Lessons from Improv 101 at UCB

Ari Voukydis was my teacher for Improv 101 at UCB. I learned a lot from him about not only improv, but big picture lessons about comedy. I took a bunch of notes during the class but never got around to typing them up...until now. Here's a sampling:

More of your scenes should be bad than good. If you're not failing, you're sticking to your comfort zone.

Laughter and surprise go together: Laughter is there to tell the tribe that a surprise is safe.

The hard part of improv: Being willing to be a jackass.

You have to agree with your scene partner: "Yes, and..." That forces people to say things that add info. Don't ask questions unless they add information.

Within 3 lines, you should establish who, what, where.

Don't try to be funny. You want a real emotional reaction, you're not crafting jokes. Let the scene be funny, don't make it funny. It's like getting laid...You'll accomplish your goal a lot more if you don't try so hard.

Characters need to care about something.

Don't go negative. It's easy to disagree but it leads to a bad place. Antagonism is not funny.

Needy is not funny. Trying to be funny makes you look like you're trying not to be unfunny. It's like falling in love, you can't look for it...It just happens.

Give up on the part of the brain that goes to fear, safety, advance planning, etc. Be afraid. Lose the left brain analytical guy. That part of the brain kills improv.

How do you get good? Time and failure. You just have to get your shitty scenes out of the way.

Comedy relies on truth and specificity.

"Do I believe you?" is key to scenes. And so are details. They fill in the blank canvas. Someone who drinks Maker's Mark on the rocks is totally different than someone who drinks Kamikaze shots. Attention to detail is your best friend.

Pretend to use stuff ("object work"). 75% of great info in a scene comes from object work.

Everything you do on stage is true. Don't point a gun with a finger or use fingers as a phone. Pretend to hold a phone the real way.

Aristotle: "Character is revealed by conduct." How you do what you do is who you are.

Two questions in object work...1) Q: How do I do this. A: Just fucking do it. 2) Q: Am I doing this right? A: Yes. There's no "I don't know how to do this."

Three parts to a scene: action, emotion, and dialogue. If the audience thinks you're afraid, they won't laugh.

Be aware of your sight lines, face the fourth wall.

Narrow the gulf between the way humans behave and the way improvisers behave.

Emotions are the most important part of the scene.

Show, don't tell. The less you cockblock the scene, the better. Just let it happen.

Don't talk about what you're doing, talk bout something mundane that reveals your character (like Tarantino's hit men discussing Big Macs).

Improvisers always like longer scenes. Audiences always like shorter ones. Three line scenes can be surprisingly good. People like performing long, but audiences like watching quick.

Character work: Everything you need is in the first three seconds of a scene.

Try leading with a body part. Lead with your chin or your shoulders or your elbows and the character will follow.

Pick someone you know and play a cartoon version of them.

Don't worry about being funny. Be real.

Sing or don't sing, but don't debate whether to do it.

Everything that happens is real.

Comedy is tension broken.

It's ok if a scene isn't funny. Be ballsy and it will work. People onstage are the worst at judging whether or not something's funny.

Follow the path of least resistance.

Making sense doesn't matter.

Listening is manifesting a will to change.

Status is a manifestation of where a person sees themself in the world. There's a difference between status and rank. High status + low rank = a retarded snob. High/low status dichotomies are the bases of lots of sitcoms: "Who's the boss?," "Mr. Belvedere," Etc.

We tend to compress when we repeat things.

The game of the scene = what the scene's really all about. It has nothing to do with the plot of the scene. It's the pattern that repeats itself (like the theme in a Seinfeld or Curb episode).

Finding the game: Find the first unusual thing that happens in the scene, and repeat it or expand on it. Why is it unusual? How can you use that? If this, then what else?

Want more? At the end of the class, Ari handed us some this collection of Improv Scene Work Notes by Ian Roberts. There's lots of good stuff there too.

Labels: , ,

Look like you know what you're doing

Saw the improv group Mother at UCB recently. They were all strong but one guy, Jason Mantzoukas, really killed it. This interview with him has some good bits about improv and comedy in general.

On owning the stage...

That’s what makes improv fail onstage -- when people can’t be confident on stage or feel comfortable on stage. Improv is the only world in which there’s a contract between the audience and the group that we all know you’re making this up so we’ll be forgiving to a degree, but if you show any weakness, if you’re at all nervous or hesitant, the audience shuts you off completely. ‘I don’t feel comfortable because I know the person’s failing.’ And they clam up.

That’s why people who just own the stage will get laughs at something that’s not even that funny. The audience is reacting with relief that it’s going well. ‘Thank god this person knows what they’re doing. This is great.’ That’s something you learn by standing in front of an audience and doing it.


On comedy career paths...

That’s one of the super-frustrating things about a career in this industry -- there is no path, there is no way to do it. Everyone starts out at the beginning of the forest, is given a machete and told the end is somewhere out there, figure it out. You have to chop your way through the whole things.


On using patterns onstage...

The thing is, all games are is patterns -- patterns of behavior. Patterns should be a tool you use all the time. It’s a grounding device that allows you, your partner and the audience to understand that you’re still playing within the constructs that you’ve established for them to understand forward movement...Otherwise improv could be so diffuse that you could very easily lose people because it doesn’t make sense, so a pattern always helps you.

It’s like chord changes in a jazz solo. You understand what’s underneath it and you get it. It’s different now but it’s still John Coltrane playing “My Favorite Things.” You recognize “My Favorite Things” even though it sounds nothing like it right now. I grew up playing drums and playing jazz, so that’s how I think of it a lot. The pattern exists, and then I’m just playing on top of it.


Labels: ,

Subscribe to Matt Ruby's email list:

rss  Subscribe to RSS feed for this blog
rss  Get this blog delivered by email
facebook  Facebook: Be Matt's friend
myspace  MySpace: Be Matt's friend
twitter  Twitter: Follow Matt

Home page of Sandpaper Suit