"Oscar Moment" is not a new improv exercise, but it is a less common one that I think deserves attention. It's a rehearsal tool that reminds players that you can still have quality, realistic acting in improv! It is also a chance to open up the "emotional floodgates" and learn that it is okay to take the spotlight once in a while. The name suggests those sixty-second clips of nominees on Oscar night. Here's how:
Decide beforehand who will get the "moment" in a regular two-person scene, and then have the coach (or someone from the sides) shout out, "Oscar Moment!" when they feel it coming (even if the scene is two people making sandwiches). Then an emotionally intense monologue ensues, worthy of an award! (Plus, if this realistic drama takes place during sandwich-making,it could be incredibly funny). The coach (or other players)can call "scene" when that monologue feels concluded (the tendency is after a minute or two), or let the scene continue with the scene partner. I like stopping right afterward and talking about how it felt and what people saw/felt as they watched. Usually this monologue is spoken to your scene partner, but if you feel like telling the audience, go for it! However, it can be really rewarding to be on the receiving end in this exercise. You get to support your friend's choices with your reactions. You could certainly verbally respond during the "Oscar moment", just remember that you'll get your turn, so help your partner shine.
The first time I tried this, it didn't go very well. It was because I hadn't chosen to care about anything or anyone in the scene before my "moment" arrived. Deciding how you feel in a scene is good advice for improv in general, but it is paramount for this exercise. It also makes it easier for the coach or fellow player to find where they want to see that Oscar-worthy monologue. As with all improv exercises, there are no set rules, so feel free to try variations!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Ask for the butter
Josh
"I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance." -Socrates
For me it's the same. These are my unfinished theories and current philosophy. Take them or leave them.
I just heard something that I thought was brilliant. I started watching Studio 60, which is a tv show about a comedy tv show similar to Saturday Night Live. There was a line of dialogue that really hit home with me. Harry, aka Harriet, the female cast lead asked her boss (for those of you who are interested is also her ex-boyfriend played by Matthew Perry) "I got a laugh at the table read when I asked for the butter in the dinner sketch, I didn't get it at the dress, what did I do wrong? What did I do wrong." Perry responded with "You asked for the laugh." Harriet "What did I do at the table read?" Perry "You asked for the butter."
That is a brilliant way to look at comedy. Live in the moment. Some people pander to the audience but true performance is about portraying a character and not looking for validation from a chorus of nameless strangers. I forget who, but I was told about an exercise where someone would go to the other room and pick up a pen. Then, someone else goes and picks up a pen from the other end of the room, only now everyone watches them. The results were that when watched, the pen picker uppers, looked as though they were being watched. Something was off. There was now this self aware performance of picking up a pen. Just pick up the pen. Just ask for the butter. Acting is at its best when it's not conscious of itself. So is comedy.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Everything is important
In improv, there are great scenes and not so great scenes. And, as young improvisers, we are constantly struggling to learn what makes bad scenes so we can steer clear of it and what makes great scenes so we can focus on it. Is a scene about a pirate who was cryogenically frozen and thawed in the year 2010 funnier than a scene about two people typing at a desk? The premise certainly sounds funnier to me. But here's the thing: No idea is ever really funnier than the next. You can take a hilarious premise and give it to bad improvisers and they will ruin it. Or, you can take a boring premise and give it to Cook County Social Club and they will turn it into the funniest thing you've ever seen. The reason is because the PLOT and the IDEA don't matter! What matters is listening to the last thing said, no matter how insignificant it may seem, and then responding. EVERY LINE IN IMPROV HAS THE POTENTIAL TO BE GOLD! Example...
I got a note from Cesar Jaime one time that completely changed my improv. I was in a scene with an Owl Farm teammate and we got the suggestion of "scientist". She initiated with "my bunsen burner is broken". I responded with "screw it, let's go to the beach". I thought it was a funny idea to see two scientists at the beach, but I completely disregarded my partner's initiation. We played the beach scene unsuccessfully for a minute before Cesar stopped it. Then he made us go back and play the scene again. But this time he told me not to try to make it funny, just listen and respond to what she said. It became a hilarious scene about two scientists who were more and more downtrodden by all their malfunctioning equipment. In my head (I'm embarrassed to admit) I had thought, "I'm funnier than her, we should just get away from her idea and get to my idea as quickly as possible". What a terrible way to think! Here's a better example of the same thing...
