Posts tagged improv comedy
Kyle Dunnigan is an American comedian, also known for his role as Craig in Reno 911!. Kyle just booked a supporting role in Gus Van Sant’s new film, He Won’t Get Far on Foot and his original pilot Shit Kids just premiered at Sundance Film Festival. He was a writer and performer on all four seasons of Inside Amy Schumer and he won an Emmy for writing the song Girl You Don’t Need Makeup. He continues to be a regular contributor for The Howard Stern Show. Kyle is also a recurring cast member on Tig Notaro’s Amazon series, One Mississippi. He is launching a new website soon: kyledunnigancomedy.com
Josh Bowman recently spoke with Kyle about his upcoming tour, improv comedy, work on Inside Amy Schumer, his mother’s thoughts on his Emmy, and his dog Olive.
JB: So I just thought I’d get your plugs, what dates you’re playing, stuff about your movie, Inside Amy Schumer, anything you want to talk about first.
KD: The tour dates are the most important. The thing [Shit Kids] that went to Sundance…we’re gonna start pitching it soon but that’s about it. And the Inside Amy Schumer thing is, that show’s over now, but…I miss it. So…
JB: Is it done? Why don’t…I feel like I should’ve known that.
KD: Yeah they don’t make any big announcement, they kind of just stop doing shows. It’s a little weird. Sometimes they don’t even tell you if you’re a cast member. Your manager or agent goes “don’t go in tomorrow, it’s not there anymore.”
KD: Yeah. It is crazy. Cause it’s like a family, it’s almost like a family and you go to war together and it’s just, like, it’s over. But that’s the nature of it. Yeah.
JB: And then Professor Blastoff, that ran for a while, and then I guess Tig got too busy with touring and stuff? Because that was a really great podcast, I really liked that podcast a lot.
KD: Yeah…oh thank you. I really liked doing it, you know, Tig and David are my friends and it just felt like chatting, it didn’t really feel like a job and you know we started getting a good following. Yeah, you know it was kind of bittersweet, but we were all pretty busy, and it just wasn’t practical. But I think we may do a special. We’re talking about doing a ten-episode run here and there to kind of keep it going a little bit.
JB: Cool. Yeah, and I think I read somewhere you were thinking of doing another podcast called Brainmail, does that sound right?
KD: Yeah, I feel so bad because I was going to do it, and then Earwolf was dragging their feet and a couple months went by and I was in New York working on the Schumer show and I just got too busy to do it myself. I can go and show up somewhere if someone else has a podcast but for my own I just never really got enough time and energy to throw that way.
JB: It feels like a lot of work.
KD: It really is, and work that I’m not interested in doing. You sort of get into show business because you don’t like to do clerical stuff, and there’s so much of that, and you have to get the website up and all that stuff. Like, my website’s gone, I don’t have a website anymore because that’s how terrible I am at upkeeping.
JB: Yeah I saw that, it was like a spam site…
KD: Yeah it will just destroy your computer, my website just destroys people’s computers now.
JB: Thanks. Yeah.
KD: But I got a new website – kyledunnigancomedy.com, and that will not destroy your computer and I should have dates up there, tour dates.
JB: Great! So you won an Emmy which is amazing.
JB: Did you bring your mom? Was your mom there with you?
KD: I did. Yeah. I brought my mother to the Emmys. She’s very into award shows. It’s almost like I couldn’t not invite her, like whenever there’s an awards show she tells me who should win, even though I don’t even ask her or care she just likes to tell me.
KD: Whenever she sees a movie she goes “So-and-so I predict will be nominated for Best Supporting Actor.” She just lets me know that, and I think she gets dressed up to watch the Oscars and the Emmys, that’s just my hunch. She gets dressed up at home.
JB: So what’s her take on the Oscars thing, on the La La Land thing? Does she have like…I’d love to hear her opinion on that.
KD: Well, I didn’t talk to her too much about it. She didn’t love the movie. Which, I was surprised. It seems right up her alley. She thought it was OK, but didn’t love the dancing and the singing all that much, but when I won the Emmy, the first thing she said to me was “Can they take that away from you?” Those were the first words out of her mouth.
