Over the past four days, I've seen more improv than I have in the past four months. Some of the shows were horrible. Some were really good.
I haven't actually done anything with improv yet. We're still in "break" mode, but I think we're going to get back together soon. The allure is just too much to resist.
Why did we stop seeing each other in the first place? Well, it wasn't just me. It was improv too. And when I saw improv this weekend, I was definitely reminded of all its flaws.
I was in a weird place. I just wasn't having fun, and if you're not enjoying something, why do it? I get a lot of shit for having that mindset, but I really do think it's applicable to everything, barring certain situations (if you're not enjoying your job, quit and find one you do enjoy, you know? Unless you're trying to raise a family, in which case, sorry, man...). I wasn't enjoying improv. I would get frustrated every time I got on stage, I'd be in my head, I'd be striving for perfection and get upset when I wouldn't achieve it. I was more concerned with the destination than with the journey, which is stupid with improv because there is no end destination there. The whole thing is about the journey. You're not getting anywhere with improv. Unless you're TJ or Dave, you're not going to make any money with it.
But that's where I was.
And I was frustrated with improv because it's super competitive here in Chicago. It seems like no matter how hard I work or try, I wasn't getting anywhere. Also, I don't know if it's just me, but Chicago improv people are super weird in the sense that most of them, unless you can offer them something, won't really talk to me. I saw 12 people that I knew on Monday night. I'm facebook friends with all 12 of them. Out of those 12, two came up to me and talked to me. And of those two, only one seemed genuinely happy to see me.
I don't know why that is. It might be more of an "Alf" problem than an "improv people" problem, but it sucks. Improv is a team sport and if that team is insincere and I feel like they ain't got my back, what's the point?
Which is one of the reasons I very much enjoyed two of the shows I saw. One of them was "Ideal Boy" in Houston, the other was "Villain" in Chicago. Both just seemed like they were having so much fun. They really liked each other and genuinely wanted to see everyone on the team succeed. That's infectious, man. That sense of fun spreads to the audience and everyone has a blast. The performers have fun doing it and the audience has fun partaking in the experience.
"Ideal Boy" had this crazy ass meta-form that seemed like it was rehearsed, but I later learned was improvised. And that blew my mind because it was really good and a clever statement on improv in general. "Villain" just totally had each other's backs and actually liked performing with each other, which was so refreshing and fun to see. The group after them seemed like they did not even want to be there and a lot of the times they weren't on the same page. In FACT, with "Villain" after EVERY scene, nearly EVERY member of the group was smiling. With the second group, I rarely saw that. In FACT, with a few scenes, people actually walked off the stage scowling or frowning. One girl even shook her head in disgust.
That is something that I never want to deal with. Support, man. SUPPORT. We're all in this together. Don't make it harder than it has to be by being all judge-y and petty and shit. SUPPORT.
I've dealt with a lot more of that here in Chicago than I ever did in Houston or Austin. Maybe because improv is so prevalent here? I dunno. In Houston, improv was precious. Our rehearsal time/space was limited and we cherished every minute of it. In Chicago, there nearly a dozen theaters putting on different shows every night of the week. Each of those theaters has dozens of troupes. In Houston, we had four troupes and nary a theater to any of them (well, ComedySportz had a theater, but that was it!).
I dunno, man. I love improv. I miss it. I'm going back to it. But it's tough sometimes.
I'm gonna go on a 20-mile bike ride now.
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