I have been addicted to The Sopranos lately. I've seen it before, but I always go back and start over at season one. The writing is amazing and James Gandolfini is perfect. Anyway, here's what I've noticed. In The Sopranos, there aren't any throw away lines. Nobody ever talks just to fill up space. Every single line is there for a reason. In improv, we should strive to perform the same way. Every line should be important. If somebody says that they burned the toast, you need to feel something about that! Take it personal! Are you mad because they burned the toast to spite you? Are you scared because they burned the last piece of toast in your underground WWII bunker? Do you feel redeemed because you've told them over and over again that the toaster is plotting against you? Here's the promise that I'm willing to make: If you decide that the words your scene partner says are important and worth FEELING something about, you will have a pretty good scene. On the other hand, if you simply try to be funny without reacting and responding to what your scene partner said, you'll fail. Maybe the untrained audience will think you are hilarious and your scene partner sucks, but the improvisers in the crowd (and most of our audience are students and improvisers) will recognize that you're more worried about being funny and less worried about supporting your teammates.
-Brett
I got a note from Cesar Jaime one time that completely changed my improv. I was in a scene with an Owl Farm teammate and we got the suggestion of "scientist". She initiated with "my bunsen burner is broken". I responded with "screw it, let's go to the beach". I thought it was a funny idea to see two scientists at the beach, but I completely disregarded my partner's initiation. We played the beach scene unsuccessfully for a minute before Cesar stopped it. Then he made us go back and play the scene again. But this time he told me not to try to make it funny, just listen and respond to what she said. It became a hilarious scene about two scientists who were more and more downtrodden by all their malfunctioning equipment. In my head (I'm embarrassed to admit) I had thought, "I'm funnier than her, we should just get away from her idea and get to my idea as quickly as possible". What a terrible way to think! Here's a better example of the same thing...
I have been addicted to The Sopranos lately. I've seen it before, but I always go back and start over at season one. The writing is amazing and James Gandolfini is perfect. Anyway, here's what I've noticed. In The Sopranos, there aren't any throw away lines. Nobody ever talks just to fill up space. Every single line is there for a reason. In improv, we should strive to perform the same way. Every line should be important. If somebody says that they burned the toast, you need to feel something about that! Take it personal! Are you mad because they burned the toast to spite you? Are you scared because they burned the last piece of toast in your underground WWII bunker? Do you feel redeemed because you've told them over and over again that the toaster is plotting against you? Here's the promise that I'm willing to make: If you decide that the words your scene partner says are important and worth FEELING something about, you will have a pretty good scene. On the other hand, if you simply try to be funny without reacting and responding to what your scene partner said, you'll fail. Maybe the untrained audience will think you are hilarious and your scene partner sucks, but the improvisers in the crowd (and most of our audience are students and improvisers) will recognize that you're more worried about being funny and less worried about supporting your teammates.
-Brett
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Listening and Reacting (Josh Logan)
"I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance." -Socrates
For me it's the same. These are my unfinished theories and current philosophy. Take them or leave them.
My first draft of this blog was long and dealt with several ideas about listening and reacting. I realized I could write twenty papers from various viewpoints on the same topic. This blog will deal with how I feel the two relate and rely on one another.
Think about listening and reacting like a ying yang sign. Ying being the listening and yang being the reaction. They need each other. First you listened to what is being said. Really listened. If your scene partner delivers a line than it is your duty to react to it. They've just given you a gift by simply saying something to you. Give them a gift in return by reacting to that line, not something else but their words. What is a reaction? Reactions can be verbal or non-verbal. If my line was "Screw the newspaper!" and you just stood there than you are not reacting. If you were to hear that same line and say "What! The newspaper! Screw the newspaper? No sir!" than you have successfully reacted to my line. This dude obviously doesn't feel the same way about the newspaper. Now there are countless things you could have chosen in place of that one. You could have chosen to gasp, which would get across the same point, or you could have agreed and had a similar view on that nasty 'ol bothersome newspaper. The point I'm trying to make is every line needs to be listened to (considered) and reacted to. There are huge reactions and tiny almost insignificant ones.
