Its not that I’m lazy to write a blog now and again. its the sometime I read a Blog or a Facebook note which kinda sums up what I think. like the blog I posted from Ian Parizot a few weeks ago about SFIT. I remember reading a Facebook note from R Kevin Garcia Doyle which really has sum up my thoughts about dogma in improvisation and his experience at the Seattle Festival of improv. I would like to share that with you.
Garrick - OTS
SFIT / Improv / Dogma by R Kevin Garcia Doyle
One of the great things about attending improv festivals is that you’re forced to wrestle with your preconceptions concerning improv as theatre or comedy or whatever you might preconceive it to be.
The sheer variety of styles on display in the shows does this, as does the conversation with improvisers from across the country. Its very difficult to say “improv is this, but not that” when you’ve just seen a remarkable example of successfully improvised “that” on stage,
A book I was reading about U.S. Air Force pilots flying over Laos in 1970 (“Flying Through Midnight”) also helped direct my thoughts towards the dangers of dogma.
In this book, a veteran pilot (veterans being measured in months of service rather than years) discusses how the first pilots who flew the missions over Laos quickly learned that the air force rules were not only useless, but likely to get them killed. Thus, they came to the conclusion that they’d have to come up with their own ideas about how to successfully fly missions. During this time period, they felt totally alive as pilots - many viewed it as the most exciting time of their lives.
They wrote their ideas down on 8 1/2 x 14 yellow paper and shared them with each other - not as rules, but as ideas about what worked for them in specific situations. In improv, we’d call those tools.
However, when they rotated out of duty, an office jockey came across the hand written notes and thought “this won’t do!” He edited out 90% of what was on those pieces of ledger paper, added some of the old air force rules back in and published it as official rules of engagement for flying over Laos.
Now, these new rules (which were accepted as dogma by many pilots) were just as useless and just as likely to get you killed as the original rules.
What the best pilots had to learn to survive while flying over Laos was how to know their plane and their crew so well that they could make split second decisions that (as often as not) defied air force dogma. They would be busted later by desk jockeys for not following the rules, but the missions would be successful.
While at SFIT, I don’t know that I saw more than one or two shows that fit into conventional models of “the correct way for improv to be performed.” For example:
- Paris Tales by Parisian Gentlemen of Paris - This French trio did short loose scenes based on direct interaction with individual audience members. They focused largely on garnering ask-fors that were based on American’s perceptions of Paris and France. Their scenes then undercut these perceptions. The show had a couple of stealth short-form games. They embraced fully developed characters and a delightful sense of the absurd. They were the only show that I saw at the Festival that leaned more towards short form, but they didn’t play it in a way that telegraphed that to the audience. As far as anyone watching the show was concerned, It was solid, funny improvisation (with a really amazing opening sequence that dove straight into the heart of half a dozen French stereotypes). You can do a short form show in a very different way from “Whose Line” and make it work. Hurray for blowing up formulas!
- Confidence Men from Austin performed improvised Mamet. That said, you wouldn’t have needed to be familiar with Mamet to enjoy the show. They made a remarkable, 100% commitment to being true to Mamet’s language quirks - the short, unfinished thoughts and sentences, the staccato rhythms and the profane word choices. As with the best genre shows, they were not parodying Mamet, but using his style as a springboard for great improvisation. Also, though they had 20-25 minutes like the rest of us, they made this into a two act play (with a wonderful violinist between the halves). We’ve done two acts before, but doing two acts in 25 minutes was a new and interesting thing to me. You don’t have to be prisoner to your time limits - you can do the things you need to do to make your show work no matter how long (or short) you have.
- The Amie and Kristin/Kristin and Amie show from Philiedelphia - What stood out to me about this duo was that their level of emotional commitment to their work. When one got upset, she didn’t get ‘fakey improv upset.’ She was UPSET. I mean, if I’d seen her acting like that in real life, I would have thought she was genuinely having a fit. I mean that as high praise. We have a tendency in improv, sometimes, to hold back from genuine emotions and these two very talented performers drove home to me how the same kind of emotional commitment that makes for excellent scripted acting can raise your game as an improviser.
- Funbucket from Seattle. Jordan Savusa sat next to me during this show and said “what the heck am I watching?” with absolute delight about ten times. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anything like Funbucket. It was like watching a religious cult do improv. The premise is that audience members bring “offerings” to place in the Funbucket and then the large cast is inspired by the various objects. Note that I didn’t use the word “scenes” because (while there were some scenes) the group might be just as moved to do something insane and non-scene like by the object. For example, when they pulled out a role of tape, they took the opportunity to use the tape to try and corral the entire audience. Another prop prompted them to all die various deaths. A third turned into a scene about a man in a truss being carried over the heads of the rest of the cast in an attempt to enjoy some “man time.” While the cast approached the show with a sort of militant dedication, it was as close to anarchy as I’ve ever seen on stage. Funbucket not only gleefully tossed away all of the rules of improv, they destroyed their own internal rules as the show went on. I said afterwards that its the only improv show that I ever want to see from now on, but what I meant was that I want to approach my own work with that attitude. Destroy everything, even the ruins, as Pere Ubu would say.
There were a number of other fantastic shows that I saw both familiar (Pimprov, Twinprov, Super-Mega Art Show, Dirty Laundry) and unfamiliar (The SheSpot’s Spanish soap-opera, Al and Jim’s One-Man Show, Where No Man’s improvised Star Trek TOS, Royal Friends Society and the beyond delightful improv duo Carskee) - not to mention a dozen or so shows that I missed - and I could have picked any one of them as an example of own forging your own path results in a stronger improvised show.
Anyhow, one of the things I love about the Seattle improv scene is that they really embrace everything. They remind me of those pilots in “Flying Through Midnight” who are doing whatever it takes to get their job done (in the case of Seattle improv, creating great theatre) without any regard to anyone’s dogma. As a result, its one of the most exciting improv scenes in the country. History suggests that somebody is going to create a book titled ‘The Seattle Way’ that will, in turn, become a kind of dogma in and of itself (note how Napier’s “Improvisation” which espouses the “don’t follow rules” approach has sometimes been treated as a kind of dogma by people who missed the point of the book entirely). I’m going to hope that history doesn’t lock the Seattle scene into that particular trap ever because, man, are the shows good now.
Thank you, SFIT, for a reinvigorating, thought provoking and extremely entertaining Festival. Thank you also for your warm reception of “Hush.” Its great to be reminded sometimes that the work you’re doing is worthwhile. Its easy to forget that.




