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A guest writer this week. My sister, Caroline Flint, reflects on seeing The Play’s The Thing at the Questors Theatre on Friday 12th September 2025.

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My brother is an improviser. He specialises in an art form that sees him creating theatre from thin air. The curtain goes up with not a single line learnt, a scene rehearsed or a dance choreographed. The actors invite a suggestion from the audience – a place, a theme, an idea – and from that bursts forth a production that is plucked from nothing and made into something. It is really quite breathtaking to watch.

Improv can come in many forms. Quick scenes or games, comedy, musical or sometimes whole plays. Last night I was honoured to go and watch my big brother perform a two act piece in the style of a Shakespeare play. The idea would fill me with dread but as I sat there, a whole world unfolded before me. An array of strong characters intertwined themselves with beautiful soliloquies, powerful monologues and comedic interactions. We had fierce battles, tragic deaths, poetic wishing trees, a very cute dog in a ruff, brutal fight scenes, poignant declarations of love and family ties that refused to break. We laughed, we cried, and we marvelled at the talent laid bare before us.

And in the hours that followed I have been struck with the thought that maybe we need to stop and learn from this art form. We live in a world where we are becoming increasingly distrustful of those around us. In a time when we have more access than ever to information and news we are feeling increasingly overwhelmed by the things that are happening in our world and to the future of our planet. Yet here is an example of the magic that can come when we let down those barriers and trust in the other. I’ll admit here that I’m a control freak. I like to have things planned and sorted and know where I’m going. So watching the show I was amazed by how many times I thought I knew where the play was going, and thought the actor onstage knew too, then suddenly someone else would join the scene and a whole new path would open up. A new idea was born in the moment. And the improvisors, true to their community’s mantra of “yes &” would take that idea (yes!) and then build on it (and!). Placing their trust so completely in their fellow players. Trusting them enough that these new ideas would work. And taking ideas from earlier in the play and reweaving them in again and again to make solid foundations and humorous interactions that left the audience speechless. It seems to me that it’s about having relationships so strong that you can take the risk to let go and see what unfolds because new paths open up new ideas and new wonders. And even if they don’t quite go as planned, you’re standing beside people who will love and protect you regardless and joy will still be found.

It takes a lot. I’m sure these relationships don’t just happen overnight and like anything worth doing, it takes years to build your craft to reach the levels that Chris, Ali and John demonstrated on Friday night. It was a joy to watch them and a privilege to watch something so magical that you know will never be performed like that ever again. It was there for that moment, and now it has gone. But what remains is this feeling inside me that maybe this world needs to slowly but surely take a leaf out of the improviser’s handbook. Start to trust a little more. Stop being afraid of something different. We are not always going to know where the path will lead us but there is beauty and magic to be found in the unknown. Embrace it with love, trust and humour.

And a cute dog in a ruff can help too!

<aside> 💡 Hey, my name’s Chris Mead. I write an article about improv almost every week. You can get the latest in your inbox by subscribing to my newsletter. Or check out the archive.

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