Let's move through a basic scene
"It's cold outside"
-If that's the initiating line than react to it-
"Oh no! I gotta go to the store. I should wear a jacket so I don't get a cold." (said with real concern for your well being)
-Here's where the ping pong starts. Now you can react to their reaction-
"Don't even joke about getting a cold. When I hear the word 'cold' I get chills up my spine."
-Just keep reacting to the last line-
"Cold! Cold! Cold!"
-I hope you get the point. I'm gonna see where this goes though-
"Stop! Stop! You're scaring me. What if I did get a cold? Ohhhhh. That'd be the pits"
"Yeah it would. Then we'd have to send you away to an island so you wouldn't infect anyone else."
"Nu uhhhh"
"Yeah huh. I knew this kid who disappeared after he got a cold. The teachers told me he died of pneumonia, but I know they sent him to an island."
Was that the best scene in the world? No. They didn't even have names or a location. But it was basic enough and it dealt with the last line said and they all had reactions. If you were wondering the characters names were Joe and Chris. Two brothers who live in North Olmsted, Ohio. Joe is 10 and Chris is 8. Why was Chris going to the store you ask being only 8yrs old. We'll never know.
In closing, react as much as possible and listen as hard as you can. React to everything even if it's a small one. If you find your self in a stale scene, just react to anything.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The Best Notes/Advice Brett Has Ever Been Given...
I got a good note today from my coach, David. If you've seen me play, you may know a little about my strengths and weaknesses. When I know what is happening in a scene, I believe I am a very strong player. But, when I don't know what is going on, I freak out. I can't stand to not be in control during a scene. I have a hard time "letting go" of my fear of the unknown and just being okay with the uncertainty. I think it comes from a fear of looking stupid. It is one thing that holds me back from moving to the next level of improv. Anyway, I liked the note and it got me thinking about the best improv notes or advice I've ever been given. Here are some quotes (and, undoubtedly, misquotes) from some teachers and friends:
1. In life, take nothing personal. In improv, take EVERYTHING personal. -Barry Hite
2. Lose. Fail. In life, we fight so hard to win. In improv, it's fun to lose. -Bill Arnett
3. Improv is fueled by the logic of idiots. -Bill Arnett
4. The day I started being successful was the day I quit trying to be George Strait and started being myself. -Kenny Chesney
5. You boner... there are no right or wrong moves, just supported or unsupported moves. -Craig Uhlir
6. When you meet a man, shake his hand firmly and look him in the eye. -Terry Elam
7. Just listen and react emotionally. It's that easy. -Charna Halpern
8. Avoid the unhappy and unlucky. -Robert Green (The 48 Laws Of Power)
9. If you don't know what to do next in a scene, ask yourself "what's probably true". -Bill Arnett
10. It is never too late to care. In a scene, if you find you've chosen not to care about your scene partner, just choose an emotion and care! -Erica Elam
11. Your reputation in this business is gold. What you destroy in a year will take 10 years to rebuild. -Terry Elam
1. In life, take nothing personal. In improv, take EVERYTHING personal. -Barry Hite
2. Lose. Fail. In life, we fight so hard to win. In improv, it's fun to lose. -Bill Arnett
3. Improv is fueled by the logic of idiots. -Bill Arnett
4. The day I started being successful was the day I quit trying to be George Strait and started being myself. -Kenny Chesney
5. You boner... there are no right or wrong moves, just supported or unsupported moves. -Craig Uhlir
6. When you meet a man, shake his hand firmly and look him in the eye. -Terry Elam
7. Just listen and react emotionally. It's that easy. -Charna Halpern
8. Avoid the unhappy and unlucky. -Robert Green (The 48 Laws Of Power)
9. If you don't know what to do next in a scene, ask yourself "what's probably true". -Bill Arnett
10. It is never too late to care. In a scene, if you find you've chosen not to care about your scene partner, just choose an emotion and care! -Erica Elam
11. Your reputation in this business is gold. What you destroy in a year will take 10 years to rebuild. -Terry Elam
M. Night Shyamalan (by Brett)
M. Night Shyamalan, meet Del Close...
To start, I really liked M. Night Shyamalan's first three movies. I thought they were masterfully written and directed. And, while most people agree that The Sixth Sense was great, I have heard mixed reviews about Signs and Unbreakable. I personally loved them and I will explain why. But, in order for the following blog to make sense, I need you to grant me the following premise: M. Night Shyamalan's first three movies were great and his last three movies were awful. If that is a shark that you are willing to jump for the sake of improv, follow me...