JB: …can they take that away…?
KD: Yeah, I mean…you can just talk to a therapist forever about that.
JB: Yeah…thanks mom.
KD: Yeah it’s always hedging…you know they mean well, they’re afraid of being disappointed so they hedge it, they just try to figure out…you know, what’s the worst thing that can happen and just shoot for that?
JB: I feel like there’s a certain level, there’s a base level where they’re like…OK, it’s OK. They have a roof over their head, you know?
KD: Yeah, and I can imagine, you know, you have a kid, you don’t want them ever to feel pain, but…if your kid doesn’t feel pain they’re gonna grow up to be a useless person.
JB: Yeah. Do you feel like that’s kind of the premise behind Shit Kids at all?
KD: Yeah, actually…yeah. Yeah, it’s almost like, coal without pressure on it, you don’t get the diamond. People who are just gorgeous and life is easy… I think they have it really tough later in life because inherently life isn’t easy. And so you get the message early on that you can just coast through on your looks or your…whatever, and you’re gonna have a rough moment somewhere. Everyone has to feel disappointment and heartbreak, it’s too bad but we all do or else, I don’t know you just come out weird.
JB: Yeah…so on that note, I thought Professor Blastoff was awesome, and part of the reason was because you were all very philosophical and very open. Do you find there’s like a balance in your stand up between going to those places in terms of pulling stuff out that you can use, and then like just doing dumb, funny bits that are just…goofy?
KD: Yeah I kinda drift back and forth. I think I like the silly stuff better to be honest. I think right now the flavour is people being really open, and I think that’s cool and interesting, but I like to be goofy, which isn’t really in right now. But I’m gonna keep doing it.
JB: It’ll come back around, right?
KD: It always does.
JB: So…what is your relationship with music, cause you’ll play the keyboard and you’ll beatbox but you also do it in a way that’s sort of jokey, like that character you did on the Schumer show [Rapper Boyfriend], but then you wrote a song that won an Emmy so you obviously play.
KD: I always played music, kind of like a hobby, therapy type of thing. I never thought that I would win an Emmy for it, it was sort of just for myself. This opportunity came up where Amy said do you want to write the music and I was like “yeah!”
JB: But it’s not just that…like you’ll have a keyboard in your set or you’ll have a loop pedal in your set…
KD: Yeah…I had a very musical uncle and I think I got some of his interest in music. I’m probably trying to live out a rock star life. Without a lot of people noticing.
JB: Secret rock star!
KD: Yeah, in my head like I’m playing for a huge crowd that thinks I’m cool.
JB: Yeah. I mean, aren’t comics like rock stars now?
KD: Yeah…some of them are, some of them have this swagger, like they walk around and they point and squat. It does feel like some of them are doing rock shows. And a lot of rock stars wanna be comedians. It’s a weird thing. Like I know some successful musicians and they kinda wanna be comedians and all comedians kind of wanna be, you know, cool…
KD: We don’t wanna be so black and white – “you can’t pigeonhole me!” So we wanna do something else…
JB: Yeah…I think you’re right, or I think maybe like that part of your brain that’s creative, there can be some parallels with musicians and with comics, right? Like maybe there’s a similarity like you’re kind of weird in high school or you always wanted to perform or you wanted to face your fear…
KD: Yeah, you’re right. There’s also a lifestyle similarity of being on the road, there’s some similar things, and I relate to people who are musicians and their life is sort of similar.
JB: Yeah. So I know that in one of your interviews you said, and I don’t know if this was tongue in cheek, but you said you might be further along if you had just focussed on stand up, but that you like working on different projects and you find that exciting.
KD: It depends on what you want. Like the lifestyle I wanted…I wanted to do different things. This is right for me to jump around, but if you wanna be like the best stand-up comedian for example, you really need to focus on it. That’s just how it is. I feel like people want you to be one thing, and I understand that. Like Dudley Moore, he was a funny actor and he actually was a really good piano player, and one time I saw him on TV playing the piano and in my head I was like, I want him to stop it! Cause I was like, you’re Dudley Moore, not a good piano player. I was confused.
