At the crux of the ongoing conflict between the Long-Form and Short-Form camps of improv is the deceptively simple term, "game".
Those in the long-form group have a tendency to look down their noses at their short-form comrades, basing their opinions on fundamental misconceptions such as, "The terms “long-form improv” and “short-form improv”...tend to imply different relationships between participants. Short-form improv tends to involve small teams (or more purely, individual actors) competing against each other to produce a sole victor. This is to say that in short-form improv, the relationships between actors (or teams) are immediately oppositional and ultimately competitive. On the other hand, long-form improv tends to involve a single team of actors working for each other to produce a victorious whole. In long-form improv, the relationships between the actors are immediately supportive and ultimately cooperative." (Hauk, Long-Form Improv)*
There is a small cadre of long-form enthusiasts in the United States that seems to get their information regarding short-form from Whose Line Is It, Anyway? What they don't appear to understand is that, while WLIIA? is certainly entertaining, it is not an accurate example of short-form improv. It is, in fact, a hybrid form of improv designed exclusively for television and is no more a real-world example of short-form improv than Chopped is of home cooking.
"Whose Line Is It, Anyway...is not an accurate example of short-form improv."
Here's the gist of it: the term games simply refers to a scenic form. Long-formers might call this a gimmick, and in doing so are intending it to be derisive. Merriam-Webster, however, defines "gimmick" as, "an ingenious and usually new scheme or angle". Games do not make for bad improv; bad improv makes for bad improv, and can be found with equal ease in both short- and long-form.
Games are templates for driving scenes. They provide a format that can be quite simple or insanely complex. The point is they give the scene its basic structure, with the actor's scene work supplying the details. Long-form formats such as the Harold are little more than an extended series of scenes and games loosely (if at all) tied together by common themes. They are templates, just as games are. In fact, most of what we refer to as long-form is in reality a collection of short-form; it's rare to see true long form unless you go to see performers like TJ and Dave.
Both forms of improv employ games, but not all improv must use games. Short-form can and is performed with little to no use of games, just as long-form is often performed with heavy reliance on games.
It's doubtful that Renaissance artists spent their time ridiculing the art form of other artists. "What? You're a sculptor? Ha! It's easy to make something look human if you can use all three dimensions. Try using oil paints...they're flat, and they never dry!"
When improvisers waste their time putting down their fellow improvisers they sound petty and show themselves to be insecure and unknowledgeable. We should instead be learning from one another and reveling in the joy improv brings to us all.
Happy improvising!
*To set the record straight, Ben Hauk could not be more wrong about short-form improv. He apparently derives his view of the form from nothing other than Whose Line and ComedySportz. The joke's on him, though: in neither format is the competition real; it's simply a veneer put on for the audience's sake.
