Wow, well this last class was a bit…humbling. Here I am thinking I’m doing a pretty good job of absorbing the lessons and applying them…feeling all brave…and then we move from the classroom to the stage. The fear I thought I was beating down starting beating me back. Ideas dried up, hands hid in pockets, and apparently my voice drops to a whisper when I’m nervous. My teacher, Barbara Scott, also made me spit out the gum I was chomping aggressively.
That said, the stakes got higher, but I still went through with it – and I feel pretty good about that, at least. Plus, it helped me to know that I didn’t take this class specifically to become a good actress (if that happens, cool!); I signed up for lessons in public speaking, thinking faster on my feet, and because the challenge of doing something frightening was just too good to pass up. My real goal is to get to a point where I can willingly make an ass out of myself and feel just fine about it…maybe even do it without a shred of hesitation.
But, this time, I definitely hesitated. My partner would throw out a line, giving me something juicy to work with, and I found myself stalling. Either I had nothing to give them, or the something I gave them was really, well, generic and boring. I was feeling pretty bad about not moving the scene along creatively until our teacher pointed out that it’s natural to reach for the obvious. Apparently I’m not the only newbie to the stage stricken with the boring disease.
To help us with that, Barbara pushed us to think further outside the obvious using a simple, but effective sound: the ding of a little bell. When we heard that sound, whomever just spoke or did something would have to redo what they just did in a completely different way.
So, for example, I just said, “I need to tell you something.” My partner (who is my best friend in this scene) turns to me and says, “Yes?”.
Then I say, “I’ve always been secretly in love with you.”
DING
I change my strategy and now say, “I purposefully ruined my Harvard application because I didn’t want to end up at the same school as you. I just didn’t know how to tell you that we’re too joined at the hip, and I need to live my own life. Community college was my only way out of your shadow.”
I know, the logic is ridiculous, but it’s a heck of a lot more interesting than the overplayed “I’m in love with my best friend” storyline.
Sometimes our teacher would ding the bell 3, 4, 5 times to make someone stretch further and further until they got to something really wild and compelling. And every ding was worth it, because, inevitably, the scene would go in a more interesting direction.
This exercise reminded me not to take the easy route. It showed that I need to watch out for the impulse to grab the obvious (comfort), and instead stretch past it to something just outside its borders (discomfort). And then, reach even further because that’s where the good stuff lives.
——
This series is now complete. Read about the rest of my improv experiences at BATS Theater:
Improv Class #5: Choose Your Status
Improv Class #3: Don’t Anticipate
Improv Class #2: An Agile Mind
Improv Class #1: Getting Out Of My Own Way
