Friends, competitive improv is my kryptonite.
I can’t do it. As soon as I’m on stage being judged by an audience of my peers then my improv muse — already a flighty thing — becomes mealy-mouthed and insipid.
I calcify and turn in on myself when placed under the spotlight of judgement - like one of those sped up videos of a woodland animal decomposing.
And it’s no good telling me that it’s not a real competition. The performers might know that, but does our audience? You know, the ones that actually do the voting?
The whole thing brings up the ghost of too many PE lessons where I was picked last. I want to run and hide in the library.
So, yeah. Competitive improv — not my scene.
Having said all that, I was just in a very high-profile improv tournament in Munich and it was an absolute dream.
Here’s how I turned my frown upside down (with a little help from my improv friends).
This was the game-changer for me. We actively sought out rehearsal time with other teams before our matches. We spent afternoons playing together. We came to know each other as players and as human beings. By the time the actual matches rolled around, we didn’t see each other as competitors - we truly felt like one team. A team whose primary goal was to make the audience laugh. Which is the actual reality of the situation if you think about it. It was such a strong bond that wherever the points were actually awarded, it felt like a shared victory. That meant we naturally celebrated with the other team even before we turned to the colleagues on our own bench.
Such a basic improv rule, but revelatory for me in this situation. We tried to make the other team look amazing at all times. You can do this in so many ways: