Scene Stealers and Stereotypes
Improvisational Comedy has a Woman Problem
Family Dinners
I came to laugh.
It’s the only known thing I share in common with fellow audience members as we file into the theater, shedding jackets in relief from the October cold.
I scan the crowd. 75 voices chatter aimlessly, an even split of men and women, seated comfortably to watch an improvisational comedy show. The format is Family Dinner. Mothers, fathers, sister, brothers, aunts, uncles and all the comedic drama that comes from those everyday relationships sitting around a dinner table.
I am prepared to laugh.
Just minutes after 8 p.m., house lights dim and music swells. Hands clap together in a welcoming applause as the lights come up. Five men take the stage to play roles of mothers, sisters, aunts and grandmas.
The format begins, and characters are created. Some choose roles as a grandfather, son. Grandson. A man assumes the role of a precocious little sister, proud of her good grades, and with different outfits for each daily activity. Another man plays multiple different characters, including the corpses of a mother and grandmother, left behind to offer guidance and a perverted physical pleasure in the form of necrophilia to the remaining characters.
I think briefly of the Shakespearian era, where women were banned from the stage, and men performed all the roles.
And I can’t seem to laugh.
This performance was one of many put on at the Old Main Theater in Bellingham by WWU’s Dead Parrots Society, a student improv comedy troupe founded in 1998. The Parrots put on four to five shows per month. Yet at each performance a question may be asked:
Where are the women?
Only one member in the cast of eight identifies as female. Looking through their alumni list, only 21 percent of cast members have been women in the last 17 years. Compared to the overall student body, where 56 percent is made up of women, according to the Western website, there is a lack of gender representation on the Dead Parrots Society.
However, stepping away from the stage, women can be found in the audience of Dead Parrots’ shows, demonstrated by the even split at the Family Dinner format. They can also be found — eager to perform — at Improv Club.
Funny Boys Club
“Ok, who thinks they know what an offer is?”
Current Dead Parrots cast member Alex LaVallee directs the question to his break-off group. Nine women and 12 men sit listening to him explain how an offer starts an improv scene. Offers inform an improviser’s scene partner of their relationship to one another, as well as their surroundings and current activities,
Improv Club is a weekly rehearsal-style meeting open to all Western students. Different Dead Parrots Society members separate the attendees into smaller groups and lead improv games to train and hone comedic skills.
As LaVallee leads games in his room, he constantly asks for volunteers to come forward and perform. Flying hands of excited volunteers belong to both men and women. Not a single game passes without a woman jumping up to test it out.
One consistent participant is Sophia von Veh, a current WWU sophomore who has been attending Improv Club since the beginning of her freshman year.
“Improv is really exciting,” she says. “There is something so wonderful and yet so basic about creating art on the spot.”
As a theater major, von Veh already has a love of performing, but coming to Improv Club gives her a passion for comedy, she says.
In total, around 60 people come out for Improv Club each week. The current number of women in attendance is almost 50 percent.
However, according to Elai Shine, a current Dead Parrots Society cast member, the 50/50 gender split is a relatively new trend. Female attendance tends to start low, and usually drops as the year goes on, he says, leaving Improv Club a predominately male group. This affects who gets chosen to be a cast member.
“I know the issue of gender balance comes up because we only have one girl on the team,” says Dominic Finseth, another cast member. “But it’s just based on who has been coming to Improv Club.”
Each week, the members of Dead Parrots Society gather and discuss potential future members. Those who consistently show up and are enjoyable to watch perform have a better chance of making the team, Finseth says. There’s no set date for announcing new members or an exact number of people allowed on the team, he says, but typically a cast will range from 7–14 people and new members will be added around every three months.
“It’s a process of unanimous vote,” says Shine. If the pool of potential cast members is made up of more men than women, that will be reflected in the performing cast.
Shine speculates that Improv Club draw certain individuals and behaviors that may contribute to the female drop in attendance.
