The Guest Room: Jill Bernard
This week’s guest is Jill Bernard, straight outta Minneapolis with her one-woman improv show, Drum Machine. She also plays with ComedySportz Twin Cities, directs their workshop program, is an Artistic Associate of the Chicago Improv Festival, studied at the Annoyance Theater, Improv Olympic, the Brave New Workshop (among others) and has appeared in a monster truckload of festivals (despite not being a monster truck). She has a blog.
The Fireball Theory
Improv is a difficult thing to try to communicate. I tend to use a lot of metaphors to see if I can juxtapose just the right image into someone’s head to get the idea across. I have a new improv metaphor still cooking in my head, so I thought I’d share it in its baby stages.
The other night when I was teaching, every warm-up we did involved a brief delay. We would play Sound Ball, and instead of sound-sound-sound, it would go sound-pause-sound-pause-sound. Word Ball was much the same. Zip Zap Zop, ditto. It was Zip-pause-Zap-pause-Zop. Each time I had to tell them, “Let’s take that pause out.”
–> That pause is the sound of you doubting yourself.
–> That pause is the sound of Mr. Bartlett telling you you’ll never be a great bassoon player or your brother telling you you’re stupid or your mother sighing in resignation – whoever it was that made you believe you’re not good enough back when your brain was too soft to know they’re wrong.
–> That pause is the sound of real improvisation being replaced by something much more sensible and much less fun.
Which made me think…
You know in action movies or TV shows when something blows up and there’s a great big fireball? And the hero of the story starts running and is able to OUTRUN THE EXPLOSION, DEFYING ALL RULES OF PHYSICS?
In my mind I am thinking of the scene from Independence Day when Vivica A. Fox and her kid and Boomer the Golden Retriever are running. Boomer leaps at the last minute, safe into Vivica A. Fox’s arms! Here’s the best screen capture I could get, I’d love it if someone can find me a better one:
Here’s the improv metaphor:
You need to improvise faster and harder than you can judge yourself, and outrun the explosion of self-loathing and doubt.
A friend said, “My self-loathing is a contender for the Olympic team.” To which I said, “But you know it’s bullshit, so get your running shoes on.” It will always be right behind you, licking at your heels and shortening your neck hair, but I believe you can stay ahead of it. In the end you will find yourself in the arms of an improv scene as beautiful as Vivica A. Fox.
Previous Guests: Charna Halpern
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By Mirz, July 10, 2008 @ 6:31 pm
It’s funny how people often question the need to “prepare for improv”. Within the improv community, we spend much time and effort practicing, thinking, playing, watching, reading, and talking about improv. Yet we want a natural reaction (first)! We go through all the learning just to elicit our most pure responses. It’s a little counter-intuitive, but your metaphor rings true. We are our own worst enemy.
By b.j.swank, July 13, 2008 @ 8:56 pm
It’s harder to slow down and be comfortable improvising in thoughtful, drawn-out moments than to engage in quick-witted, fast-paced exchanges. When you’re improvising hard and fast, you can try and stay ahead of the self-doubt, but if you slow things down, the explosion will catch up with you. To further extend your analogy into geek territory, that’s when you either
a) walk out of the explosion unscathed à la Terminator II:
or b) stop the bullets like Neo: (assuming there are bullets in the explosion)
By Ian, July 25, 2008 @ 8:16 pm
Jill, I think this is the picture you might have been looking for:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/discoweasel/444445582/
By jill bernard, July 29, 2008 @ 4:45 am
Yup, B.J. you have to get in fast enough to slow down. Get the shit out of the way so we can take all the time we want and luxuriate in it. If you watch a show with a lot of patience in it, like Bassprov or TJ & Dave, they’re locked in from the very first second. There is no hesitation where they roll into the scene and decide if they like it, they’re already there. The fireball didn’t stand a chance.
By hbc, July 29, 2008 @ 3:52 pm
I agree with Jill. There’s a difference between being patient and hesitating. There’s a difference between being fast and merely being frantic. It’s not about the pace, it’s about being present. I want slow sustained scenes and characters to snap into it immediately and always be slightly off balance. Kaboom!