So this improv thing that we do is always supposed to be about being funny, right? I mean if you’re not getting laughs on stage, then you’re doing something wrong, right?
I’m going to come out and say most definitely no. Improv is not about always being funny. In fact, some of the best scenes that I’ve seen and been in have been rather serious ones. Sometimes those are the improv moments where you go “wow, that was pretty cool.”
I have to admit, feeling like we have to be funny comes with our territory. Tell anyone that you’re an improviser or that you work on stage at a comedy club and within about five or ten seconds they’ll ask you to “be funny” or “do something funny.” People expect that improv will be funny… and our audiences expect to laugh… which means that in the theatre business, you have to meet those expectations or they won’t be coming back. Luckily, I believe that all of us, improvisers and non-improvisers are funny by our very nature. Our human nature, our reaction to things, is funny without any “help” from us. God, it seems, has a sense of humor. Thank Him.
But where many improvisers, my self included, get off track is when we try to force the funny. Let’s face it, we’ve all been on stage, said something that we thought was brilliant expecting to get a laugh and only heard the sounds of the HVAC system and hum of the stage lights. Equally many of us have been there and had the audience rolling without even trying. Laughter is a relief, silence feels like death.
Which brings me to getting serious. When it comes to me in “real life” I think I tend to be a rather serious guy. I think a lot and it’s often hard for me to tell when someone is joking around or when they are serious. I have often said that I have terrible “bit-dar” I don’t follow bits or create bits very often or very well. I discovered a little over two years ago that I play best when I am not trying to be a funny character, or trying to find something funny to say… but when I play scenes based in reality. When I find a grounded character and play with him/her. If I stay connected to reality, I tend to excel.
So for me, I tend to play “normal” characters. Guys who could be anyone with a particular point of view. I try to do this in my one-man improvised Shakespeare project, The Dogberry. And I try to do it anytime I play (though you will see me go wacky from time to time). What I’ve found is that sometimes I’m playing to rather quiet houses which is scary. Recently I was playing at the The Ant with my friend Rebecca and we were in a scene that felt really good between us, but there were long periods of silence. Afterwards I was talking with folks in the house and was like “that was weird….” but everyone said they were just not laughing out loud, and that they were captivated. I knew they weren’t just being nice because it didn’t feel like we were losing them, it just felt different.
On stage, you can often tell when you are losing an audience. There is this sense of a widening gulf between you and them. When they are laughing, you know you have them, but when they are silent, it’s easy to think they aren’t there. But, if you are playing the part, if you are sticking to the character and reacting to what’s happening, the audience will be there with you. It’s why people pay big money to see a serious drama… they want to be captivated by the story and the characters. If you are giving all you’ve got to a character, to a scene and it goes serious… don’t stop it, go with it. Cry for God’s sake. People cry all the time in real life. Why shouldn’t they in our scenes. Get real… get really real and see where it goes.
It sounds weird to say things like this, but there is something really cool, almost spiritual, about hitting a great scene on stage… connecting with your partner, with the scene, and with the audience. I live for improv moments where the scene couldn’t be better if it was written by an Oscar winning screenwriter.
These kind of moments come when the scenes are funny, but they also come when they are serious. The moment created when improvisers are connected as characters in a fictional world, in the moment, funny or not funny is a wonderful, captivating, and thrilling moment… both for the improviser and the audience. Don’t be afraid of it. Go there, the audience will go with you and you may be surprised at how with you they are.
