The world is our oyster doing improv, but at what point does our boundary-pushing toe the line on tastefulness?
At last year’s prestigious Del Close Marathon, an ASSSSCAT 3000 show yielded one of the most uncomfortable audience monologues this world over. An audience member (later identified as a cook/host at Second City Chicago who has since moved) volunteered to tell a story for the Upright Citizen’s Brigade troupe to use as inspiration for their form (see last week’s post about suggestions and why it’s a good thing we don’t take them too literally). What started off as a funny story of the art of picking up a woman turned into a borderline-horrific account of a greaseball essentially molesting a woman and laughing about it as if it were a scene from his favorite Judd Apatow movie.
Of course, this was certainly not the fault of the improvisers. They handled the situation, which was covered by national media, with the utmost respect and grace for what they could have done. What could have been a truly painful form to sit through lampooning a very serious potential confession was mostly diffused for the time being and the form explored things other than blatant sexual assault. A couple members of the all-male cast even pointed out how uncomfortable the man’s tale was making everyone.
So what do we do about other players making us uncomfortable and making sure we don’t shatter a perfectly good improv relationship by mortifying them onstage? An article on Talking Improv featuring vlogger Grace Helbig from the Daily Grace explored the idea that just because we as improvisers seem down for anything as we “fly by the seat of our pants” doesn’t mean we’re comfortable exploring particular topics. A good rule of thumb is to play it safe with a group you’re not used to playing with; there’s no need to offend someone right off the bat by referencing their race or sexuality in a form unless you know they are 100 percent OK with it.
But even players with a strong repertoire can toe the line. I was in an improv show during UF’s Relay for Life and, being groggy at 2 a.m., I encouraged a male fellow player to lift me up during a game of Stunt Doubles. The game itself relies on big physical movements, and I absolutely trusted him to have my back. Unfortunately, a combination of rash boldness and middle-of-the-night hyperactivity gave him the bright idea to lift me up and go to jump off the stage with me in his arms. Now, I’m about 5’3 and even that relatively low stage seemed like I was standing at the bow of the RMS Titanic. Therefore, I sacrificed a potentially hilarious (and dangerous) bit to fall backwards onto the center of the stage and probably made him look like a bumbling, confused fool. I felt bad for a moment, but instantly thought to myself, “How could he not know I would NEVER agree to do that?” But, again, we all make mistakes. I gave him a look and all is right with the world.
Moral of the story? Play it safe with unfamiliar players, react smartly in uncomfortable situations and contriving a scene in which you grope a hot girl at a jam is not playing to the top of your intelligence. So don’t do it.