Drunk Improv

We (and by "we" I mean Held2gether) did drunk improv this weekend. I know some of you who see us perform regularly may think we do drunk improv all the time but that's not actually the case. Sometimes we really are just that strange.

Anyway, we had a troupe + significant others barbecue and Andy Co-Dependent was determined to do drunk improv, going so far as to have an agenda and bringing an MP-3 of hilarious sound effects so we could try a game called, um, Sound Effects. Not that Andy Co-Dependent was the only one who wanted to do drunk improv. He was just the only one who was organized about it.

By the way, if you're waiting for some moral of the story, or how drunk improv relates to real life, I apologize in advance. I got nothin'.

In addition to Sound Effects and a bunch of other stuff, we did Bad Improv. I'm not being self-deprecating here; it's an actual game where you do a scene and break all the rules. It's hilarious in its badness if you understand the rules that are being broken. It looks like a bunch of idiots doing random things in reasonable proximity to each other to everyone who's not an improv person. Which would be all the Sig O's at the party. And of course, in this case, it was drunk bad improv, so it was even stupider. So all the improvisors were laughing our asses off at people talking on imaginary telephones, having interactions with non-existent people, calling everything "this" and "that" without labeling them, appearing from outer space, changing their relationships mid-scene, leaving the scene, denying every bit of information and on and on. Meanwhile, the Sig O's were sitting there, staring at us and muttering because bad improv just isn't funny if you aren't in on the joke.

So I guess I do have a moral to this story: if you are going to do drunk improv, only invite the improvisors. If you're going to include the significant others, just do what regular people do at parties and be loud, talk about annoying people and get semi-naked in the kitchen.

And to all the H2G Sig O's: thanks for putting up with us and being such good sports. Now stop complaining. There was plenty of booze.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Will You Be My Friend?

Wanna be a better friend? I can help. No, really. I have that kind of power.

Turns out, the characteristics that make a great friend are the same as those that make a great improvisor. I know you keep thinking I'll run out of examples of how life and improv are the same. But no. I'm not the Queen of Information for nothing, peeps. Anyway, even though there's no Intro to Being a Better Friend class, there are plenty of Held2gether Intro to Improv Comedy classes that can teach you all the skills you need to be someone's BFF.

Even if you only want to be someone's good friend or okay friend and not necessarily their best friend, improv can help. See, in improv we want our partners to make eye contact (during those brief moments when they're not mesmerized by our awesome biceps), listen, agree, add information and of course, be committed. And I dunno about you, but those are the same traits I want in a friend. Naturally, good friends won't agree with you if you're being an idiot - say you insist that all people who believe in unicorns are insane. Well, that's clearly not true, and a good friend will not agree with your premise. They will, however, agree with your right to be an idiot.

You may think that once you've learned these improv techniques, they will only apply while you're doing improv. But the awesome thing about improv is that the skills you learn seep over into other areas of your life. That's because you're actually learning new ways of thinking and responding, and your brain doesn't assume those new ways of thinking were only intended for improv scenes. So you'll find yourself having a conversation with someone and actually listening to them, instead of making a list in your head of everything you need to buy at Trader Joe's. You'll realize that you are finding ways to agree with them and support their ideas, instead of defaulting to the tried-and-true, "Well, that's a stupid idea. Nobody wants home fur coloring for their cats." You'll discover that you add information, contributing to the friendship by putting a little more of yourself into it, when you respond to the fur coloring idea with, "You know, maybe you could include a snippet of catnip in the box of fur coloring to attract more buyers." All in all, you'll see that you are more committed in your conversations, your work and, of course, your friendships.

All because you took an improv class. Which, in case I haven't mentioned it, is a totally fun, safe and encouraging way to learn stuff anyway. I mean, there aren't any textbooks or tests or angry nuns with rulers to worry about.

Well, maybe the last one.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv in the Swamp

Have you ever noticed that sometimes in life things don't go perfectly the first time (or first couple million times) you try them? Or is that just me?

Well, anyway, on the off chance that this problem affects one or two other people besides me, I'm gonna go with it.

Most of us weren't born knowing how to do stuff, and sometimes acquiring the skills and knowledge we need or want to have requires a certain level - okay, a huge, ginormous level - of frustration. We try and study and work at something, and we get incrementally better. Or sometimes we make a big ol' leap in a short period of time. Yay us!

Only then we hit a plateau. And we swim along in the muddy waters of this purgatory, fighting the current that threatens to take us backwards, and wondering if we're ever going to get any better than this. Or if we're just gonna drown right here in this swamp of mediocrity.

It's been a tough week. Sorry.

But you know what? The only way to keep from drowning in that swamp is to keep paddling. The learning curve isn't so much a curve as it is a zig-zag. You make a big improvement - usually beginners make a huge improvement at first because they're going from a baseline of essentially no knowledge, so any learning is a big leap. Then you hit a plateau, where I suppose your brain is figuring out what to do with all that new stuff, so there isn't really room to take in more new stuff. Sometimes, there's even a downturn, where your abilities regress a bit. That one sucks. Trust me.

But if you don't give up, there will be another turn and the zig-zag will zoom up again, and you'll forget all about that murky friggin' swamp. Until you hit the next plateau. But hopefully you'll start to see the pattern and you won't lose confidence every time you find yourself in the swamp.

Naturally, when you take Held2gether improv classes there'll be a bit of a learning, uh, zig-zag. But the great thing about improv is, it's fun even when it isn't. How's that for profound? It's true. The games and exercises and people make improv one of the funnest (Darren's word, not mine) things you can do, and even when you're stuck in what seems to be a never-ending plateau, you don't stay focused on your own frustration very long when you're laughing your ass off.

Besides, swimming in the swamp is an excellent way to build your biceps. Now you know my secret.

By Sonnjea Blackwell

If I Can Do It, It's Not a Skill

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Mutual Improv Admiration Society

You know how it is in life, when you tend to discount things that come easily to you or that you do well? And you admire people who can do something that you find next to impossible? Like, I can put together anything Ikea makes in under 10 minutes, which seems like a dumb skill to me. But I'm totally jealous of people who can plan a vacation and not get overwhelmed by the planes and the hotels and all the damn choices.

It's the same with improv. Not the prefab furniture or travel arrangements, I mean. Duh. But the tendency to discount that which you do well while over-regarding the skills of others. I'll explain. You're welcome.

Last week I had my semi-regular crisis of confidence regarding my ability to have different characters and, as Andy Co-Dependent would say, "bring the funny." And yet, after one of my classes, a long-time improvisor who I've never been in class with before and whose strength is characters gave me the best compliment you can get in improv: He said he can't wait to work with me. I'd been thinking I really wanted to work with him because he's a pro and hilarious and all that, but I couldn't see any reason the feeling would be mutual.

Turns out, while I've been busy admiring his ability to take on characters, he's been admiring my ability to add great information. Since adding information and justifying pretty much anything are not skills I had to learn, I consider them less important than skills I have to work at. But of course, Information is one of the Big 3 of improv rules. Agreement is another. And Commitment (to the scene and to the character you're playing) is the third. So the skill I admire is no more important than the skill I possess.

I think the message here is that there's no point in being jealous of other people's abilities. If they can do something that you want to be able to do, work hard at learning it. But don't discount the things you already do well, because they're important too, and other people think those are the skills worth having. Naturally, Held2gether improv classes in Long Beach can help you learn all of those skills.

Well, the Big 3, anyway. We don't actually spend much time on furniture assembly or booking travel. Sorry.

Improv Classes in Long Beach

By Sonnjea Blackwell

Improv for anyone who's breathing

I have a friend who recently informed me that she thinks she'd like to be a performer and/or writer on SNL when she grows up. She's 16 (it's not weird; shut up), so she has plenty of time to start down that path and I really hope she makes it if that's what she wants to do.

But I couldn't help being a little sad and jealous about it because I didn't even know what improv WAS until I was [insert whatever age you think I was about 15 years ago]. That's when I first saw Whose Line Is It Anyway? Of course I've watched SNL on and off over the years since the heyday of the Belushi/Ackroyd/Radner crew, but I never really grasped that what they did (sketch OR improv, I mean) was a learnable skill.

Look, I grew up in a small town that emphasized farming, drinking American beer and shooting stuff. The arts were something other people from hoity toity places like New York and Los Angeles did. I was pushing the envelope by choosing to become a writer.

Anyway. That's the awesome thing about Held2gether: it's designed for people like me who discovered improv late[r] in life and don't have the acting/performing/comedy background necessary for improv classes at the schools in those hoity toity places. That's why we call it "improv for life..." Because it's for everyone who is currently alive.

And because our entire mission is to bring the skills and fun and joy of improv to as many currently alive people as possible, our classes are safe and encouraging and supportive. Most of us have never acted or performed, either. We know it's scary to be up on a stage with people you've barely met doing crazy scenes involving porcupines and cousins and Panda Express. But the life (there's that word again) skills and enjoyment you get from just showing up and trying are worth every bit of angst you feel on the drive to your first class.

Just be careful on the drive to your second class. You'll be so excited to get there, you might get a speeding ticket. And we can't accept responsibility for that. Sorry.