Illustration by Teri Carson
Well, I stressed out and had nervous diarrhea over
nothing. Once I got to class all my
nerves disappeared and I couldn’t wait to get on my feet. After half an hour of administrative lecturing,
i.e. The Rules and Regulations, we finally got to work.
To learn each other’s names, we were supposed to give ourselves
a moniker, a physical attribute and act it out.
Leper Lisa walked like a zombie (I didn’t correct her because she was
having fun doing that walk), Rappin’ Richie did a weird rapper thing with his
hands, Jumpin’ Jenet, a duck-face blond with huge fake boobs spilling out from
her low-cut camisole, jumped up in the air, etc. And Scary Teri let out a frightening,
ridiculous monster scream. It got big
laughs. Probably not because it was
funny, but because it was incredibly stupid.
I’ve never done anything like that in front of people I don’t know and
it felt really good. The teacher told me
I redefined the exercise. I think my
self-consciousness left my body every time I let out that silly scream.
The first scene we worked on involved ranting about our pet
peeves. We took turns as a group of four
and got up on stage. As soon as the teacher
pointed to a student, she would have to start her rant and not stop until the
teacher pointed to someone else. I could
not believe the ease with which the words came out of my mouth. I didn’t pause and I hardly took a breath. If
you have known me a while, you must be shocked at this. I’m not known as a talker. In fact, I’ve been quite shy all my life and
I don’t let people I don’t know see the real me. I suspect this is going to end by the time I’m
done with this class and I feel sorry for the people around me. I really do.
I guess you’re wondering what my pet peeve is. I will try to recreate my rant (condensed of
course) below:
I’m Mexican and I used to love my people until I moved to
LA. Why? Because of the Laundromat. I
hate going to the Laundromat in LA. It’s
full of Mexicans and all of their family, friends, neighbors, kids and they do
piles and piles and piles of laundry and it’s really hard to get a machine. It makes me feel like a loser that I don’t
own my own machines but worse, it makes me feel horrible about myself. That I have
such horrible feelings towards immigrants.
And then I see they have the same blanket that I do that I bought at the
Tijuana border crossing. And then I try
to grab a cart but they won’t let go because they think the carts belong to
them. And then I think, OH MY GOD AM I
RACIST? I thought I was a good person and now this. Going to the Laundromat makes me feel
horrible horrible horrible!!! Etc.
If you know me, you know this is a very honest rant. It had to be.
At least that’s what I understood the teacher meant by going off at the “top
of your intelligence.” He explained it
didn’t mean expertise or trying to be smart.
It means that you’re supposed to use everything that’s inside you, like
experience, feelings, and opinions. What
you know but that you may be afraid to express.
And that’s what I did and I wasn’t afraid. Most people kept on repeating the same things
in different words and ways because they ran out of material. They tried to be wacky and quirky. If, like the teacher said, you perform at the
top of your intelligence, you’ll never run out of material. So basically I’m doing the live extended
version of what I do on Twitter. Keep
reading and find out how it didn’t end well.
Next, we did a second exercise where three of us, as a
group, were supposed to be talk show guests and the teacher the host. The rules were that we were all equals,
shared a common experience and met in the same place. One by one each scene descended in to the
wacky and absurd. I knew I really wanted
to keep it in reality, but duck-face-boobs hijacked the scene and changed
it. All of a sudden we were on a cruise
ship where closeted gays went to come out. HUH?
The captain wasn’t supposed to dock until every single person on that
ship came out of the closet. My character
basically stayed in her room puking the whole time and when forced to come out
of the room, she puked on duck-face-fake-boobs.
Wow, I thought, so this improv thing really is a fucking
struggle between actors trying to outdo each other. I won’t be casting duck-face-fake-boobs in anything
ever. I think this is going to be my
crux, because as a writer-director, I’m not vying for such attention. My agenda is quite different.
I think I'm the only person that's approaching it from the
perspective of mining truth and reality for comedy. Most of the other students, especially the
women, were trying too hard to be funny, weird, quirky, whatever. They hijack the exercises. It's not like when you can’t think of
anything and go with something wacky.
The women in my class do it on purpose and it's super annoying. So far, the men are more generous.
I did screw up royally but it taught me a lot about what improv
shouldn’t be.
We concluded the night with the Yes, and… exercise. It’s simple but hard to do. Two people are having a conversation and one
starts by making an observation. Then
you say “yes” and repeat what they said and add “and” and another
observation. Repeat. Mine went something like this:
He: I notice there’s a new dent in the car.
Me: Yes, there’s a dent in the car and I’m sorry but I was
hit by an Asian driver.He: Yes, you’re sorry and you were hit by an Asian driver and you didn’t get his insurance information.
Me: Yes, I didn’t get his insurance information and so what, I forgot.
He: Yes, You forgot and now I have to get a second job to pay for it.
Me: Yes, you have to get a second job, and it’s okay because you’re my husband and you love me.
He: Yes, I’m your husband and I love you and --.
There was laughter after every line I delivered. The teacher singled me out. He told me I had used race a second time and that he didn’t want that to be my go-to thing. That in this case race didn’t matter.
I thought about this on the drive back and also most of today. I took an ill-conceived risk and it didn’t
pay off because I had never before experienced lack of control in creating a
scene. I’d like to say I’m fearless but
that would be dishonest. At this point I
can’t say if I’ll become more guarded or not for fear of what people will think
about me. I just don’t know. I’ve been so uncensored and carefree on
Twitter and Facebook for so long that I don’t know how that is going to play
out during this course. I guess I just learned
that Tweeting preposterous one-liners on the internet and acting them out in
front of real people are two very different things.
Lesson #1: If you
want to be in control, just write.
1 comment:
Tell your teacher that races don't exist in nature, only phenotypes.-- Brilliant read! Liz
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