Shyamalan's first three movies followed The Reckoning school of improv. The characters were very well acted and their relationships were slowly fleshed out. The plot didn't matter. Take Signs for example. A lot of people claimed that the aliens were dumb. But I say, who cares about the aliens??? That movie wasn't about aliens. It was about a man and his relationship with God, his brother and his children. And those characters and their relationships were real and were never broken for the sake of a joke. Sure, the relationships were set to the backdrop (plot) of an alien invasion, but that wasn't why I loved it. I loved the characters. When Joaquin Phoenix was funny, it was because he was being REAL. Another example is in Unbreakable when Bruce Willis' character is reconnecting with his wife one night in the bedroom. That movie, to me, was about a man and his relationship with his wife and son. Throughout the course of the movie, I grew to care about him and his relationships. Sure, there was a plot, but that didn't matter to me. The plot was extra. Like icing on a cake. The relationships were what made me love it. Much the same, great improvisers (like The Reckoning) just live in the moment. The plot doesn't matter and they don't break character for a joke.
Now, I'd like to examine Shyamalan's last three movies. The Village, Lady In The Water and The Happening had so little substantial relationship it was ridiculous. They were based solely on plot. Lady In The Water, for example, was so full of plot twists and turns and never once do I remember any connections between characters with a common history. And, there were absurd characters thrown into the film for no other reason than comic effect. The asian girl who talks crazy. The guy who only works out one side of his body. It even sounds like a wacky sitcom. And The Happening was no better. For starters, Shyamalan directed the worst performance of Mark Whalberg's career, but add to that the characters that were just an attempt at humor. For instance, that one guy who kept bringing up hotdogs. Or the army private who yelled "cheese and crackers" when he got scared. It felt so cheap and jokey. The relationships never reigned supreme in these films. Instead, what reigned supreme was plot, plot, plot and joke, joke, joke. The movies were constantly about WHAT WAS HAPPENING and rarely dealt with HOW THE CHARACTERS FELT ABOUT EACHOTHER.
The worst part about these three films was the butchering of the old improv adage, "show me, don't tell me". These three films were all wrapped up by a character literally explaining what the hell had been going on the whole time. In the Village, it was Shyamalan himself at the end of the movie explaining that a rich man had paid planes not to fly over the compound. In Lady In The Water, it was the girl literally explaining EVERYTHING to Paul Giamatti who (like the audience) had no clue what the hell was going on. And in The Happening, it was a news cast at the end that explained why the plants were going nuts. In contrast, The Sixth Sense didn't TELL us that (spoiler alert) Bruce Willis was dead the whole time. It SHOWED us through a series of flashbacks. In Signs, Mel Gibson didn't TELL us what happened. We were shown, either through real time action or a series of flashbacks. In improv, nobody wants to sit and hear you talk about what you did in the past. They want to SEE it.
Well, that's my M. Night Syamalan rant. If I could have one wish, I would wish for infinity wishes. Then, with my first of an infinite number of wishes, I would wish that M. Night Shyamalan would take improv classes. I'd love to see him implement some of improv's basic teachings and maybe make another good movie. Or, if he's just going to continue to try and do crazy twists, direct The Life of Pi, because that book was awesome.
To start, I really liked M. Night Shyamalan's first three movies. I thought they were masterfully written and directed. And, while most people agree that The Sixth Sense was great, I have heard mixed reviews about Signs and Unbreakable. I personally loved them and I will explain why. But, in order for the following blog to make sense, I need you to grant me the following premise: M. Night Shyamalan's first three movies were great and his last three movies were awful. If that is a shark that you are willing to jump for the sake of improv, follow me...
