Like a Chainsaw in a Barbershop

The best comedies all have one thing in common: the characters who populate the story take everything that happens absolutely seriously.  Whether they are busting Zuul, attempting to land a pilot-less airplane, or questing for the Holy Grail, they do so with a mindset of absolute sober sincerity. Whether the comedy in question is the erudite pomposity of Noel Coward or the physical absurdity of the Three Stooges, it's all played with a metaphorical straight face; no mugging allowed.

If the characters in our comedies were to react in a manner unbefitting the situations in which they found themselves, the illusion would be broken and the suspension of disbelief would be shattered. For a comedy to truly succeed, it is imperative that the characters react to and interact with their own reality, no matter how ridiculous or insane, in a consistent and logical fashion.

Watching an improv scene unfold with the suggestion of "hair," we saw a customer enter a barbershop and sit down. A bumbling barber enters the scene. After examining his customer's hair for a moment, the barber grabs a chainsaw and starts it up. So far, nothing is necessarily going off track. The customer, however, does not react as someone would when faced with a murderous chainsaw-wielding barber. Instead, he turns his head calmly and comments on how nice the barber's "new chainsaw" is. 

Everything then goes downhill precipitously.

Countless appropriate reactions could have presented themselves; perhaps a blood-curdling scream from the terrified customer, followed by a hearty laugh from the barber as he gets rid of the chainsaw and explains it's a joke he plays on all his new customers. Not exactly brilliant theater, but appropriate within the context of the platform they created. 

Instead we watch as the barber fumbles about for a moment, suggests that perhaps he shouldn't use the chainsaw, and then lets it disappear from his hands, to evaporate into the ether. The scene meanders on for a bit, but nothing of note is accomplished. There is no miming of actual barber shop behaviors, no discernible characters, and no adherence to the environment created. In fact, there is so little environment created that there is little if anything to adhere to.

The point to be made here is to create your reality, stay true to the reality you've just created, and behave within that environment as characters naturally would. Will all characters behave as normal humans would in all situations? Of course not.

Not all characters

are

"normal" humans.

They must, however, behave in accordance with the character construct you adopt in order for the audience to accept your characters as "real" within the context of the scene. The audience may not consciously sense when an actor is not being true to the reality of the scene, but you can be sure they will sense it subconsciously, and that fact will color their perception of the scene, causing them to 

lose focus and drift.

The best comedy is played in all seriousness, from every insane minute of Monty Python to every childlike moment of Pee-Wee Herman's quest to recover his bike. Strive for that mindset, be true to the reality you create, and the humor with come of its own accord. 

Happy improvising!

How to Kill Your Scene In One Easy Step

There are few things more annoying while working an improv scene than to craft a character or create a reality out of thin air, only to have it bulldozed by a player who is either A) not playing attention, or B) not willing to give up control. Oh yeah, there's also C) they're looking to be "funny."

The importance of chivalry in improv simply cannot be emphasized enough.
   

One must respect the creation

of another and accept it and all

that goes with it, or you will 

never be a strong improviser.  

Fail to do so often enough and no one will want to play with you.  There is enough uncertainty built into the structure of improv without adding more to it.

So...when someone creates a character, acknowledge that character and build yours along with it.  It is of primary importance that you listen to everything that is happening on stage.  That bears repeating: listen to EVERYTHING that is happening on stage.  A good improv actor will drop clues as to who she is; if she comes out, assumes a lower status than another character and calls that character "Miss," then you would be right to assume that person may be a servant or caregiver.  To then try to endow that character as "Mother" would be inappropriate and dismissive of the groundwork already laid by your fellow actor.

Beware the improv actor who tries to control a scene at all costs; he will, without a doubt, twist your character and environment to suit his purposes.  If you start a scene by speaking in a "Yoda" voice and say, "Hmmm...Late you are!"  he will reply, "Now, Jeff, stop using that accent; it's not that good."  This is a fear response.  The actor in question does not like giving up control, so he will try to make the other actor seem "crazy," or "stupid."   

In order to dilute his 

fear of the unknown, 

he will deny the reality 

created by his fellow actor

 and insinuate his own 

reality onto the scene.  

This makes for poor, uninteresting improv scenes.  It also makes for fellow actors who will either not trust that actor, or will simply give up and let the fearful actor control all the scenes.  Audiences can sense choices made from the standpoint of fear, and they will not respect them.

Learn to let go.  If you have a gun and another character takes it from you, put your hands up and, if need be, allow yourself to get shot.  Don't pull another gun out of your pocket.  You created a reality, the other actor respected it.  They may have taken your gun, but they didn't point at it and call it a banana or a water pistol.  Be chivalrous.  Allow yourself to be changed.  The audience will appreciate it.

Happy improvising!