainly be times when you need this kind of simple conciseness. But generally, it’s more fun for the players and the audience not to just plod from one inelegant song setup to another. Instead, let the scene go where the scene organically wants to go, and then, when the time feels ripe for a musical embellishment, look to pivot towards the next viable title. Even if you end up miles away from the intended targets, there is great fun to be had from seeing the sudden scramble to line up the next known cue that isn’t easily and obviously in front of the cast already.

3.) Contextualize. To balance the above fearlessness, also take full advantage of the fact that the three (or more) song titles are known before even the first improv choice has been made. This allows players to display greater finesse with what the lyrics might mean within the context of the scene. Above, coffee has been used to just mean the drink, but it could also become the name of the couple’s dog, or the flirty waitstaff bringing refreshments, or the vacation spot’s name… You’ll want to be careful of driving the scene mercilessly towards such a left-field choice regardless of the story needs (or just retreating into your head to plan something overly original in general), but a few earned surprises can go a long way to breathing new life into potentially mundane justifications.

4.) Strategize. Lastly, strive to set yourself and your fellow collaborators up for joy and success. It’s less fun if the same actor ends up justifying, starting, and serving as the lead singer for every title – aim to share this wealth around. If B has taken the first song as a solo, then perhaps A takes the lion’s share of the next number, and their currently unseen children might join for a rousing ensemble piece to close. Make sure you’re getting into each musical number clearly and cleanly: don’t leave your musician guessing if an oddly phrased line was intended as their cue. And if you’re mentally able, give a little thought as to the sequencing of the songs – they needn’t just appear in the order they were gathered. Sometimes there’s a clear choice for the “out” – perhaps a particularly pithy phrase, or silly word, or challenging lyric. Or if you’re stumbling a little, it can be kind to use that “impossible” title as the middle number so that the finale has a better chance of selling.

In performance

For good or evil, this musical game can tend to run a little longer as the onstage team has more control over when (and if) they want to move onto the next musical moment. (This internal calling also invites a much wider array of stylistic energies, which I love as a player.) If you’re committed to slating this in a fast-moving short-form competition, songs will need to be pithy – no longer than probably a verse and chorus. If you’re fortunate enough to have some room to let the scene grow, you might find yourself with something considerably more robust on your hands.

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

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

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Soap Opera”

Large characters and outlandish desires form the stylistic bedrock of Soap Opera.

The Basics

One piece of furniture (such as a chair, stool, or block) is designated as the triggering device for the duration of an over-the-top scene. For the duration of the action, whenever a character makes contact with the chosen item, an off-stage player provides their deepest thoughts and secrets as a voice-over (perhaps on a microphone). When physical contact ends, so too does the accompanying narrative. Players utilize revealed thoughts as the story continues through multiple subtextual interruptions.

Example

The team receives two elements from the periodic table as character names (Carbon and Beryllium as well as a family business (funeral home) to launch the action. A chair is placed stage right and designated as the subtext trigger.

Player A: (standing with great dramatic energy at the lip of the stage while mixing their martini with a straw) “So, you finally decided to show up to work, Carbon…”

Player B: (in the doorway, while looking scoldingly at their sibling) “Why must you always mock me, brother? You know I don’t have a heart for… funerals.”

Player A: “I’ll never understand you, sister. This business has been good to us both. It has paid for everything you’re wearing. What, exactly, do you have a heart for…?”

“Player B: “And why would I tell you that, Beryllium? So you could use it against me?”

Player B approaches the subtext chair and lays a hand on it.

Player C: (voicing B’s thoughts on a microphone) “It’s not easy being the younger child, the overlooked child. All of this will go to my brother, our parents’ favorite. What will I get…?”

Player B removes her hand, causing the subtext to stop with equal abruptness.

Player A: (putting down his drink) “We have a new client coming in today. I’d like you to take the lead.”

Player B: “Is this some kind of joke…?”

The Focus

Play the text. Play the subtext. Play the scene.

Traps and Tips

1.) Embrace the style. You needn’t deploy my periodic title name gimmick above but find some way to launch yourself into the overtly dramatic world of soap operas. (Elemental names are just so deliciously ridiculous!) There are many other games that can use subtext to more nuanced ends; this offering thrives on bold moves from bold characters and bolder still plot points.

2.) Share the spotlight. Obviously, there’s a lot of fun to be had with the subtext furniture piece and the accompanying offstage narrative, so make sure you’re providing everyone with appropriate opportunities to have their thoughts revealed. It’s a good rule of thumb to make sure that everyone gets at least one strategic moment to utilize the device, even if the rhythms of the scene favor one character a little more than others. As the scene approaches the finish line, it can be a little anticlimactic if an important character hasn’t had a chance to have their subtext and secrets voiced. Also, be sure to justify your staging choices: don’t just wander to the special chair when you want your subtext to be heard.

3.) Help the narrator. The narrating position can be both daunting and exhilarating as it’s quite the task to come up with dynamic choices for everyone in the heat of the moment. To this end, don’t expect brilliant subtextual ideas to emerge from nothing. As the characters, make big choices and endowments rich with undercurrents and emotion so that the narrator can heighten, invert, or disrupt your intentions. Make sure the scene has a solid foundation before expecting your offstage scene partner to bring the comedic heat.