Shyamalan's first three movies followed The Reckoning school of improv. The characters were very well acted and their relationships were slowly fleshed out. The plot didn't matter. Take Signs for example. A lot of people claimed that the aliens were dumb. But I say, who cares about the aliens??? That movie wasn't about aliens. It was about a man and his relationship with God, his brother and his children. And those characters and their relationships were real and were never broken for the sake of a joke. Sure, the relationships were set to the backdrop (plot) of an alien invasion, but that wasn't why I loved it. I loved the characters. When Joaquin Phoenix was funny, it was because he was being REAL. Another example is in Unbreakable when Bruce Willis' character is reconnecting with his wife one night in the bedroom. That movie, to me, was about a man and his relationship with his wife and son. Throughout the course of the movie, I grew to care about him and his relationships. Sure, there was a plot, but that didn't matter to me. The plot was extra. Like icing on a cake. The relationships were what made me love it. Much the same, great improvisers (like The Reckoning) just live in the moment. The plot doesn't matter and they don't break character for a joke.
Now, I'd like to examine Shyamalan's last three movies. The Village, Lady In The Water and The Happening had so little substantial relationship it was ridiculous. They were based solely on plot. Lady In The Water, for example, was so full of plot twists and turns and never once do I remember any connections between characters with a common history. And, there were absurd characters thrown into the film for no other reason than comic effect. The asian girl who talks crazy. The guy who only works out one side of his body. It even sounds like a wacky sitcom. And The Happening was no better. For starters, Shyamalan directed the worst performance of Mark Whalberg's career, but add to that the characters that were just an attempt at humor. For instance, that one guy who kept bringing up hotdogs. Or the army private who yelled "cheese and crackers" when he got scared. It felt so cheap and jokey. The relationships never reigned supreme in these films. Instead, what reigned supreme was plot, plot, plot and joke, joke, joke. The movies were constantly about WHAT WAS HAPPENING and rarely dealt with HOW THE CHARACTERS FELT ABOUT EACHOTHER.
The worst part about these three films was the butchering of the old improv adage, "show me, don't tell me". These three films were all wrapped up by a character literally explaining what the hell had been going on the whole time. In the Village, it was Shyamalan himself at the end of the movie explaining that a rich man had paid planes not to fly over the compound. In Lady In The Water, it was the girl literally explaining EVERYTHING to Paul Giamatti who (like the audience) had no clue what the hell was going on. And in The Happening, it was a news cast at the end that explained why the plants were going nuts. In contrast, The Sixth Sense didn't TELL us that (spoiler alert) Bruce Willis was dead the whole time. It SHOWED us through a series of flashbacks. In Signs, Mel Gibson didn't TELL us what happened. We were shown, either through real time action or a series of flashbacks. In improv, nobody wants to sit and hear you talk about what you did in the past. They want to SEE it.
Well, that's my M. Night Syamalan rant. If I could have one wish, I would wish for infinity wishes. Then, with my first of an infinite number of wishes, I would wish that M. Night Shyamalan would take improv classes. I'd love to see him implement some of improv's basic teachings and maybe make another good movie. Or, if he's just going to continue to try and do crazy twists, direct The Life of Pi, because that book was awesome.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Video Sketches on the Way!
by Eric
Hello my friends,
We have a couple of video sketches coming your way very soon. These are our first attempts at the old YouTube comedy and we are pretty proud of the results. The editing process is happening as we speak, so the videos should be up on an internet near you.
I will say that filming these was a blast and our friend Jordan Gzesh and Mike Gerberding who did the shooting and audio for us were great. The ideas that we had we captured very well in a short amount of time.
Stay YouTuned.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Two thing I'm interested in right now
Josh Logan
There are two things that intrigue me at this moment. One of them is telling whether or not someone is lying and the other is the art and style of arguing. If you haven't read Brett's Jan 6Th post, read it. He talks of an argument we had recently. This was a great moment for me because not only do I really enjoy discussing ideas and finding the truth but I've been researching how to become a better arguer and that was the first chance I got to use my newly acquired skills.
When I say the art of arguing, what I really mean is making a more concise, fallacy free, poignant discussion. My sweetbaby Eva politely informed me that I suck at arguing. She brought up some good points. I, being obsessed with self improvement, listened and took the criticism. I love criticism by the way. (Well sort of) She told me that I was blurring my speech with other points that didn't pertain to that particular argument and while being pertinent to another discussion wasn't pertinent to the current one. I also tend to make muddled metaphors that I think are great but confuse listeners. There's a great website for this type of stuff http://changingminds.org/ . It's got info on all sorts of stuff from selling to theories about behavior. That interests me. Another little move I got to use during the argument with Brett was summing up his point and repeating it to him to not only say "have I got this correct" but to boil it down to its pith and help me understand him better. It was great. I highly recommend checking out that website. It's worth a gander. It actually helps.