“Comedy definitely attracts people who want to be offensive,” he says. In practice scenes at Improv Club, female improvisers are often immediately assumed to be playing female characters, and hurtful stereotypes can be forced, he says.
Shine believes that some improvisers take comfort in playing the stereotypes, thinking that it will bring laughs from the audience. But he ensures that the Parrots teach against this form of comedy, and are looking to facilitate a more inclusive environment.
Bring on the Women
In spring quarter of 2015, Katie Heath led three women-only improv workshops. Heath was the only female cast member on the Dead Parrots Society for two years, before graduating in June of 2015.
“There’s a devastating lack of female voices in comedy,” she says. In improv she still sees many groups of all men, and during her time on the Parrots she craved more opportunities to perform with women.
For Heath, improvising with women was a powerful experience. She and the others had an opportunity to create diverse characters, instead of the automatic assumption to play female roles.
As the only female Dead Parrots Society cast member, Heath says she tried to blend in and not draw attention to herself at first. But as she moved up and became an older member, she embraced having the sole female voice in a male dominated group. While she can’t pinpoint the exact reason for the lack of women cast members on Dead Parrots, she can say this:
“When there is a large group of one specific type of people, they tend to look for comedy that’s very similar to their own.”
One woman inspired by Heath’s female-only workshops is Summer Storholt, a current WWU senior and theater major. Storholt proposed and successfully began a new club titled Her-larity, an improv and comedy club open to all identities, but created specifically for female identified students.
Storholt saw a need for Her-larity after attending Improv Club. She saw fast, funny and smart women participating, but none were making the team.
Storholt believes it’s due to the closeness of the current Dead Parrots members, and fears they would only accept male members if they could.
“But they know that would cause a stir,” she says.
With Her-larity, Storholt hopes to create a supportive comedy environment that will coexist alongside the Dead Parrots Society. At showcases, every participant will have the opportunity to perform. Storholt aims to give funny WWU women the recognition they deserve.
From Parrots to Beyond
A lack of female representation in improv comedy expands further than just the Dead Parrots Society. From nationwide television shows such as Saturday Night Live to The Upfront Theatre in Bellingham, men still make up the majority of cast members.
Maddie Neuman, a current cast member at The Upfront, believes audience expectations may play a large role in discouraging female performers.
“I feel it’s more well received when I play a ditzy woman than a competent powerful woman,” she says. “And I don’t know how to make a powerful competent woman funny, because we don’t see that stereotype.”
Neuman has been involved in improv comedy since 2007, when she was a freshman at WWU, studying English. She discovered The Upfront at the Red Square Info Fair and signed up for a 100-level improv class, and then worked her way up to the main stage.
While she recognizes audiences might expect her to play into certain stereotypes, Neuman says fighting against them is one of the best parts of improv comedy.
During a 10 p.m. show, she asks for a suggestion from the audience to start a scene. From the back corner of the room, a man yells out.
“Stripper!”
A huge reaction follows, with the audience laughing loudly. Neuman nods, thinks about the suggestion, and waits for the lights to come up.
Marching to center stage, Neuman begins making loud ripping sounds and huge tearing motions with her arms. She turns to her scene partner, and continues her motions.
“Aw man I’m so glad to get rid of this wallpaper,” she says.
The joke met with silence. Then a positive reaction erupts from the audience.
“Everyone realized I didn’t fall into the trap,” Neuman says. “I used the suggestion but I didn’t use it how they wanted me to. I’ll never forget what that felt like.”
In Neuman’s perfect world, articles about lack of female representation in comedy aren’t necessary anymore. Improv will no longer be male dominated, and female stereotypes will cease to exist. But for now she hopes women keep showing up, keep auditioning and keep trying.
When comedic women do take the stage, whether as Dead Parrots, Her-larity or Upfront Theatre members, I’ll be back. I’ll be in the audience, front row.
Prepared to laugh.