Improvise like a professional

How to act when you’re not acting

Have you ever done a bad scene and then tried to save face by making a joke about how bad it was afterwards? Have you ever gotten so sick of the same suggestion that you straight up turned it down? Have you ever groaned when your team mate says you’re playing that shortform game you hate?

Stop it. Right now. Get off stage, go home and come back when you’ve ready to act like you give a shit. You’re ruining this for the rest of us.

Does that sound harsh? Well, good, because I’m annoyed.

Improv has a shaky reputation among comedy and theatre audiences. Partly that’s because of that one weird thing in every improv review where they talk about how shit improv is, even when the show they’re reviewing was amazing; partly it’s because there are very few mainstream examples of improv for them to use as a baseline, so one bad show can ruin their impression of improv forever.

However, it’s mostly because too many improv groups undermine it as an artform and an entertainment medium by acting like they don’t really care about what they’re doing when they’re onstage. This kills me, because I love improv and I know how amazing it can be. Every time I hand a flyer to someone or invite them to a Facebook event and they say “I don’t like improv”, I feel a twinge of rage because I know exactly what they don’t like about it and it’s so unnecessary and preventable. It all stems from improvisers who don’t know how to behave when they’re not in a scene.

When you put down a scene you’ve done, or a game you’re playing, or an audience member, you’re shooting yourself in the foot. Your audience’s experience of your show isn’t dictated solely by how good your object work is or how well you heighten the game. Everything about the way you present yourself, your team and your artform has an impact. Today, we’re going to talk about the simple changes you can make to your show, to make sure your audience walk away feeling entertained, impressed and positive about you as a performer.

Celebrate your audience’s suggestions

Dentist. Spatula. The Moon. Taxidermist. Pineapple. Dildo.

Every troupe has a list of suggestions they get every goddamn show. Yours might be different — in fact, let me know, I’m curious to see what different people get — but I’m sure it’s just as painful hearing them for the hundredth time.

However, when someone in your audience shouts out a suggestion, they’re probably really proud of themselves for being quick and coming up with something they think) quirky and unusual.

If you yawn or say “meh”, you’ll make them feel bad and they’ll spend the next scene thinking “fuck these guys” and possibly preparing to shout something difficult or rude later on.

Even if you don’t pick a suggestion, thank the audience for what they’ve given you — say “thank you” directly to the person who spoke. If you want to pick and choose, repeat every suggestion in an excited tone and settle on one quickly. Even if you end up with a suggestion you’ve done loads of times before, remember that you’re improvising.

If you don’t want to do another scene about a dentist in a dentist’s office with his patient who has Wacky Tooth Disorder, just do something else. If all your scenes end up being the same, that’s something you need to work on, not a failure of the audience. You’re the one who’s supposed to be creative here! To quote Susan Messing:

If you’re not having fun, you’re the asshole.

If there’s something you really just can’t bear hearing again, use it as an example when you ask. For example: “Can we have an unusual occupation to inspire this scene, like a dentist or a taxidermist?”

Exception: if someone shouts a racist, sexist, x-phobic slur, feel free to shut them down. Don’t force yourself or your team mates to do anything that’s going to make you or other members of the audience uncomfortable. Make sure everyone who gets suggestions in your cast knows they have permission to turn down an offensive suggestion.

Borderline suggestions can be manipulated slightly to remove any awkward connotations. Racing Minds did this tremendously well in a show I caught at the Edinburgh Fringe this year, when one audience member suggested that one male character’s big secret was that they were “a woman with a very hairy chest”, which they turned into just having a very hairy chest. Similarly Bobby, my partner in crime at Sturike Comedy and the Sheffield Improv Jam, is adept at turning overly gendered suggestions like “husband and nagging wife” into “unhappily married couple”.

Practice your explanations

At some point, every improv show has a bit of spiel about what’s happening and how it works. This is all made up, we need your suggestions, this is how this game works, clap when someone runs across the front, all that stuff. I know, this is the most boring part of the show for you, but don’t make the audience suffer for it.

Work out what you need to communicate in this section. Write it down. Learn it off by heart. Say it with enthusiasm, every time. Get it over and done with in the most efficient way possible and you tell the audience that you’re in control and confident.

Look sharp on the backline

Unless you have curtains or wings (you lucky sod), the audience can see you from the moment you go onstage until the moment you leave. If you’re whispering to a friend while your team mate is explaining the format, the audience will assume that this bit really isn’t important. If you’re rolling your eyes at playing THAT game again, they’ll assume that game sucks. If you’re bouncing from foot to foot looking nervous, they’ll assume you’re not very competent.

Two attitudes are acceptable from a player on the backline: respectful attentiveness and creasing up with uncontrollable laughter. When you’re not currently improvising, your job is to model the behaviour you expect from the audience. Lead and they will follow. The Free Association are fantastic at this — seeing them crack up and fall about at their team mates is incredibly infectious.

Edit with confidence

Despite our best efforts, some scenes don’t always present a good ending. Occasionally you just have to call your losses and cut it short to rescue your fellow players. In those circumstances, you might feel a strong impulse to make light of the bad scene, to try and rescue it for the audience. Resist this urge at all costs! Not only will it make your scene partners feel bad, but it’ll stick in the mind of the audience far more than if you just move swiftly on. Besides, there’s every chance the scene you thought was terrible was actually fine. The last thing you want to do is make the audience laugh then make them feel stupid for enjoying themselves!

Big up your show

Whenever you talk, post or send a snapchat about your group or your show, you’re doing marketing. Marketing is a huge topic which I’ll probably touch on in another blog post, but for now, here’s a simple rule: tell people what your show is, tell them that your show will be good and tell them why it will be good.

You might think it is funny and clever to say that your show will be shit or pretend that it will be something ‘weird’ like dogs doing interpretive dance scored on xylophone.

You are wrong.

In order for people to want to see your show, they have to believe it will be good. In order for people to be able to see your show, they have to know what they will be seeing and when and where it will happen and how much it will cost them. Tell them those things, in that order.

Take compliments gracefully

If an audience member comes up to you after a show and tells you they enjoyed it, say “thank you for coming, I’m glad you enjoyed it” and smile at them. Don’t tell them “actually I wasn’t happy with the third scene” or “you should see me when I’m on form”. Don’t make your audience feel like they’re an idiot for finding you entertaining.

This was a huge lesson for my twoprov, Between Us. We don’t use a coach and we’re both improv perfectionists, so when we get off stage, we usually want nothing more than to sit down and drown each other in feedback. We were so excited to have that conversation, it took until we stopped apologising for something that was actually a great piece of improvised theatre that we realised our audience was giving us their own valuable feedback!

Be timely

If you’re running your own event, start and finish on time. If you’re on a mixed bill, don’t overrun and unless you have an urgent appointment elsewhere, stick around for the other acts. Don’t talk during their performance. Cheer them. Congratulate them when they come offstage. Don’t badmouth them to other people.

Respect the audience and respect yourself

If you want people to like you, you should be nice to them. If you want people to respect you, you should be respectful of them. If you genuinely believe that your improv is worth watching, then you should do everything you can to make people want to watch it. Nothing puts an audience off more than feeling like you don’t give a shit about their experience. So show them you respect them.

Never make the audience feel stupid for enjoying themselves.

Before you can do that, you have to respect yourself and your team. I think it’s necessary to be a little bit arrogant to be a good artist. You need to believe you have something worth sharing.

So many of the negative behaviours I’ve discussed here are defenses against insecurity. You think a scene is going badly, so you sweep it and try to get a gag by calling out how bad it was because you don’t trust yourself or your team mates to make it work. You don’t want to seem too enthusiastic in case your audience think you’re a dweeb, so you slouch onstage and half-explain your show in case it seems shit. You don’t give it your all so that when you fail, you can say “at least I wasn’t really trying my best.”

You are an artist. Your work has value. And the absolute best thing you can do to make an audience like you and get on your side is honestly, sincerely throw yourself in to what you’re doing, in the scene and out of it. Show them that you’re willing to work for their approval, because you value them. Prove that you take yourself seriously and they’ll take you seriously as well.