The other thing I mentioned was telling if someone is lying or not. That really has no basis other than I think it's a very valuable tool. Not only will it keep you from getting bamboozled, but it's a great way to train your eyes and other info gathering tools to really pay attention to body language and clues that get you inside people heads. Quick fact: The vast majority of the population scores very low on emotional intelligence tests. We're becoming more of a technology driven and owned society and paying less attention to our fellow man's emotional body. This is a neat way to train myself to listen more with my eyes and give someone my full attention. How great is it for improv too. That's usually my motivation behind my interests. That and action movies. (Or old Bill Murray and Tom Cruise films. Did anyone see Who am I? It was a Jackie Chan flick. Goofy.) Anyways, those are the two avenues of interest I have recently had.
I'd love to hear of any other cool interests that one might have recently had or currently pursue.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Only A Sith Deals In Absolutes
"Only a sith deals in absolutes."
Wise words from a wise Jedi (see Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars Episode III). If we can forget, for a moment, that this statement is, in itself, an absolute statement, it seems like pretty sage advice. Nothing is ever really ALWAYS true. Most everything lives in shades of grey and even the most obvious truths tend to have their exceptions.
My least favorite improv teacher (who shall remain nameless) was always giving notes in very rigid terms. He would say to "always" do this and "never" do that. I hated it. He had an idea of what improv SHOULD be in his head and taught as if there was no other way. It was just plain stupid. No scene is ever the same and, therefore, should be treated individually. I've seen guys walk into a scene and tank and then, for no apparent reason whatsoever, someone else will try the same thing and the crowd will erupt in laughter. Improv is about what works for YOU and what choice works in the moment. Nothing in improv is ALWAYS true.
On the other hand...
"If you would be a man, speak what you think today in words as hard as cannon balls, and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it may contradict everything you said today."
More wise words from Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson. There is something that I find very appealing about being a man of conviction. A man that speaks in words as hard as cannon balls. I think it's honorable to believe something and stand behind it. I hesitate to say it, but I admire the 9/11 terrorists. Not because of what they did. Obviously that was a horrible, abhorrent act. But I admire someone who believes in something so firmly that they are willing to die for it. Man, those guys were committed! I admire our soldiers. I admire our police force. I admire anyone who readily stands in danger's way to further a cause that they believe in. I don't admire terrorist's cause, but I do admire their conviction. Kass is going to hate that I said that, but it's true.
Anyway, these are two of my favorite quotes. And they also happen to be two ideas that conflict with me almost every day. I REALLY like to argue. And I argue hard and fast and I'm looking for blood with words as hard as cannon balls. To me, it's a sport. Afterwards, I am always "happy go lucky", but during an argument I tend to forget that there are rarely absolute truths and the argument is NEVER worth hurting the feelings of someone I love.
Last night, Josh and I got into a huge debate over improv theory. I spoke really strongly and so did he. I believed that it is never wrong to make quick, decisive moves in improv. He believed that sometimes it is wrong to "set a scenario" if you know that your scene partner has an idea in mind. He believed that it is often better to "sit back" and give your scene partner time to make clear their idea. And, while I'm proud that I argued what I believe, I now realize that the simple fact that I said something was "always right" made me exactly what I hate. Last night, I was a sith of improv. And also, I say this to Mr. Emerson: "If you would be a man, speak today what you think today in words as hard as cannon balls, but never at the expense of your friends." A real man, in my opinion, takes care of his loved ones first and foremost.
At the end of the night, Josh and I laughed about it all and had some McDonalds. Here's what we learned:
Some of the best improvisers we know (Brenden Jennings) play hard and fast, making decisions EVERY chance they get. Still, some of our favorite improvisers (TJ) often play less aggressively, waiting for their scene partner to explain their idea. Nothing is ever ALWAYS correct. And arguing is fun, but not when you're being mean. I like to argue my ideals and I'm proud to be someone who stands up for what I believe. But, I'd like to get better at considering my friend's feelings, even if it means that I have to give up an argument.
I'll leave you with one more of my favorite quotes, again courtesy of Ralph Waldo Emerson:
"To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."