KD: I kind of jump around. I mean, like right now I’m doing a lot of home improvement stuff on my house. I think I wanna be a contractor for buildings. Like every month I wanna do something different. So I might go into that. Building homes.
JB: Yeah, so this interview is kinda pointless…have fun…
KD: Well, I don’t know, a homebuilders magazine might be interested in this interview.
JB: Yeah you’re right.
KD: Like I refinished my floors last month. There’s a lot of fun stuff here.
JB: So you did improv with Groundlings and then improv in New York? Is that right?
KD: I was in a couple of improv groups in New York, yeah. One was called “Some Assembly Required”, we’d do corporate gigs, we weren’t all that great. I was in another group when I first got to New York but they were charging me, it was just kind of a scam.
JB: Right. So the Groundlings was kind of where it took off for you would you say?
KD: No…I was in New York and I sort of realized there’s no money in improv or sketch, there’s really no money unless you get on Saturday Night Live. So I had done stand up once in high school and I thought, let me do that. Once I started doing that I got some attention and then I got on Conan O’Brien. I got a few things off that, like a manager and agent in L.A., and that’s how it sort of took off for me, and then I did the Groundlings once I came out here kind of just for fun.
JB: Oh OK…interesting. So you wouldn’t say that the improv stuff was foundational for your stand up or for your career?
KD: Not really, to be honest. The Groundlings was…I met a lot of great people there and I’m really glad I did it but it was so crowded. We had 21 people, and I was in the Sunday Company, you’d have like one sketch. They’ve since pared it down, they don’t do that anymore. They keep their classes small.
JB: Interesting, OK. Yeah. So the reason I was asking about that was it feels like a lot of people who do comedy now that is their background.
KD: Oh yeah, yeah.
JB: And it’s interesting for you to say “I did it, it was fine, but it wasn’t really my…”
KD: Yeah it didn’t really help me career wise at all, like I did a sketch show before I did The Groundlings, it was called Cedric the Entertainer, it was on Fox, and that was the only real sketch, you know, thing I made money doing and that was before the Groundlings.
JB: So a lot of your characters, you choose weird-looking people that you do impressions of. Is that physicality a big part of the comedy for you?
KD: I guess…yeah that Craig character on Reno I’ve been doing since I was very young. I have pictures of myself like at 9 years old doing that character. I don’t know, I just deform my face and that character kind of came out of that, making that face.
JB: Right. So then when you do Caitlyn Jenner and Donald Trump…
KD: It’s kind of funny, like Caitlyn Jenner talks like that…she’s kind of like “Oh yeah!” Her voice goes right up high, she has kind of a lisp on her ‘s’s and stuff.
KD: You know what I mean, like… “yeah baby!” It’s her catchphrase…yeah baby.
JB: Right. Is that her catchphrase?
KD: Yeah kind of…doesn’t it feel like it? I don’t know if she’s ever said it, but it kind of feels like it.
JB: It feels like she says it in like her, in just the way she is.
KD: Yeah. And Trump is like “terrific,” “believe me,” that’s his phrase. “Believe me.”
JB: Yeah yeah…oh God he’s…yeah. This is a weird time.
KD: I know it’s…it’s exhausting. I’m exhausted.
JB: It’s exhausting, right?
KD: When I do the impression in my stand up now, I can feel people just like…they don’t even want to hear the impression, they’re just so mad. Sometimes it’s hard to lampoon him because he’s such a cartoon of himself. You usually go a little bit further than what the person does and that’s what’s funny, but he goes there for you, and there’s almost nothing to say other than what he actually says.
JB: Like Tina Fey did with Sarah Palin but it’s somehow different now.
KD: Yeah. But we’ll get through it, we’ll live.
JB: I mean I’ll be fine. I’m doing great.
KD: You’ll be fine. You’re in Canada.
JB: I’m in Canada, I’m white, I’m male. I’m really….
KD: Yeah, you’re all set.
