30th
Guest Writer: Etan Muskat (Toronto)
Etan Muskat is an actor, writer and improviser. He is a member of the improv troupe The Bitter End and co-creator of the Bitter End webseries http://thebitterend.tv.
“It’s Improv. It’s never gonna be that good.”
I heard these words come out of the mouth of a fellow improviser, during a particularly grueling post-show notes session, and it’s become something of an in-joke for a bunch of us: an easy-out catch-phrase for when you feel like there’s nothing more to be said about a scene, a show, or especially, a mistake. At the time I heard it, it was the ultimate blow-off: “Who cares whether we succeed or fail, we’re just making all this stuff up.” But as I’ve thought about it over the years, I’ve found there’s a kind of wisdom in this statement, despite the gloomy nihilism.
It begs a question: how ’good’ can improv be? I mean, can there be improv masterpieces, the way there are movies, books, paintings, or plays? Why do we commit ourselves this crazy artform when our greatest achievements disappear the moment they’re over? WHAT ARE WE DOING?
Okay, I’ll back up a step. I came to improv fairly late, at the ripe old age of 25. I had done a bit in high school drama, including a stint in our school’s Comedy Troupe in the 10th grade, but after that I didn’t think much more about it, other than catching the odd episode of “Who’s Line Is It Anyway?”. I went to university to study english, film and art, planning all along to write fiction and draw comics. Both of these activities involved endless hours of sitting alone in a room, hunched over a computer or drawing table, obsessing, perfecting and polishing a piece of work that, if it ever even got finished, may never get seen by a single soul. At the end of the day you can stick the finished product in a drawer and keep it there forever.
After a couple of years at this I was coaxed into trying out a free improv workshop in Montreal, and the rest is history. One thing that was revolutionary for me was the notion of embracing spontaneity. When you write, you feel the need to get everything perfect, every word and punctuation mark (this comes from school, I think). You also feel the need to be totally original in every idea, because of the pitfalls of cliches, and the fear that you’ll be compared to the entire history of literature. And these are valid concerns, but they can be STIFLING! Writer’s block isn’t an inability to think of ideas, it’s a refusal to BELIEVE in your ideas. It’s second-guessing everything.
But how thrilling to be totally spontaneous, having no time for doubt! Rather than torturing myself over whether to describe a character as “ebullient” or “effervescent”, I could just go up on stage, be the character, and smile! There is a freedom in improv that’s exhilarating. When I would get stuck, directors and teachers would say stuff to me like “You know what to do!” or “Just tell us what’s in the box!”, and rather than hum and haw trying to come up with a good answer, I could just say whatever the heck popped into my head! Of course it wasn’t always so easy, but I really WANTED it to be.
In “Impro: Improvisation and the Theatre”, Keith Johnstone says this: “We struggle against our imaginations, especially when we try to be imaginative. We are not responsible for the content of our imaginations. And we are not, as we are taught to think, our ‘personalities’, but it’s the imagination that is our true self.” He talks about ‘freeing’ the imagination, of allowing it to spill out untainted by self-consciousness. Our job as improvisors is to curate what we put IN to our heads, not what we let out.
Recently I’ve found myself teaching more, and I’ve had a number of conversations with students having the same problem: hesitation. Being afraid to say the wrong thing, because they don’t want to say something stupid and ruin the scene. You can always tell which improvisers are the writers, because they so rarely smile on stage. They are THINKING. And thinking is a surefire way to spoil the moment, like trying to make a joke right before kissing someone for the first time.
So if I have any wisdom to impart, it’s this: Stop thinking. Be bold. Take risks. Look stupid. Let your demons out. Bug your scene partner. Play. If you’re honest, playful, open and bold, you can pretty much get away with anything you want on stage. And the audience will love you for it.
There are no second drafts in improv, so you’ll never benefit from thinking about what you could have done, should have done differently. Instead, think about what you could try next time.
When I think back on the quote that started this off, I realize that what this improviser meant was: “It’s improv. It’s never going to be perfect.” Now isn’t that an inspiring thought?
Previous guests: Rick Andrews, Kristen Schier, Andy Eninger, Jeroen Van Dyck, Remy Bertrand, Caspar Shjelbred, Sean Michaels, Kareem Badr, RobYn Slade, Ian Parizot, Rachel Klein, Dave Morris, Alex Wlasenko, From the old blog
