An angry employee in a hotdog costume screamed at passersby, including a blind man, to convince them to buy some hotdogs. After 15 years on the job his belligerence is blamed for the failure of the business.
All this makes sense in the world of improvisational comedy, where the audience willfully suspends disbelief to experience the imaginations and quick-wit of the players.
The American Stage Theatre Company in downtown St. Petersburg is taking a stab at improv on Sunday nights as part of its “After Hours” series. The theater wants to be the place for improv in St. Petersburg, said stage director and production coordinator T. Scott Wooten.
Wooten had to bring in additional chairs to the second-floor bar and lounge that the theater is calling its “lobby cabaret” to provide more seats for the standing-room-only audience at the Nov. 20 performance of “Shel.”
“Shel” is a show by the Tampa-based troupe Dear Aunt Gertrude that uses the poetry of Shel Silverstein as a jumping-off point for the improvised free-association wackiness.
Show creator Amy Huebschman said she got the idea when her sister moved and needed to get rid of boxes of books. Among them were the two most famous collections by Silverstein, “Where the Sidewalk Ends” and “A Light in the Attic,” which Huebschman then introduced to her child and got the idea for the show.
From that came varied and whimsical skits: two people sitting on a bench keep having their serious conversation interrupted by rude people scooching by; George W. Bush explains cyclical cycles (a bit led off by Silverstein’s poem “Poemsicle”); and a man unhappy with his new unicycle that has a face rather than a seat, among them.
Huebschman flips through the pages of the book chosen by audience members until told to stop. She then reads the poem and the group sets out interpreting it into a premise.
The No. 1 rule of improv comedy is to never say “no.” That is, a player can never reject the premise and has to make it work. This leads to moments of anarchy when an off-stage player shouts out something like “10 years later…” and suddenly the scene shifts and the actors on stage have to go with the flow.
Improv is not only requires collaboration and trust from the players, but from the audience, as well. When a bit is going poorly, the players are willing to suddenly pull the plug on it; the narrative and the audience’s expectations have to shift with it.
“Hanging a lantern” on the process like this isn’t a full stop, but one of the more endearing elements of the form. Improv is impermanent. Two shows with the same gimmick, like the reading of children’s poetry, will be vastly different experiences.
Improv comedy is the ultimate “you had to be there” performance art. The actors are not afraid to make fun of their most memorable lines, good or bad, so that by the end of the show the disconnected bits build a foundation of in-jokes that form into one coherent show.
Dear Aunt Gertrude usually performs at The Box Theater in Tampa, where they host improvisational comedy lessons throughout the week.
Information about future improv comedy acts at the American Stage Theatre can be found on its website at AmericanStage.org. Tickets are $15 in advance or with a recommended $5 to $15 donation at the door.
Photo by Christopher Guinn