JB: Do you find writing partners like Tig, or Amy Schumer…is it like if that dynamic clicks you say I wanna work with you, I wanna write with you…is that kind of how it happens?
KD: Different ways…I mean with Tig, I just…you know I just loved her right away, we just immediately clicked, we had the same sense of humour pretty much. You know it was obvious, we just had so much fun together.
KD: I’m writing with somebody now, and that happened a little differently. He’s a funny comic and he just had an idea for a movie and I thought it was a good idea, so that’s how we started writing together.
JB: Do you think you could write with anyone?
KD: Pretty much…some people will be more helpful than other people. I think I couldn’t write with somebody who was very strong-headed and had a different sense of humour, that would be impossible. If you didn’t agree that something was funny and weren’t willing to compromise, like…that won’t work.
JB: Let’s suppose there’s a big network comedy that stinks but pays good money. Do you feel like you could write for it but it wouldn’t be great, or have fun with it…?
KD: I would like to think I would have fun, but I wouldn’t do it unless I needed some money. There was something I turned down recently that was good money but just not something I wanted to be involved in.
KD: I liked writing on Amy’s show because it’s nice being with a group. In stand up a lot of what I write is alone. And having a schedule’s nice.
JB: Yeah yeah…it’s not just you in a room in your pajamas like at 3 a.m., right?
KD: Yeah, like a crazy person.
JB: …collecting your fingernails…
KD: Like a raving lunatic.
JB: Yeah…yeah, I feel like there’s a fine line between successful comedian and raving lunatic.
KD: There’s no line. Same thing.
JB: The only other thing I wanted to say, because it seems to keep coming up that you like Billy Joel.
KD: Oh yeah, I love Billy Joel!
KD: Oh OK.
JB: And I just really think you should listen to it because it’s really weird.
KD: I would love to.
JB: Yeah, it’s pretty great. Anything you wanted to add?
KD: No…I’d love people to come to my shows, because I do these little rock clubs now, and they’re fun shows and I used to get like a lot of Professor Blastoff people, those are the best fans…they just bring me things. This is my first tour without Professor Blastoff, but I hope they still come because I would get like little gifts and stuff. It’s nice.
Catch Kyle on tour in the following cities:
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Josh Bowman is a professional fundraiser, story-teller, comedian, and blogger. He has worked and consulted in Vancouver, New York, and now Toronto for almost a decade. Josh also runs and writes for tenthingsivelearned.com, writes for The Huffington Post, sings and improvises.
The longer you take to decide on a team name, the shorter you’ll stay a team.
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You’ve trained. You’ve rehearsed. You’re ready to rock’n’roll. But where?
In the past, improvisers performed where they studied, or looked for existing shows to be part of. Now a new breed of players is getting creative in the ongoing pursuit of stage time.
Retailers have pop-up spaces, why not improvisers? The idea “popped” in my head last year. But while I was still musing, Kelly Buttermore was making it happen. Countdown Theater is a pop-up improv space in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. (Could it be any cooler?) It opened February 1st this year, and closes April 1st. In her words, it’s “an ephemeral space for an ephemeral art form.”
Do what Kelly did: keep your eyes peeled for potential locations, then get in touch with the landlord or lease holder. Invite other teams, and maybe even collaborate with other artists in your community (musicians, dancers, painters, etc.) It’s a buzz-worthy way to showcase talent, and who knows where it might lead you?
Podcast Your Passion
There’s a podcast for practically everything nowadays, from modern love to mental health to mostly made-up movies. Most podcasts are two people and a mic in a basement, but why not do it in front of an audience? Here are three podcasts that do just that.
Improv Nerd is a show, a podcast, and an improv master class rolled into one. Host Jimmy Carrane has interviewed and performed with the cream of comedy, including Key & Peele, Scott Adsit, Rachel Dratch, TJ & Dave, and The Improvised Shakespeare Company to name a few of his over 200 guests.
