So what I'm saying is there is no such thing as "by all accounts" in improv.
What constitutes a great show, anyway? Is it a show in which the performers are funny and don't break any improv rules? (Good luck with that, by the way). Is it a show in which the performers are funny in spite of breaking the rules? Is it a show that the audience is into, regardless of the funniness and/or rule-breaking-ness of the performers?
These are not rhetorical questions, by the way. I really want to know.
A teacher once told me that you can't trust the audience because sometimes you can give 'em total crap and they love it, while other times you could do the best improv ever done and they'll be bored and Face Booking on their iPhones the whole time. That's because audiences, like other groups, have a mass mentality which occasionally has nothing to do with what's going on around them - like f*ing brilliant improv, for example.
So, what's an improvisor to do? First of all, have the intention to give the audience the best show you can. Then do improv the way you've been taught - and the way you know you can - to the best of your ability. When a scene works, enjoy it, but don't dwell on it because you have to be in the moment for your next scene. When a scene tanks, enjoy it, but don't dwell on it because you have to be in the moment for your next scene.
Yes, I said enjoy it when your scene tanks. Don't try to tank it, obviously. But when one does tank, just enjoy the badness of it. Enjoy the fact that, even though this scene sucks, you get to do improv. In front of an audience. Which may just be the awesomest thing ever. And as nearly as I can tell, what makes a good show is one in which the performers do their best not to break the rules, where they commit even (or perhaps especially) in scenes no one can save, and when they are so obviously having the time of their lives that the audience can't help but be drawn into the joy.
At least I think so.
By Sonnjea Blackwell