-Brett
Wise words from a wise Jedi (see Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars Episode III). If we can forget, for a moment, that this statement is, in itself, an absolute statement, it seems like pretty sage advice. Nothing is ever really ALWAYS true. Most everything lives in shades of grey and even the most obvious truths tend to have their exceptions.
My least favorite improv teacher (who shall remain nameless) was always giving notes in very rigid terms. He would say to "always" do this and "never" do that. I hated it. He had an idea of what improv SHOULD be in his head and taught as if there was no other way. It was just plain stupid. No scene is ever the same and, therefore, should be treated individually. I've seen guys walk into a scene and tank and then, for no apparent reason whatsoever, someone else will try the same thing and the crowd will erupt in laughter. Improv is about what works for YOU and what choice works in the moment. Nothing in improv is ALWAYS true.
On the other hand...
"If you would be a man, speak what you think today in words as hard as cannon balls, and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it may contradict everything you said today."
More wise words from Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson. There is something that I find very appealing about being a man of conviction. A man that speaks in words as hard as cannon balls. I think it's honorable to believe something and stand behind it. I hesitate to say it, but I admire the 9/11 terrorists. Not because of what they did. Obviously that was a horrible, abhorrent act. But I admire someone who believes in something so firmly that they are willing to die for it. Man, those guys were committed! I admire our soldiers. I admire our police force. I admire anyone who readily stands in danger's way to further a cause that they believe in. I don't admire terrorist's cause, but I do admire their conviction. Kass is going to hate that I said that, but it's true.
Anyway, these are two of my favorite quotes. And they also happen to be two ideas that conflict with me almost every day. I REALLY like to argue. And I argue hard and fast and I'm looking for blood with words as hard as cannon balls. To me, it's a sport. Afterwards, I am always "happy go lucky", but during an argument I tend to forget that there are rarely absolute truths and the argument is NEVER worth hurting the feelings of someone I love.
Last night, Josh and I got into a huge debate over improv theory. I spoke really strongly and so did he. I believed that it is never wrong to make quick, decisive moves in improv. He believed that sometimes it is wrong to "set a scenario" if you know that your scene partner has an idea in mind. He believed that it is often better to "sit back" and give your scene partner time to make clear their idea. And, while I'm proud that I argued what I believe, I now realize that the simple fact that I said something was "always right" made me exactly what I hate. Last night, I was a sith of improv. And also, I say this to Mr. Emerson: "If you would be a man, speak today what you think today in words as hard as cannon balls, but never at the expense of your friends." A real man, in my opinion, takes care of his loved ones first and foremost.
At the end of the night, Josh and I laughed about it all and had some McDonalds. Here's what we learned:
Some of the best improvisers we know (Brenden Jennings) play hard and fast, making decisions EVERY chance they get. Still, some of our favorite improvisers (TJ) often play less aggressively, waiting for their scene partner to explain their idea. Nothing is ever ALWAYS correct. And arguing is fun, but not when you're being mean. I like to argue my ideals and I'm proud to be someone who stands up for what I believe. But, I'd like to get better at considering my friend's feelings, even if it means that I have to give up an argument.
I'll leave you with one more of my favorite quotes, again courtesy of Ralph Waldo Emerson:
"To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."
-Brett
End of an era
by Josh
Michael Pizza's Tuesday @ 8 is now over. We went 14 weeks. There's talk of us changing to a Thursday slot that is unconfirmed as of yet, however, there are strong reassuring folks in good position that say it's gonna be a reality very soon.
I'm a be missin 'ol Tuesday's @ 8. MP had some monumental moments as well as some important going's on. Going in reverse order here is a review of cool things that happened to us; we were taped by PBS, taped for an online archive of live performances, opened up for Cook County, made some fans and new friends and most importantly had some funny improv along the way. This post seems sentimental I know, like something one would write to sum up a career or as a last hora in the twilight of ones life. I don't mean it to be like that, but that sounds better than what I had planned so I might as well ramp it up.