4.) Challenge the narrator. And once the scene is up and running, you can (and perhaps should) torture the narrator a little as well. Characters can toy with when (and if) they are going to touch the assigned piece of furniture and then play further with the duration (and interruptions) of their contact. This is perhaps a “trick” of the game, so I share it here with caution, as you shouldn’t play the stock gimmick at the expense of the uniquely discovered game, but as the offstage voice can exert a considerable amount of sway on the story arc, it evens the playing field a little if the team playfully pushes back. (It’s helpful for the cueing item to be a furniture piece for this reason, as it encourages different ways of connection.)

In performance

You’ll want to have an able and excited narrator in the mix to bring out the sharpest hues from this dramatic outing. Strive to lean into the tropes of the base genre (ideally with some loving critique or whimsy). Love triangles, hidden identities, and impassioned revelations are likely to become frequent and popular elements of the game.

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

Game Library Expansion Pack I

Game Library: “Smelly, Sexy, Funny”

I really enjoy the way this dynamic immediately sets up strong points of view that enliven the stage action and jumpstart energized relationships.

The Basics

Four improvisers are needed for this scene. As part of the performed setup, they form a semi-circle in front of the audience and close their eyes. Each actor is then instructed to randomly select a different one of their team mates to embody one of the three titular qualities. (Players should clearly point to the chosen actor in question as the facilitator scrolls through the three options.) For the purposes of this game, Smelly indicates that a character is boring, uninteresting, or mildly off-putting, Sexy suggests they are enticing, appealing, or captivating, and Funny describes those who are viewed as humorous, silly, or perhaps pleasantly peculiar. In the resulting scene, players must endow these pre-determined qualities to their teammates while simultaneously figuring out how their scene partners feel about them. The dynamic works well as an office party or similar but needn’t be limited to this type of premise.

Example

Four players (A, B, C, and D) complete the opening ritual (with their eyes closed) and assign one of each of the given qualities to a different teammate. An office retirement serves as the premise and Players A and B volunteer to begin the action as the lights rise.

Player A: (viewing B as boring) “Jordan should be getting here shortly. Are you going to help hang up the decorations?”

Player B: (springing into action as they see A as sexy) “I’m sorry. I got distracted. I love the color scheme you’ve chosen.”

Player A: (disinterested) “It was just the packet on sale. I’m going to check on the refreshments…”

Player B watches A leave with a sense of devotion while C quietly enters and smiles at B’s presence.

Player C: (viewing B as funny) “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it. I thought you might have been on one of your business trips.”

Player B: (their energy changes as they have assigned C as funny as well) “Oh no! I don’t think this party is going to be big enough for the two of us!!!”

The Focus

Commit to your chosen energy and point of view and then allow the relationship energy to define and deepen the character connections. If you think too much about the why of each endowment, you’ll run out of time to explore these justifications in real time.

Traps and Tips

1.) Don’t fudge your initial choices. When I first played this game, we didn’t typically reveal our endowment choices to the audience before the scene started, but I’ve grown to appreciate this ritual as it makes players publicly commit to a decision. There can be a (misplaced) temptation to adjust your endowments when you discover what energies others are sending towards you, but this type of hedging can syphon a lot of the attack and risk, and there generally isn’t enough time to ill-informedly consider the “best” option. Enjoy the randomness and trust that it will open sufficient doorways to joy.

2.) Don’t get stuck on stage. This is another of a long list of games that thrives on shuffling character combinations. If characters get sticky feet and don’t share the stage, it becomes difficult to see the full variety of relationship energies. I generally recommend an Entrances and Exits strategy in these situations (see the game entry here). In short, this game thrives on two-people vignettes, although there is certainly a value in letting the story climax with everyone present once the audience has had a chance to meet and decipher the pertinent energies. If you’ve had a chance to endow each of your teammates, in particular, giving the stage will allow others the same courtesy.

3.) Don’t name the game. While this is perhaps only loosely an endowment game (as players work to unlock hidden information), a lot of the fun resides in pursuing the nuance and subtlety of each relationship. Avoid saying the key words whenever possible, as this usually hamstrings anything complex. The audience generally savors the sub-game of trying to identify the energies at play for themselves as well, so if this information becomes spoon fed, the scene can feel wanting. And, as always, there should be a story threading the scene together, too.

4.) Don’t needlessly limit yourself. When I teach this game, I like to unpack the three core traits as much as I’m able, providing rich synonyms and variants (as I’ve done above). Yes, smelly can obviously mean odorous, but it opens up the dynamic if it can also mean dull, or unpleasant, or unappealing. Seek this level of inclusiveness as you play. It’s great fun when two characters coincidentally share the same approach, but it’s equally joyful when unexpected takes on the qualities hit the stage. You’ll just want to make sure your choices are clear and readable as you don’t want the audience spending the whole scene wondering which of the three energies was in play. It can help for the host or facilitator to define the three emotions in a more complex manner for the audience before the game begins to help in this regard.

In performance

Relationships tend to form quickly and vibrantly in this whirlwind of a scene. If you find yourself stuck in similar or repetitive dynamics, you will find this game encourages you to form quick and bold assessments of your fellow characters.

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

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

Game Library Expansion Pack I