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fandomtownies2013-01-31 11:14 am
ihaveavideoblog.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomtownies2013-01-31 11:14 am
Entry tags:
Improv Class, The Boards, Thursday Evening
Now that they were into the swing of things, Lizzie and Jono had decided to take alternating weeks of the improv class. Lizzie had expected to be nervous, about her first solo outing, but she wasn't. It felt like they'd been doing this forever.
"This week, we're pulling from a classic bit of sketch comedy," she announced, when it looked like everyone had settled in. "Sketch comedy isn't the same as improv, but they have similar roots, and this particular skit lends itself well to an improv activity. The skit is called The Four Yorkshiremen, but all you need to know is that it's an elaborate game of Top-That."
And everyone had a friend who was a master at Top-That, right?
"Here's the premise. Four men sit around drinking tea and reminiscing about how poor they were, in the past. Every time someone makes a speech, the next person has to escalate. You lived in a hole in a ground? Oh, well, we lived in a lake. So the next person sighs about how they would have dreamed of living in a lake, what with living in a rolled-up newspaper in a septic tank. And the circle goes around until it devolves into utter lunacy.
"It's hilarious, and it's also pretty fun to try. So: we're going to pair off and play Top-That. It doesn't have to be poverty-based; use any superlative you like. Which of you had the most tiring day. Which of you had the best news this morning. Which of you is the luckiest person alive. There are a couple of ground rules, though, and they're important."
She cleared her throat and glanced around at their students. "The first rule is: no denying your partner's reality. It's a fundamental rule in any improv exercise, but this game is really going to push that to the limits. If your partner announces that they had triplets this morning, and then twins this afternoon? Then they did. You don't roll your eyes and say that's impossible. You accept it and you go from there.
"So no, the natural laws of physics don't apply here. Kind of freeing, isn't it?"
It was good when a rule could also loosen a restriction like that.
"The next rule is, be inventive. It's more of a suggestion than a rule, but it's still very important. You don't top triplets and twins by going for octuplets and quadruplets. Make a sudden left turn. You sigh and state that you only wish you had the free time to have children, since you've been so busy travelling the world forty-seven times a day feeding the homeless. This game is about creativity.
"The last rule is that whatever went before, counts. You can play fast and loose with this, but it's kind of fun to have to take into account what you said previously while adapting to whatever new direction the game is going in. In the original sketch, someone mentions getting evicted from the hole in the ground so they can up their game to living in a shoebox in the middle of the road. Maybe nannies are raising your triplets and twins so you can go door to door hand-washing the elderly."
Okay, that mental picture wasn't ... exactly ideal.
"Or maybe you haven't slept in a week, and your partner insists that she hasn't slept since two years ago. You can't state that you haven't slept since the 1940s. At least, not without explaining that when you said "sleep," you meant resting your eyes for thirty seconds, and you haven't had real sleep since at least the Truman administration. Or maybe you wouldn't mind the no-sleep so much if you'd been fed this month. Or allowed to change your clothes."
Lizzie beamed at the students. "Above all, have fun with it. Sigh, roll your eyes, and make sure everyone knows that their story might be cute, but you had it really tough. Or exciting. Or wonderful. Pick a direction and throw a brick onto the gas pedal. Don't worry about logic, just go for it. Ready?"
"This week, we're pulling from a classic bit of sketch comedy," she announced, when it looked like everyone had settled in. "Sketch comedy isn't the same as improv, but they have similar roots, and this particular skit lends itself well to an improv activity. The skit is called The Four Yorkshiremen, but all you need to know is that it's an elaborate game of Top-That."
And everyone had a friend who was a master at Top-That, right?
"Here's the premise. Four men sit around drinking tea and reminiscing about how poor they were, in the past. Every time someone makes a speech, the next person has to escalate. You lived in a hole in a ground? Oh, well, we lived in a lake. So the next person sighs about how they would have dreamed of living in a lake, what with living in a rolled-up newspaper in a septic tank. And the circle goes around until it devolves into utter lunacy.
"It's hilarious, and it's also pretty fun to try. So: we're going to pair off and play Top-That. It doesn't have to be poverty-based; use any superlative you like. Which of you had the most tiring day. Which of you had the best news this morning. Which of you is the luckiest person alive. There are a couple of ground rules, though, and they're important."
She cleared her throat and glanced around at their students. "The first rule is: no denying your partner's reality. It's a fundamental rule in any improv exercise, but this game is really going to push that to the limits. If your partner announces that they had triplets this morning, and then twins this afternoon? Then they did. You don't roll your eyes and say that's impossible. You accept it and you go from there.
"So no, the natural laws of physics don't apply here. Kind of freeing, isn't it?"
It was good when a rule could also loosen a restriction like that.
"The next rule is, be inventive. It's more of a suggestion than a rule, but it's still very important. You don't top triplets and twins by going for octuplets and quadruplets. Make a sudden left turn. You sigh and state that you only wish you had the free time to have children, since you've been so busy travelling the world forty-seven times a day feeding the homeless. This game is about creativity.
"The last rule is that whatever went before, counts. You can play fast and loose with this, but it's kind of fun to have to take into account what you said previously while adapting to whatever new direction the game is going in. In the original sketch, someone mentions getting evicted from the hole in the ground so they can up their game to living in a shoebox in the middle of the road. Maybe nannies are raising your triplets and twins so you can go door to door hand-washing the elderly."
Okay, that mental picture wasn't ... exactly ideal.
"Or maybe you haven't slept in a week, and your partner insists that she hasn't slept since two years ago. You can't state that you haven't slept since the 1940s. At least, not without explaining that when you said "sleep," you meant resting your eyes for thirty seconds, and you haven't had real sleep since at least the Truman administration. Or maybe you wouldn't mind the no-sleep so much if you'd been fed this month. Or allowed to change your clothes."
Lizzie beamed at the students. "Above all, have fun with it. Sigh, roll your eyes, and make sure everyone knows that their story might be cute, but you had it really tough. Or exciting. Or wonderful. Pick a direction and throw a brick onto the gas pedal. Don't worry about logic, just go for it. Ready?"