Improv Fantasies
Posted: December 22nd, 2011, 8:58 pm
I have several improv fantasies. One was fulfilled, almost as I imagined, in Maestro last week.
My fantasy went like this:
An amazing scene happens. The Performers know it, the audience knows it, and the director knows it. The audience is full of savvy Maestro fans who know the drill and love the show. This is a five for sure. The director takes the stage and asks the audience to rate the scene:
"Was that scene a one?"
Silence, of course, as the director knowingly smiles and moves quickly through the next several scores."
"Was that scene a two?"
Silence.
"Was that scene a three?"
Silence
"Was that scene a four?"
A little more time elapses, to give a chance for anyone who might be out of the loop of how awesome that scene was to give a hesitant clap of fourdom, and also to allow the tension to build before the sweet release of the rollicking five of applause that this amazing scene is about to receive. But of course there is complete silence. Then, smiling, with a cocky assuredness of what is about to happen, the director asks, "Was that scene a five?"
Silence.
The director is momentarily stunned. Did the audience not understand the scoring process? Did he (I imagine in my fantasy that the director is Andy Crouch, but it could be anyone; in the reality that I will describe momentarily it was in fact Roy Janik) rush too quickly past the ones and twos? But no, the mighty triumph of this scene was undeniable. With a slight hesitation, but knowing the only way out is up, the director slowly asks, "Was that scene a.....six?"
And as soon as that word escapes his lips, before the hiss of the x has expired, the audience is on their feet, applauding, stomping, cheering raucously for the FIRST EVER SIX IN MAESTRO!
How it really happened, was there was a great scene between Paul and Arby (in his first Maestro!) and right before Roy asked, "was that scene a five?" someone in the audience yelled out "That was a six!" and the audience immediately errupted into applause. Roy resisted a little, as of course he should, to make the audience really beg for the six, and finally he gave in. You can watch what happened for yourself in the video of the show at about the hour and 12 minute mark.
Here is another improv fantasy that is only partially realized. There is a this thing called "The JBs" that, like all the best things, came out of people yes-anding a joke/off-handed remark. The idea is that all the improvisors with the initials "JB" in Austin at the time would perform together one night. This idea came about in the online chat room during the 40+ hour marathon one year. I think the show that actually happened involved Jeff Britt, Jill Bernard, Jon Bolden, and some other folks in a Monday Night Mash. But here is my fantasy: The JBs become an improv festival tradition, and every festival or major improv gathering in the US (nay the world!) reserves in its schedule a slot for The JBs, and every improvisor who is in town during the festival is invited to play. The format would vary based on the cast, but everyone would always know and accept that at some point in the festival The JBs would have a show. In fact, it would become so celebrated and anticipated that it would come to be one of the highlights of every improv festival, a special treat that exists only in festival time, fated to disappear as soon as the lights were pulled on the last show of the weekend, and The JBs would go back to being just the regular Joe Bills, John Busemans, and Jolene Balsimos in their regular polyalphabeticly intialed improv projects. But for weekend, one night, one glorious 30 minute show, they were THE JBs.
What are your improv fantasies?
My fantasy went like this:
An amazing scene happens. The Performers know it, the audience knows it, and the director knows it. The audience is full of savvy Maestro fans who know the drill and love the show. This is a five for sure. The director takes the stage and asks the audience to rate the scene:
"Was that scene a one?"
Silence, of course, as the director knowingly smiles and moves quickly through the next several scores."
"Was that scene a two?"
Silence.
"Was that scene a three?"
Silence
"Was that scene a four?"
A little more time elapses, to give a chance for anyone who might be out of the loop of how awesome that scene was to give a hesitant clap of fourdom, and also to allow the tension to build before the sweet release of the rollicking five of applause that this amazing scene is about to receive. But of course there is complete silence. Then, smiling, with a cocky assuredness of what is about to happen, the director asks, "Was that scene a five?"
Silence.
The director is momentarily stunned. Did the audience not understand the scoring process? Did he (I imagine in my fantasy that the director is Andy Crouch, but it could be anyone; in the reality that I will describe momentarily it was in fact Roy Janik) rush too quickly past the ones and twos? But no, the mighty triumph of this scene was undeniable. With a slight hesitation, but knowing the only way out is up, the director slowly asks, "Was that scene a.....six?"
And as soon as that word escapes his lips, before the hiss of the x has expired, the audience is on their feet, applauding, stomping, cheering raucously for the FIRST EVER SIX IN MAESTRO!
How it really happened, was there was a great scene between Paul and Arby (in his first Maestro!) and right before Roy asked, "was that scene a five?" someone in the audience yelled out "That was a six!" and the audience immediately errupted into applause. Roy resisted a little, as of course he should, to make the audience really beg for the six, and finally he gave in. You can watch what happened for yourself in the video of the show at about the hour and 12 minute mark.
Here is another improv fantasy that is only partially realized. There is a this thing called "The JBs" that, like all the best things, came out of people yes-anding a joke/off-handed remark. The idea is that all the improvisors with the initials "JB" in Austin at the time would perform together one night. This idea came about in the online chat room during the 40+ hour marathon one year. I think the show that actually happened involved Jeff Britt, Jill Bernard, Jon Bolden, and some other folks in a Monday Night Mash. But here is my fantasy: The JBs become an improv festival tradition, and every festival or major improv gathering in the US (nay the world!) reserves in its schedule a slot for The JBs, and every improvisor who is in town during the festival is invited to play. The format would vary based on the cast, but everyone would always know and accept that at some point in the festival The JBs would have a show. In fact, it would become so celebrated and anticipated that it would come to be one of the highlights of every improv festival, a special treat that exists only in festival time, fated to disappear as soon as the lights were pulled on the last show of the weekend, and The JBs would go back to being just the regular Joe Bills, John Busemans, and Jolene Balsimos in their regular polyalphabeticly intialed improv projects. But for weekend, one night, one glorious 30 minute show, they were THE JBs.
What are your improv fantasies?
