ComedyU

Author: Duncan McKenzie

  • Freeze Game

    The Freeze Game is a popular game in improv shows, often used as a high-energy end to a set.

    A group of players – usually between 4 and 10 – lines up at the back of the stage. Two people, A and B, come forward, ask the audience for a suggestion for an activity, then perform an activity, emphasizing interesting movements. The players in the background are outside the scene. They watch the activity but keep still.

    A delivers a line. B responds – ideally with something funny. As soon as they strike an interesting new position, one of the players lined up in the background will shout freeze. A player from the back will then tag out one of the players onstage, and replace them on stage, in the same frozen position. A new scene then starts, where the player justifies the position in a new way.

    Here’s how it might go in practice.

    A and B ask for activity. “Knitting!” shouts an audience member. They start knitting, pretending to be old ladies.

    A: Do you think Jack is too old for baby booties?

    B: Oh, no – 45 isn’t old.

    From the back, C yells “Freeze!” The players pause their activity, still holding mimed knitting needles, and C runs forward, checks the position of A, and taps A on the back. C takes A’s position, and A goes to the lineup at the back.

    C uses the position to mime eating with a knife and fork.

    C: This steak is tough.

    B puts his hands on his hips.

    B: You’re eating the placemat.

    A grimaces.

    From the back, D yells “Freeze!” The players freeze in position. D tags out A. C now uses the hands-on-hips position to accuse D.

    C: You have been sleeping with my wife. Now I will have to shoot you.

    C draws a gun.

    D: Could you give me another half hour with your wife first?

    And so on.

    When you tag a person out, shout “Freeze!”. Really – shout it. If you just say

    “Freeze” the players may not hear you. Don’t move as you shout – it looks messy. First shout, then, the moment the players have frozen their position, move quickly to replace one of them.

    Check their position from the front, then tap the player on the back and take exactly the same position. The scene then resumes.

    A Freeze game should go fast. One players delivers a line justifying the position in a new way. The other player responds, hopefully with a witty or surprising comeback.

    A and B each have an arm raised. A turns it into a wave.

    A: Goodbye, mom!

    B: We’ll see you again when you get back from bombing Hamburg!

    If you’re the first person to speak, avoid lines which control the other person. Instead, focus on justifying your own position.

    Try to avoid lines which control the other person.

  • He Said, She Said

    “He Said, She Said” is an improv game where two players control each other’s actions.

    The basic idea of the game is easy enough. One player delivers a line of dialogue. The other player then adds the words “he said” (or “she said”), followed by a description of the first player’s next actions.

    Ann: “Want some pancakes?”

    Ben: She said, drumming her fingers impatiently.

    Ann now does what she’s told, and starts drumming her fingers impatiently, while waiting for him to answer. Ben now delivers his next line.

    Ben: Sure, they look great.

    Now it’s Ann’s turn to add some description.

    Ann: He said, sitting down and taking all the pancakes, and stuffing them into his face.

    Ann’s line again…

    Ann: Hey!

    Ben: She said, tapdancing to attract his attention…

    And so on, back and forth. The fun part of the game is the way that players get to control each other’s actions. This can lead to interesting physical choices, which push the scene in unexpected directions. There’s also the potential for some gagging – a common ploy is to get player to do something that will embarrass them. (The improv term for this is “pimping”.) If done in a good spirit, this can be entertaining to watch.

    That’s the theory. In practice, “He Said, She Said” can be a confusing, and even stressful game – players often struggle to think of an “interesting” activity for the other player, then forget to follow up by delivering a line of their own, and may need frequent reminders about whose turn it is to speak.

    “He Said, She Said” should be a more dynamic version of “What Comes Next” (where people offstage call out the next action for an onstage character whenever they ask “What comes next?”), but it tends not to work as well to create a good scene.

    Part of the problem may be the wording of the game. The phrase “he said” often leads to literary, adverb-based constructions, like the clunky prose from a bad novel. Here’s an example of how not to play this game:

    Ann: Hi honey.

    Ben: She said, wonderingly, as she thought back to their time on the beach. Hi.

    Ann: He said, confusedly and anxiously, worried in case she was feeling bad about something.

    When the scene unfolds this way, players often look like they’ve been glued to the stage, each waiting for an action from the other.

    Sometimes, players take initiative, and perform actions on their own. This can leads to another common error, where players use “he said” to describe an action already in progress:

    Ann: (frying an egg) And where have you been?

    Ben: She said, frying an egg. (He stamps across the room.) Out!

    Ann: He said, stamping angrily across the room…

    When you’re not feeling the pressure of the moment, it’s pretty clear how to fix it. For the game to work properly, each player must deliver an action statement that gives their partner a new physical activity. Simple, obvious actions work well – “He said, smoothing her cheek”… “She said, picking up a knife.”

    Actually, picking up a knife seems to be a common choice in “He Said, She Said”. Scenes frequently head off in a violent or absurd direction, with players cutting off each other’s limbs, falling over, or performing crazy activities. Players can compensate by deliberately choosing only realistic and obvious activities, or choosing only “positive” actions.

    I’ve always found “He Said, She Said” a cumbersome game. I’ve recently been playing with a variation on this game, called “And then he said…”. I find it’s a more intuitive way of reaching the same goal.

    Here’s how it works. Each player delivers an action line for the other player – and the other player performs the actions as they are described. The player who is talking ends the description with the words: “And then he said…” (or “And then she said…”), at which point, the other player delivers a line that fits in with the new actions.

    The differences between this and “He Said, She Said” seem minor – a change of order, and a slight change of wording – but it seems to remove some significant blocks, so that “And Then He Said” usually gives interesting results.

    Here’s an example of how it might play.

    Ann: Stanley stormed into the room, threw his books onto the table and slumped into the chair.

    Ben, as Stanley, mimes the actions Ann describes.

    Ann: And then he said…

    Ben: I failed the exam.

    It’s now Ben’s turn to provide some action for Ann.

    Ben: Kathy laughed, as she licked her fingers and flipped the pages of her magazine.

    She does.

    Ben: And then she said…

    Ann: I told you – you should have used my secret method.

    Now it comes back to Ann to provide action for Ben.

    Ann: Stanley shook his head, then cupped his head in his hands and started to weep. And then he said…

    Ben: It’s so unfair! …

    In this game, when players deliver a line of dialogue, they should avoid the temptation to be clever or original – just say what feels like the obvious line in the circumstances. (This sometimes won’t be so obvious to other people.)

    The game works best if players don’t perform any significant physical action unless instructed by the other player. The instructions should then focus entirely on physical actions.

    When one player provides an action for the other, it often helps to look at them, even if this means breaking the reality of the scene. (For example, if Ann is gazing off at the stars, she should look back while instructing Ben to enter secretly.)

    The line introducing dialogue should always be simply “And then he said” or “And then she said”, depending on whether the character (not the actor) is male or female. It’s a neutral description, and can lead to many types of dialogue.

    I don’t know why it is, but players who have been precisely controlling the other performer’s actions are often seized by the desire to control the way they speak too, leading to lines like “And then he angrily said…” This spoils the spontaneity of the dialogue.

    Here’s an example of a scene unfolding well:

    Ann: Ben spotted Ann standing in the alley. He crept up behind her, and grabbed her. And then he said…

    Ben: I found you, mommy!

    This may spin off into a story about a mother who has been trying to get away from her child. But it could not have happened if Ann’s final line had been something too controlling – “And then he threateningly snarled”.

    In workshops, I’ve found that “He Said, She Said” requires a fair bit of coaching and practice before it works well as a performance game.  “And Then He Said” is easier to learn and more intuitive. It seems to produce more dramatic scenes. The actions can be more detailed, more focused on the present, and more interesting. The dialogue comes as a pleasant release for the player who has just gone through a period of silent action.

  • Parodying the film noir detective film

    Film noirThe film noir detective film, with its hard-boiled detectives and gorgeous, backstabbing dames, is a great genre to parody, whether as a comedy sketch, a sequence in a movie or sitcom, or an improvised scene.

    I’m going to discuss a few quick’n’dirty tricks to creating a detective genre parody.

    Imitating any genre usually requires either (1) an intimate knowledge of the genre, or (2) a number of tricks which make it appear that you have an intimate knowledge of the genre. Here we’re going to be looking at strategy number 2, as it applies to the 1940s detective mystery genre. (If you’re an improvisor, you can use the same techniques if you get the suggestion “film noir”.)

    The detective genre depends heavily on language, and using plausible detective jargon will take you a long way in a scene. You’ll find a list of some useful phrases below. You can also make up your own. Try to use metaphors and similes that conjure up images of the world the detective lives in. A big grimy city, filled with tough guys, narrow alleys, cheap bars, and greasy diners.

    Food references are good, but make sure they’re the kind of food you’d get in a diner: “Big Ed’s operation was like smoked meat. And I was going to put it on rye.”

    Make references to any grimy part of a city—sewers, rats, cockroaches: “Big Ed’s operation was like a sewer. And I was going to lift the manhole cover.”

    Connecting something to drinking is good too: “Big Ed’s operation was like a cheap bourbon. And I was going to put it on ice.”

    Titles

    These can be one of two types:

    1. The Big… something. (The Big Sleep, The Big Blue, the Big Bad Wolf . . . )

    2. Any well-known phrase which has had one of its words removed and replaced with the word “murder”:

    • Coffee, Tea, or Murder!
    • Eight Murdering Days till Christmas
    • Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Murderer!
    • Pleased to Murder you
    • Pop! Goes the Murder

    The word “death” is an alternative substitute:

    • I Now Declare You Man and Death
    • Death around the Roses
    • A Big Mac with Fries and Death
    • She Loves You, Yeah Yeah Death

    The titles don’t have to make much sense, providing they follow these rules. If you go to a bookstore specializing in mysteries, you may find that the made-up combinations you thought were corny are actually the titles of real books!

    How to Move

    Once you have the jargon down, try working on the typical detective moves.

    Everybody smokes in detective films. Cool characters will remove the cigarette from the packet, place it into their mouth, and light it, using only one hand. Women will blow smoke into the faces of men (this was once considered sexy).

    When entering a room which may contain your enemies, the detective should always move sideways, holding your gun against your ear. (Is this in order to deal with enemies by threatening suicide?) The rest of the time, keep your hands in your pockets. Don’t smile, or go big with emotions. (This does not mean that you shouldn’t use emotions—rather, play them as very suppressed.) You may find it helps to talk out of one side of your mouth.

    Women are usually the femme fatale type, walking with their hips, and apparently with no aim in life but to be seduced by men.

    The Plot

    The detective is in his office. It’s a slow day. Then a woman appears at the door. (He will usually fall in love with her during the course of the story, if not immediately.) She will give him some strange assignment, and is willing to pay his high fees. Inevitably the case will be more than it seems. The detective gets clunked over the head for no apparent reason. Perhaps someone will tell him to drop the case (which will only make him more determined to solve it). The story will end with a gunfight, and with the detective getting the girl (or for her wanting him but him having only contempt for her), and a complicated explanation, which, ideally, makes almost no sense.

    How to Use the Genre in Improv

    Of course, this genre can be used within the Genre Options game; however, this is a difficult game, and even many experienced improvisors can’t play it well. A better strategy is to perform a complete detective scene. You might ask the audience for a title (The Big [blank]), and then perform that title in the detective genre. This allows you to concentrate on this genre, rather than trying to practice the many genres required for Genre Options.

    The constant first-person narration usually found in the detective mystery (“I went inside. I didn’t like what I saw . . .” etc.) makes it ideal for Typewriter Scenes, where the player on the microphone provides the detective’s narration, and another player plays the on-stage detective. (If you are doing a detective scene without an off-stage narrator, the improvisor playing the detective should frequently switch to narrator mode, delivering narrative directly to the audience.)

    Something that is rarely seen on stage, but which should work well is to use the detective genre for a Word at a Time game. Once again, the narration fits in perfectly with the game.

    Also, since the genre’s distinctiveness is mainly verbal, it can be used for a style in the Die Game.

    Try adding the qualities of this genre to games where you might not normally use them—e.g., Boris, Fairy Tale, I Love You Scene, Arms Expert.

    Sexism in the Detective Genre

    Traditionally, the detective mystery contains a tough male lead character, who by modern standards would be perceived as a sexist pig. (“Hey, glamour! Get over here!”) The women who appear are usually there primarily as love interests.

    There is nothing wrong with playing these scenes with men and women playing their usual stereotypes. After all, you are attempting to be faithful to a genre. However, if you decide to exaggerate the sexism for comic effect, don’t be surprised if it gets a negative reaction from the audience.

    Some improvisors may want to experiment with the sex stereotyping in the detective mystery. Why not try placing women in the roles traditionally given to the men, and vice versa. Or place a 1940s detective in an environment filled with 1990s women, reacting appropriately to his sexist comments.

    Before you try this at home . . .

    Played well, this genre can get big laughs from an audience. However, it does require practice, and memorizing some of the common jargon. If you’re going to do it, make sure you do it well.

    If you are really interested in the genre, try watching some of the old movies, especially the really bad ones. (Casablanca isn’t really typical.)

    The Big Lingo

    (A glossary of detective jargon)

    I’d like to thank my my friend Russell Martin, who drew on his encyclopedic knowledge of mystery writing to put together the following the following lists of gangster jargon. Most of these can be found in actual mystery novels and movies.

    • Ace: typical gangster nickname
    • add up: what a caper doesn’t do till the end
    • amble: walk
    • Angel: form of address for a woman
    • axe: musical instrument
    • big cheese: gangster boss
    • big house: prison
    • big ones (as in five): thousands of dollars
    • bird: guy
    • bootlegger: dealer in illegal liquor
    • bracelets: handcuffs
    • bull: uniformed policeman
    • bump off: kill
    • bum’s rush, get the: be thrown out of a place
    • burn: kill
    • button man: assassin
    • C-note: $100 bill
    • cabbage: money
    • cement overcoat: cement “coffin”
    • Chicago heater: machine gun
    • Chicago lightning: bullets
    • Chicago typewriter: machine gun
    • chill: kill
    • chiseller: con artist
    • cheap hood: small-time thug
    • Cheese it! The cops!: Look out! The police!
    • choppers: teeth
    • Clyde: form of address for a man
    • contract: agreement to kill someone
    • copacetic: O.K., “everything’s copacetic.”
    • cough up: hand over
    • crack (this case) wide open: solve
    • croak: die
    • crumb: undesirable man
    • crooner: singer (male)
    • coffin nail: cigarette
    • curtains: death
    • dame: a woman
    • dick: detective
    • dive: place of ill character
    • dough: money
    • Duchess: form of address for a woman
    • dust: leave in a hurry
    • eyeball: look at
    • fall in love with a client: what you never do.
    • flatfoot: police detective
    • frail: a woman
    • (lousy) frameup: faked circumstances of a crime
    • funny money: counterfeit
    • G-man: FBI agent
    • G’s (as in five): thousands of dollars
    • gat: gun
    • goon: thug
    • gorgeous: form of address for a woman
    • gorilla: muscular man
    • grab some air: hands up
    • grub: food
    • gumshoe: private eye
    • gunsel: gunman (spurious)
    • hardware: gun
    • heel: undesirable man
    • heist (n,v): robbery; steal
    • hit the pavement: walk
    • hooch: liquor
    • hoochie-coocher: exotic dancer
    • hop-head: pot smoker
    • hot: stolen
    • hot seat: electric chair
    • ice (n): diamonds
    • ice (v): kill
    • jane: a woman
    • java: coffee
    • Jersey: typical gangster nickname
    • jimmy: pry open
    • joint: place
    • junk: drugs
    • kingpin: head gangster
    • lullaby cocktail: drugged drink
    • Mac: form of address for a man
    • making license plates: in prison
    • nightcap: what you go to her apartment for
    • old man, the: head of the detective agency, if you are not self-employed.
    • Princess: form of address for a woman
    • Purple Gang: typical name for a gang
    • simoleons: dollars
    • sing: confess
    • sister: form of address for a woman
    • squealer: informer
    • stool pigeon: informer
    • stoolie: informer
    • sucker, a: what no one plays you for
    • Sunday School picnic: what this caper isn’t turning into
    • talk: confess
    • tomato: a woman

    Some useful metaphors and similes

    • “An hour crawled by like a sick cockroach.”
    • “This guy was tough. As tough as a nickel steak.”
    • “It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window.”
    • “His hands were big. As big as plates of spareribs, and twice as greasy.”
    • “My rod was fresh out of fishhooks.”

    This last phrase, by the way, means that the detective is out of ammunition, and not that he is impotent.

    Note the structure when you describe somebody. “He was ____. As ____ as a ____.” Break it into two sentences. Private eyes don’t talk in long stretches.

    Here’s a versatile phrase:

    “I was mad. Real mad. So mad I could taste it.”

    Any emotion can be substituted for the word “mad.”

    Some good detective sentences:

    • “The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.”
    • “It was a blonde, and blondes always mean trouble.” (So do brunettes, redheads, etc.)
    • “Mr. Big gave a signal. Two of his goons started to work me over.”
    • “No one plays me for a sucker and gets away with it.”
    • “There was more to this caper than I’d bargained for.”
    • “The D.A. was after me, Lieutenant O’Hara was after me, Big Ed was after me. I had to crack this before someone caught up.”
    • “I didn’t like his face. When he said he was called Smith, I didn’t like his name either.”
    • “I don’t like to see cheap hoods messing with a sweet kid like you, Princess.”
    • “She crossed her legs. She knew they were good. She leaned forward. She knew they were good too.”
    • “I hadn’t started this thing, but it was up to me to finish it.”
    • “You’re not working on this case any more, Mr. Hardstone. You’re fired.”/“Maybe you’ve fired me, but I haven’t fired me.”
    • “There was a killer out there . . . and it was my job to find him.”

    Further Reading…

    Want more? Here are a couple of websites with good lists of detective slang.

    Twists, Slug and Roscoes: A Glossary of Hardboiled Slang

    Molls and Dolls – 1920s slang dictionary

  • The sketch comedy monologue

    If you’re writing sketch comedy, the monologue is a real time-saver.

    A sketch comedy monologue usually involves one actor talking directly to the audience in character. The comedy comes from the character, and will usually have a story to it. It’s different from a standup monologue, which typically depends more heavily on a series of gags stuck together with weak segues.

    Only one actor is required, so they’re easy to write, rehearse and produce, assuming your character isn’t simultaneously disemboweling an elephant, or shooting incoming TIE fighters. And even then, you can probably just mime them.

    A monologue is a great choice to put before a big production number. While one cast member delivers the monologue, the rest can prepare for the sketch that follows.

    Monologues are talky by nature. There probably won’t be a lot of action, and events may be told rather than shown. Avoid heading into talking head territory: make sure your characters have some attitude or emotion.

    Monologues can be made more interesting if characters play a subtext, so what they’re saying is at odds with what they really think. A character who is supposed to be delivering a heartfelt thank you speech for best supporting actress might have the subtext that she resents not getting the starring role.

    Monologue recipes

    Here are a few starting points for comedy monologues:

    One side of a telephone conversation
    A lot of the comic potential here is making the audience imagine what is happening, or being said on the other end of the phone. Comedian Bob Newhart is a master of this genre, and his recordings from the 1960s are still funny today.

    Welcoming a group of visitors
    Treat the audience as the newcomers – perhaps to a school, a camp, a wellness symposium, a psychics conference. For example, in a brilliant Rowan Atkinson greeted new arrivals to hell.

    An announcement to the audience
    You might explain that one of your cast members has quit the group, or that the show has been cancelled and replaced by a different show. It’s usually played in a natural manner. Bob Odenkirk and David Cross frequently used this kind of technique in Mr. Show.

    Talking to a different theatre audience
    You treat the audience as an audience, which feels very natural. Perhaps Lincoln has just been shot, and you’re an actor on stage, trying to entertain the crowd while medical personnel look after the problem. Or, sticking with the historical theme, you’re Shakespeare, asking for feedback after the first performance of Hamlet. In an outstanding Eleanor Bron monologue from A Poke In The Eye With A Sharp Stick, she plays the nervous organizer of an amateur show. She nervously explains how performers have worked hard to create the show, and encourages the audience to work equally hard to enjoy it.

    Talking to the audience as if they are an offstage character
    A boyfriend breaking up a girlfriend. A villain talking to James Bond. In the film Pulp Fiction, Christopher Walken’s speech about the watch is a good comic monologue, and would probably work just as well as a sketch comedy piece.

    Delivering a speech
    An award acceptance. A video will. A speech at a wedding reception. A presidential address to the nation. This sort of format is often used in sketch shows such as Monty Python, SNL, Mr Show, and MAD TV.

    Teacher addressing a class
    This often turns up as a monologue format. Rowan Atkinson’s “Schoolmaster” sketch made him famous – half the sketch consists of the attendance list. Ben Stein’s schoolteacher scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is essentially a sketch monologue.