Comedy Bang! Bang! The show that launched a thousand catchphrases, Scott Aukerman’s Comedy Bang! Bang! has been making fans laugh with improvised nonsense since 2009. While it started on Earwolf and later aired on TV for five seasons, the core players have also performed live. Last year they toured North America, as well as four stops Down Under. Regular cast members include Paul F. Tompkins, Lauren Lapkus, Jason Mantzoukas, Andy Daly, Ben Schwartz, Matt Besser, and Bob Odenkirk. All joking a salad, we heart CBB.
Illusionoid Nug Nahrgang, Paul Bates, and Lee Smart have been bringing their brand of sci-fi comedy to audiences for almost a decade. Past guests include Colin Mochrie, Sean Cullen, The Templeton Philharmonic, and Scott Thompson.
According to Nug, “The show is like Twlight Zone or Tales from the Crypt. There’s a host, and it’s this man from the future, the last surviving human, and he’s sending these stories backwards in time in hopes that we’ll prevent these horrible things from happening.” (We can think of something we’d like to prevent, Nug…)
They’ve just signed with Antica Productions, the folks behind Gord Downie’s Secret Path. If you can’t catch the show in person, subscribe here.
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If you really want to think outside The Harold, go beyond improv and appeal to a whole new audience. Abra Cadaver met in the Second City Longform Conservatory program, and have gone on to perform for packed houses across the city. We asked them about their signature show, Bunz Live.
P&C: Your show is called Bunz Live. How did you come up with it?
Molly: Cameron Algie was our coach at the time–
Molly: (laughs) He was really encouraging us because we’re a very theatrical group, to kind of use our bodies because we’re all really comfortable “movers,” to try and find a form that would encapsulate that. And there’s also this burgeoning community called Bunz. It’s an online platform where you can trade items for anything. Like, if I have an extra shoe, I can trade it for some ramen noodles.
Robbie: Of all of the examples, that was not the most amazingly descriptive example, but…
Antonis: Let’s say this: someone can teach you piano, but they won’t ask for money, they’ll ask for a sofa because they really need a sofa.
P&C: That’s one of the things about Bunz, no cash is allowed, is that right?
Molly: Yes, exactly. No cash, only item for item.
Robbie: Side note: it ends up being a lot of people asking for tokens and beer, and subway tokens are kinda funny because it looks like money, people treat it like money, so why don’t they just give each other money?
Antonis: Plus it has an exact monetary value.
Robbie: Maybe they haven’t heard of this thing called “money.”
Dana: Another interesting thing in coming up with the form was that Cam kind of wanted to expand us to the idea of thinking outside of just the Conservatory. Thinking like, OK, if you’re gonna take the time and you want to explore something and make a show, really think about, “What’s something that hasn’t been explored in Toronto?”
That was something we weren’t necessarily thinking of when we were making our form. It [went from], “What hasn’t been done [in long form]?” to “What’s happening right now that hasn’t really been explored, that might have an audience?” And there’s a huge Bunz community.
Molly: I feel like we got lucky. In Toronto there was this online start-up company, and we were like this online improv company (laughs) no, live improv company. It just kind of worked; we were both coming up at the same time and a lot of people we knew were also involved in that community. And it was an audience outside of the comedy audience.
P&C: That’s what’s so interesting. As you know, improvisers often end up performing for other improvisers. We’re always asking “How do we get people from outside the community to come and see a show?” Especially when the players are at a certain level, performing to a handful of people, you think, “Aaaaahhh, if only more people could see this!” Get more people into the cult. (laughs) And I find the vibe in the room can be really great when there’s new people.
Molly: Absolutely. We’re just starting out, but even connecting with the Bunz team at their headquarters was so great to say, “We’ve got an idea, we’re trying something new. You’ve got an idea, you’re trying something new.” It’s awesome.
P&C: So how did you approach Bunz?
Molly: I’ve played in bands in Toronto, and I had played with Emily who started Bunz in a new year’s show at the Silver Dollar. She played in a band called Milk Lines. I was friends with her on Facebook and then noticed that she was starting Bunz. So when we started playing with the idea, I got in touch with her and it kinda went from there.
