Work of Genius

Just wanted to direct your attention to http://alphainventions.com, which shows you new blog posts as and when they are updated. No submission is required, it just shows new posts in real time. Pretty clever.

Proper Acting

It’s been a while since my last post, but I do have a good reason. I’ve been rehearsing for a play-I’m playing Michael in Václav Havel’s Unveiling, so I’ve been spending lots of time rehearsing and learning lines, along with all the other stuff I normally do.

I’m always surprised when I get to do ‘proper’ acting. Performing comedy and stand-up is acting of a sort, but it’s nowhere near as intense and sometimes works better when a performance isn’t polished. Don’t get me wrong, I love acting a great deal, it’s just that I’ve no formal training and never expect to be chosen for more serious parts. But sometimes I am anyway.

Saying that, I’m usually given parts that have a comic element to them anyway.  Even last year, when developing the character of Leo for Pebbles on the Beach with Joanna Pinto and Weaver Hughes Ensemble, what started off as a very miserable and joyless character somehow became amusing even while constantly bemoaning his lot in life. At least, the director laughed a lot. I guess I just have one of those faces.

That’s alright though, I’m in it for shits and giggles, not to be hailed as the next Olivier. Like all the best things in life, it gives you an incredible buzz but doesn’t pay particularly well unless you have the right mix of talent and luck (I think the mix is different for each person). It’s bloody hard work and bloody good fun.

The Gertchin

The Gertchin is a wild hairy man who lives in the trees and wears nothing but a nappy. He spends his days stealing away women’s sweethearts and dragging them back to his lair. You don’t want to know what he spends his nights doing.

This is what the Gertchin looks like:

Do not approach this mythical beast

Ladies, if you see this creature when out with your beau, do not put up any resistance. The Gertchin can run faster than you, but does not appreciate the inconvenience, and he will tear you limb from limb as punishment. The safest option is to let him take your man and go out and find another true love. And be more careful with this one.

There are rumours that documentary footage of the Gertchin exists. If I can get my hands on film of this ferocious creature in action I will let you know.

As Shaw Taylor used to say, keep your eyes peeled.

UPDATE: 2oth January 2009

Footage of the Gertchin in action is now available here!

Improv, Part 1

Improvised comedy is one of my very favourite things to do. I get an incredible buzz from standing up in front of an audience with no idea what I or those I’m on stage with are about to say or do. When it works and the audience laugh, it feels like real magic. When it goes wrong, you can just forget it and move on to the next scene or game. There’s no lines to learn and people who don’t do it think you’re awfully brave and clever. What’s not to like?

There is one downside. In the UK, a lot of people aren’t really sure what improv comedy is (unlike in the States, where it has a much wider and more appreciative audience, particularly in cities like Chicago, which is pretty much the birthplace of improv comedy). You try to explain it to British people without using the 5 dreaded words and you just get blank stares, till you give in and say, ‘It’s a bit like Who’s Line Is It Anyway?‘, at which point they go, ‘Ooohhh, riiight…’

Yes, it is a bit like that, but there’s so much more. Whose Line is an example of what’s known as short-form improv – short games with different sets of rules, which use suggestions from the audience to give the improvisers a starting situation or characters to play, and normally have no thematic connection with any of the other games in the show. And even then it’s been doctored for a television audience. Don’t get me wrong, I love the show, but it really is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to showing you what comedic feats can be achieved through making stuff up as you go along.

Watching short-form improv live tends to be a much more exciting experience. For a start, you can make suggestions along with the rest of the audience, which makes you a part of the show. There’s no way it can be edited to make it look funnier – anything can happen, which makes it seem a lot riskier. When a performer makes a mistake it can be just as funny as if they come out with the perfect one-liner. There’s a real sense that you’re in on the joke with the people on stage, and the performers feel that vibe with the audience too.

Then there’s long-form improv. This works more like a play, with a suggestion from an audience member (sometimes just one word) triggering a series of scenes which are connected – through characters, plot, theme, whatever. Long-form can take you (whether you’re performing or watching) on some really strange journeys, but (usually) it somehow manages to tie everything up by the end. Most of the time, even the actors don’t know how this happens.

There’s lots of other kinds, and improv troupes all over the place are constantly experimenting with new ways of doing things. I’ve been lucky enough to perform in shows that have mixed short- and long-form techniques, as well as improvised musicals and 12-hour improvathons.

So, yeah, I love it. In fact I meant to talk more about my personal involvement in it but I went off on an improv comedy tangent instead (which is why I’ve called this ‘part 1′). If I have piqued your interest, and you happen to live in the Brighton area, come and see the improv troupe I’m in, Off the Cuff, performing this Wednesday evening at the Brunswick pub in Hove. I reckon you’ll love it too.