Improv Cliches

Robots

THE SHORTEST NIT-PICKIEST ENTRY OF ALL TIME:

A majority of the robots I have ever seen played (and have played myself) in a scene end up moving like they are built from pre-Hall of Presidents animatronic technology and talk like a 1987 Macintosh. Why? Even Siri doesn’t talk like that and it’s a fucking phone let alone a sentient mechanical being. If the scene is in 1965 then ok, I guess that’s fine, but if we are in the future, as most scenes involving robots are, then be a future robot like Data from Star Trek. Yeah, it might not be easy to convey the fact you’re a robot to your scene partner initiating that way, and tropes are of course a huge part of the improv tool box, but by always roboting like something made from an erector set you are limiting the potential of your scenes. Stop that. Go. Be Awesome.

Driving

My friend’s mom would always move the wheel back and forth slightly as she drove, it was slight enough that it didn’t cause the 4Runner she was driving to wobble to and fro as she went down the street but that’s really just because she had bad power steering. She’s the only one I have ever seen do that and it was really annoying to watch. Why is this maneuver so prevalent in improv scenes? I’d venture to guess it’s a go-to that indicates that we are (1) in a car and (2) it’s moving. Unfortunately since this almost never happens in real life you’ve already started the scene ironically detached from it. Jesse Esparza pointed out to me that no one drives stick shifts in scenes, this especially resonated with me because the car I own and have been driving for the past 5 years is a stick shift, so why had I never in my entire improv life driven in my own car?! It blew my mind.

In an effort to focus on the words being said we often end up in these really generic environments, but real environments are anything but. When we don’t set ourselves in a real place we lose a ton of potential for a scene. All of the sudden this feels like my first post rehashed, but you get it, when you drive an improv car, just make it your car and you’ll be surprised how much more mileage you get out of your scene…you see what I did there with the “mileage” thing?… Ok bye.

Kids names

Billy, Tommy, Bobby…do you know any kids with these names? Maybe you do, I don’t, but when I’m in a scene with a “kid” the first thing that comes to mind is one of those three. Why? I’d say because it’s a generic, safe and easy way to communicate to everyone watching the scene that this is a child. The problem with using a generic name is that it tends to generate a generic character. If you’re the kid in the scene and you give yourself a name of a kid you really know then it gives you a wealth of information to play with because you can just be that kid. Do you know a kid named Patrick? Be Patrick in the scene. Do you know a kid named David? I do, he’s a little nerdy kid that kind of smells and is really into coloring books…a little too much, he’s got glasses and a down jacket with a hole in it and corduroy pants that make too much noise when he walks. He also likes reading his Dad’s Advanced Dungeons and Dragons Dungeon Master guide even though he doesn’t really get it.

We’re always taught to play with specifics, to be specific, but this goes beyond making references about Call of Duty or not wanting to eat vegetables, you need to get to the specifics that eventually breed character philosophy or you just end up with a two dimensional stereotype of a kid instead of something real and relatable.

Eating Steak

Writers note: When I say you I mean me, but I also mean us.

Almost every time you sit down with your scene partner and it’s established you’re in a restaurant of some sort, without fail you dig in to your imaginary meal with a fork and knife in hand. How often do you do that in real life? I’ve been consciously observing myself eat over the past few months and I have only used my fork and knife at the same time twice, once when I was eating a steak and once when I was eating spare ribs (until I realized that was stupid and I could access more meat with my hands).

This is nit picky, but eating with a fork and knife in every restaurant scenario is a form of ironic detachment and you are not properly filling out your scene in your own imagination. Are you actually seeing the food you’re eating? The sides, the breadsticks on the table? Is there a table cloth? A candle? Are you sitting in a booth? How does it smell? How’s the light? How’s it decorated?

The point is that even if you are going to set your shit somewhere cliche like Applebee’s, Olive Garden or Chili’s, then eat something off of their menu so you can really find yourself there. If you’re eating steak that’s fine, but remember you are eating steak and you have to pause and chew or you will die.