99.9% Pure

Blue Girl is wanting traffic. She's wanting linky love and is demanding that we all post about our purest comedic experience so that we can send it on over to newcritics. It seems they’re having a comedy blog-a-thon this Nov. 6-11th.

Well, I'm game, she said, so they shot her! Ba-dum-bump!

Anyone who is familiar with newcritics knows that the are indeed critics. They critique everything, but the kitchen sink… or maybe they’ve done that as well and I've just missed it. I get the feeling that their request for the purest comedic experience may mean a show someone has seen or an album that was listened to. Mine does not fit into that category, but I’m going ahead anyhow. Sometimes an experience is what it is and need not be categorized or dissected. I will try to relate my most blissfully pure comedic experience with that in mind. Over-analysis has been known to kill the magic.

As most of you who read this blog know, I went through Chicago’s Second City Conservatory Program. It was a 2 year deal that ended with performing a weekly show on the e.t.c stage. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to perform for a living, but I had always wanted to do the program and I have never, for a moment, regretted it.

One of the main rules of improv is to say, “Yes, and…” to whatever might be given to you. You do not want to control the direction of improv, other than moving it forward. Saying no stops the progression, stops development.You don’t so much as want to drive as you want to ride the wave. If you fight the wave and say no to the direction it is going, you fall off. By saying yes, you acknowledge what has been given to you. By adding *and*, you give something back for someone else to build on. And so it goes.

It is incredibly hard at times to surrender to no control while attempting to move this comedy beast forward.  Improv is a bizarre combo of thinking incredibly fast and yet not letting your thinking brain take over. I have had many moments of bliss while learning and attempting this art, but one by far, stands out as nirvana.

It happened during a regular upper-level class… we were doing two people scenes, given only a location and a clue as to why were there. I was doing my scene with Stephen. (Working with Stephen was like working with a genius puppy.) Our set-up was a blind date and we were on a bus. It was also suggested that I did not want to be on this date. I had to find a way to say yes while initially rejecting the situation.

What happened next was the most mysterious and wonderful 5 minutes of my comedic history. The big improv hand came down, we said yes, and oh baby, did we ride. There was actually very little dialog that passed between us, our scene mostly consisting of noises, gestures, and expressions. I remember very little of the actual scene, I just remember feeling as if something else were at the controls. It progressed without thought, it moved without our directing it and even better, it was FUNNY!! We could hear our classmates howling. We could see our veteran instructor heaving. The class then moved into the silent phase of laughter where you are laughing so hard, you’re not making much sound... and then the tears started. By the time the scene ended, there was not one person who was not beet red and crying with glee, including Stephen and myself.

Our scene was the last for the evening and we all walked out feeling incredibly spent, yet elated. It would be naive to think we had anything to do with how that scene went. We just showed up and tuned into the right station. I have laughed oh so many times since and hope to laugh many times more, but I know I will most likely never laugh or feel like that again. It was a moment of comedic grace that transcended words and it was wonderful.

Comments

[Dan Leo]

I love "We just showed up and tuned into the right station". To me writing is like improv, even when you're rewriting something for the 12th time. Just sitting down and leaving yourself open to that touch of grace.

[Claire]

a) I read this blog and did not know that! That is too cool! :)

b) I have a moment like that, that probably wasn't that funny, but involved New York Soda (probably vanilla cream or black cherry) painfully coming out of my nose. It was just my sister and I goofing off. That spiraling laughter that only seems to occur between siblings. You know the type? It's one of the best, and allows you to *not* kill them when given the reason to.

[Brando]

Great story. The downside of improv is that I think it's easy to forget what actually happened. A friend of mine who is a musician once did a bit of improv about a local Iowa City figure that absolutely destroyed me with laughter, but it wasn't recorded and none of us can remember it exactly.

I never went through the improv side, but we had our golden moments like this in the writing program, where someone would bring a sketch in that just killed during the read-through, especially if someone really got into their part.

[Jennifer]

Claire- let me add that *beverages through the nose humor* increases as the nose-owner increases in age. :)

Brando- you are so right, but even if you did record it and redo it, something is lost. We remembered enough of the scene to try and recreate it for the show. We got plenty of laughs, but nothing as magical and wonderful as that initial happening. I always wonder if it's because you're trying to direct the course too much at that point and aren't surrendering enough.

Dan- "Just sitting down and leaving yourself open to that touch of grace." I think that would apply to most anything... doing the work, but having the sense to get our of creativity's way. You're a strong man if you can surrender to that 12th rewrite... I would think by 12, the ego is just screaming for control.

[blue girl]

Well, I'm game, she said, so they shot her!

And then Snag grilled her over his fire pit and ate her!

And a chili dog.

Ba-da-bum!

Wow. That's awesome! The thought of improv has always scared me. To do funny "intentionally." Curb Your Enthusiasm is all improvised and boy do I give them credit. They've got the magic going. I saw what's-her-face (Larry's actress wife) interviewed and she said they knew within two minutes that they could work together like that.

Good for you for doing that Jennifer. It all sounds very terrifying to me.

It brings back memories of my acting classes, although my experiences were much, much easier and more mundane....

"Okay, now everyone pretend you're a tree!"

Me: "Oh my God."

"Okay, now everyone pretend you're a wall!"

Me: "Dear God in heaven, help me."

[blue girl]

Just sitting down and leaving yourself open to that touch of grace.

Oh, man! I love that to death!

[Jennifer]

BG- You just have to know the wall's motivation! Did it really want to be a wall or did it want to be a floor? Perhaps it wanted to be a ceiling, but couldn't aim that high and was stuck being an upright, uptight wall. :(

[blue girl]

I hated being a wall because things I didn't particularly like just kept hanging around.

[Jennifer]

OUCH!

[Snag]

My acting experience consists solely of acting innocent. What a great story, though! I've got to do some thinking about times I've laughed that hard. A depressing number of them probably involve bodily functions.

[Jennifer]

BG- maybe you should have acted plastered!

Snag... Snag, Snag, Snag...

[blue girl]

Yeah, but I was a dry wall.

[Jennifer]

Owww! BG's on FIYA!

And no... you can't say firewall...

[blue girl]

Can't say firewall? Man, I've been hosed.

Booooooooooooo

[Jennifer]

Oh!!!

[billy pilgrim]

The only time I've ever laughed that hard (that didn't involve medicinal herb) was when my girlfriend walked into a glass door.

Whomp! staggering back, faceprint on the glass. Hell, I'm cracking up now, just thinking about it.

I'm a bad person.

I am jealous of the time with an improv group, Jennifer.

[Pinko Punko]

Reminds me of our Snacktator pitch!!

Did you pitch it?

[Jennifer]

Not yet, Pinko, but I will! :)