I can't believe it. It's over. MP really got close to that stage. I really got close to those performers to. In my professional opinion we've all grown. Everything that happens has an expiration date. Some are longer than others. In this case, it turned out to be 14 glorious weeks. 14 unforgettable weeks of improv. 14 weeks of sidesplitting, tear jerked hilarity. Sure we had some wonky moments, but there were moments in there that would rival and other improv show that came before it. It's a big statement I realize. For those of you who would doubt it, YOU DIDN'T SEE ALL OF OUR SHOWS! MP is a team. We try to play like a team. We call it having Michael Pizza fun. The moments where we are all working together to make the funny. Whether it be lifting chairs to make it seem Ben is flying or having Brett and Ben smack me in the face w/ tree branches and rain at the CCSC show as I traveled through the woods, its team fun. Those are priceless moments and greater because they were found through group mind and a childlike sense of play. These guys aren't just players. They're team members and it's triumphantly tragic to see funny walk prolifically off the stage after our last Tuesday's @ 8 show with their heads held high ready to shake hands with friends and trade smiles. I saw it in slow motion like the end of a Wes Anderson movie sans The Fantastic Mr. Fox (which was wonderful). Thank you to those who supported us. That's what it's all about. Not just in improv but in life. Maybe I'm making to much of this (that's the point), but whether it be friends or family, live improv shows or a little kid learning to read, support is everything. Thanks for the support. I won't soon forget it.
Love always,
MP
P.S. Have a great summer. Never change.
Michael Pizza's Tuesday @ 8 is now over. We went 14 weeks. There's talk of us changing to a Thursday slot that is unconfirmed as of yet, however, there are strong reassuring folks in good position that say it's gonna be a reality very soon.
I'm a be missin 'ol Tuesday's @ 8. MP had some monumental moments as well as some important going's on. Going in reverse order here is a review of cool things that happened to us; we were taped by PBS, taped for an online archive of live performances, opened up for Cook County, made some fans and new friends and most importantly had some funny improv along the way. This post seems sentimental I know, like something one would write to sum up a career or as a last hora in the twilight of ones life. I don't mean it to be like that, but that sounds better than what I had planned so I might as well ramp it up.
I can't believe it. It's over. MP really got close to that stage. I really got close to those performers to. In my professional opinion we've all grown. Everything that happens has an expiration date. Some are longer than others. In this case, it turned out to be 14 glorious weeks. 14 unforgettable weeks of improv. 14 weeks of sidesplitting, tear jerked hilarity. Sure we had some wonky moments, but there were moments in there that would rival and other improv show that came before it. It's a big statement I realize. For those of you who would doubt it, YOU DIDN'T SEE ALL OF OUR SHOWS! MP is a team. We try to play like a team. We call it having Michael Pizza fun. The moments where we are all working together to make the funny. Whether it be lifting chairs to make it seem Ben is flying or having Brett and Ben smack me in the face w/ tree branches and rain at the CCSC show as I traveled through the woods, its team fun. Those are priceless moments and greater because they were found through group mind and a childlike sense of play. These guys aren't just players. They're team members and it's triumphantly tragic to see funny walk prolifically off the stage after our last Tuesday's @ 8 show with their heads held high ready to shake hands with friends and trade smiles. I saw it in slow motion like the end of a Wes Anderson movie sans The Fantastic Mr. Fox (which was wonderful). Thank you to those who supported us. That's what it's all about. Not just in improv but in life. Maybe I'm making to much of this (that's the point), but whether it be friends or family, live improv shows or a little kid learning to read, support is everything. Thanks for the support. I won't soon forget it.
Love always,
MP
P.S. Have a great summer. Never change.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Improv Festival
Well it has begun. I have started the work that goes into putting together an improv festival.
Now in its fourth year, the So Ill Improv festival, is getting bigger and better. The So Ill is my baby and it has been a joy to watch it grow up and get bigger and better.
When I was a senior at SIU in Carbondale I wanted to give something that would stay in the small college town even after I was gone, for me it had to be improv comedy.
As a freshman I was actively seeking an improv home after experiencing it in high school. The only thing was, I couldn't find a shred of improv at the University of over twenty thousand students. It wasn't until a year later, when I saw some sidewalk chalk for auditions, that I found out about an improv group called Community Floss. Once in the group my goal quickly became to get the word out on what improv is and why people should care.
Producing the festival and now helping out the students who produce it is a lot of fun wrapped up in one weekend. I love every bit of it, from raising the money, getting groups to submit, to creating a website and then watching it all come together. In fact, producing the festival is what gave me the desire to pursue improv as a business.
Oh, and if you want to be a part of all of this then by all means:
www.soillimprov.com
Love,
Eric
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