P&C: You said you’re a theatrical group. What do you mean by that?
Antonis: We all have differing backgrounds, in theatre, in film, in dance. I personally started in music theatre, I have a lot of dance background, and I try to bring that out in my comedy. I think that’s something about Abra Cadaver and Bunz Live that is really fun, is that we all have diverse talents and we all work hard to bring those talents out.
Dana: It’s all about becoming those objects or those people, so when we all started doing it together it was so wonderful to see other people jump into the form and really do it.
P&C: You’re a very physical team compared to “stand and talk” kind of shows that are more common. As an audience member it’s very cool to watch.
Robbie: All but one person have some kind of theatre background.
Antonis: That’s Jason, and he works at a museum, so that’s equally as fascinating, so I feel like his frame of reference is huge.
Robbie: And we need that difference. Also Jason’s a physical actor.
Antonis: He’s a very, very funny guy.
Molly: He’ll be an actor when we’re finished with him. (laughs)
Catch Abra Cadaver (Kate Fenton, Molly Flood, Robbie Grant, Ross Hammond, Leanne Miller, Dana Puddicombe, Samara Stern, Jason Voulgaris, and Antonis Varkaris) at Bunz Live, SoCap Theatre, Monday, March 13. Admission: $5, or bring an item to trade and enjoy the show for free!
It’s been an intense week for people in the arts. We’ve seen actors, filmmakers, comedians, and musicians called “cucks,” “crybabies,” “snowflakes” and far worse for expressing themselves, or being concerned with “feelings versus facts.”
But no one goes to see a show about facts. No one stands in front of an equation at MoMA, or dances to string theory.
How do you speak your truth and show vulnerability onstage when tensions are so high? We asked a few of our favourite improvisers for their perspective.
Anand Rajaram What we do as artists is unique because it’s the only field in which we are not only welcome to, but required to express our feelings.
Lawyers may or may not empathize with their clients, or police with their suspects, but it cannot get in the way of doing their job or they’re deemed unfit to hold their position. Artists, as a result, do what everyone else suppresses.
Naturally, that causes those who suppress themselves most to respond strongest, either in thanks for petitioning an idea on their behalf, or with vitriol for challenging their beliefs.
There is no potential worse time for democracy. That means there is great potential for intense feelings and self and societal suppression. And that means artists are well positioned, if brave enough, to emerge as strong social pillars in these turbulent times.
But it starts with recognizing one’s feelings, then having perspective, and finally, having the strength to withstand criticism for one’s viewpoint. Improvisers, like actors, need empathy to understand alternate perspectives and represent them honestly. Big ears and openness may lead to a very transformative time to come.
Christine Aziz I haven’t been doing a lot of improv in NYC, but have been feeling particularly vulnerable considering I’m in a country where I have legal status but not really. I’m living in the US, but I’m not an American, so it makes me sometimes think, well, who am I to be having opinions about this? Or my opinion or reactions to the election aren’t as heavily weighted. Of course the leader of the free world makes decisions that affect the whole world, so my reactions are as a citizen of the world, who of course is affected.
I was at a jazz show last week where the headliner talked openly about his feelings, and people appreciated not only his music, but his authenticity. I worry about being too much of a downer as people start to say “Be positive and hope for the best” and “Be the change” etc, but this is totally unprecedented and I don’t think it’s right to suppress people’s perfectly valid fears. I’m so grateful to brave artists who are speaking up, especially the cast of Hamilton, because now is the time for artists to do our work. People are looking to us to inspire them and give them hope, and to propel them towards speaking up and standing up for others in their own lives.
I’m doing a cabaret show on the weekend and it’s comedic, but I want to fully acknowledge what is happening – the feelings of sadness and disappointment – but also the fight. The energy of “We aren’t going to take any bullshit, and we are paying attention.” But still keeping it light and not letting it dominate my act. The show must go on, but the show must also be mindful of what is happening out there in the world and can’t exist in a vacuum.
Susan Messing My thoughts are obviously leaking into my work. I did a show with Scott Adsit last Thursday, and one scene began with him onstage and me in the house and I said, “Mr Gonzales, are they really going to build a wall?”
“Post-truth” means LIE. I find it infuriating how that phrase and “alt-right” are bandied about as if it isn’t hurtful. At the least, comedy is helping us that feel lost and marginalized to commiserate with each other through laughter during a time that is distinctly not funny.
Etan Muskat I think the operative word in “Fuck Your Feelings” is “Your.” One of the scariest things about the American election is how divided people seem to be. There’s real rage on both sides, and a real inability for the politically divided country to find common ground.
This thing about Trump tweeting that theatre should be a “safe and special place” is particularly interesting, because that’s an idea associated with millennials – that they are routinely attacked for – but it’s also at the heart of the current wave of racism, xenophobia and Islamophobia: people saying “I want my world to feel safe and I don’t feel safe around X.”
The SNL sketch with Tom Hanks about Trump voters and black Americans having so much in common was one of my favourite bits of comedy surrounding the election cycle, because it attempted to do something I haven’t seen much of lately: show the common humanity of enemies.
I remember hearing about a study that said reading novels increases empathy, because the reader is compelled to identify with the experiences of the narrator and characters outside their own experience. It’s a more intimate relationship than with a film or TV character. And that empathy translates to real life interpersonal dynamics.
I think improv has the ability to have that same effect, because of the vulnerability of the performers. But that vulnerability cuts both ways, as we’ve seen with Second City performers in Chicago being heckled to the breaking point.
I really believe the best comedy expresses profound truth. But truth is contingent on experience, even to the point that people will deny obvious facts if they don’t fit their worldview. That’s the secret to Trump, but it’s also the secret of all art. To tell a truth that our audience can embrace. So it really just depends on how you see the world.
Paloma Nuñez Share your life, your view, your experience. Everything that comes out of you comes from the filter of your life experience. That is relatable. Someone may see themselves in you and your life, and they might not feel so alone. Art is about feelings, because that’s how we process facts.
(Sidebar: This election wasn’t won with facts, it was won with feelings. People felt unheard and underrepresented, Trump capitalized on that. I mean did he even say any facts? Don’t fact check me on that…)
Fear is the enemy of creation, so you can’t worry about what others think; instead just make them feel. It’s the unifying factor. We all love people, we all want our loved ones to be safe, healthy, and happy. Show people who they are, without the filter of ridicule or judgement, and they might just see themselves in the mirror you place in front of them.
Julie Osborne Against this sort of socio-political backdrop, it’s easy to become mired in cynicism or hopelessness. Unscripted theatre affords us the opportunity to combat that with humanity in a very immediate and responsive way – inviting both the audience and performers to reflect, provoke, transpose and challenge our feelings in a setting that is very deliberately not constricted by fact, but that fails and feels hollow when there isn’t some sort of emotional truth present.
We go to the theatre to see exactly that: people being affected – experiencing things that resonate personally. We go to the theatre to feel something. In the company of others. Doesn’t matter if we’re talking comedy or tragedy (or a bit of both). It’s kind of the whole mandate, then, to speak personal truth and show vulnerability.
Turtleporridge Vacuum the Fifth
Maskie, Capey and Captain Spandex
Greg, I mean Chris, I mean, Chris-Greg
Jenkins “Get in here!” Johnson
The last thing you bought at Ikea
When you think about the “Who” in improv, you might say “We’re father and son.” But there are a billion different father-and-son relationships. When we talk about defining the “Who,” it’s not “Keep re-establishing that you’re firemen.” It’s what’s going on between you. The “Who” isn’t just who you are; it’s who you are to each other.
Improvisers aren’t just creative on stage. They’re also artists, musicians, photographers, filmmakers, dancers, writers, podcast hosts and more.
Some of these things turn into new careers, but for most, they’re a chance to shift gears, experiment, and try something completely different.
Like Austin Kleon says, “Side projects and hobbies are important.” So we thought we’d showcase some of our favourite improvisers’ talents, starting with Second City alum Kirsten Rasmussen’s hilarious doodles.