Subtitle

Making the invisible...visible.

Friday, January 19, 2018

Improv and Theology


“Wanna hear you say yeah yeah yeah” ~Maroon 5

After years of watching Whose Line Is It, Anyway?, marveling at the talents of comedic giants like Colin Mochrie and Ryan Stiles, I stumbled across an improv club in high school freshman year. Since then, I have been practicing improv comedy for roughly fifteen years under a variety of local troupes.
When I entered seminary to study for the Roman Catholic priesthood, I feared my improv days had come to an end. On the contrary, I am constantly amazed at how the seminary has embraced the whole man that I am—including my theater gifts—and even deepened my appreciation for improv.
YES, AND:
            One of the foundational rules of improv is commonly known as “Yes, And”. It refers to receiving the idea another gives you and then adding to it.
Say I’m in a scene with Carla. She begins the scene by shouting at me, “Joey, your pants are on fire!” If I respond, “No, they’re not,” I have effectively killed the scene (and committed improv heresy). If, however, I say something like “That’s right. I lit my own pants on fire to prove my love for you,” now the scene is going somewhere. In the latter example, not only have I received Carla’s idea (YES), I also added to her idea (AND). If Carla then runs with what I introduced into the scene and adds more to it, the results could be pretty funny.   
You want to know what the mortal sin of improv is? It’s denying your teammate’s idea because you think your own idea is cooler. Failure to accept your teammate’s idea will lead to a disjointed, lame scene with two of Bryan Regan’s “Me Monsters” on stage. Good improv involves a harmonious interchange between the players of continuous giving and receiving.
Interestingly enough, the former pope, St. John Paul II (who himself had a great love for theater) writes something strikingly similar to this improv rule in regards to God, sex, and the meaning of life. For JPII, God is One and Triune, an eternal exchange of love (of giving and receiving) between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. He speaks of this mystery through the analogy of sexual intercourse, not as an isolated act, but as the sum of the whole married life of a couple. In and through their bodies, the man and the woman both make a gift of self where “giving and accepting the gift interpenetrate in such a way that the very act of giving becomes acceptance, and acceptance transforms itself into giving” (TOB 17:4).
Sit back and wonder with me for a moment. What if the beautiful things in this world point to the deepest mysteries of our humanity and of God? What if there are patterns interwoven into the good things we enjoy—like art and improv—that ultimately point us to a God who is a communion of love?
Focus on the Relationship:
Which is a more interesting scene? A zombie apocalypse, or a zombie apocalypse where one of the zombies is a vegan and struggles to find acceptance among his other zombie friends? Zombie apocalypse happens in both scenes, but the latter example is more interesting because it involves relationship. Good improv focuses on the relationships of the characters to drive the scene, not just witty banter or the external events being portrayed. I like to establish a relationship early in the scene. One way to do this is by giving the other player a name: i.e. “Steve, you’re embarrassingly late to this meeting.”
Relationship matters. I’ve made some pretty big mistakes in life by putting more value in my company sales scorecard and in my accomplishments than in the people that love me freely. If I forget the relationship that matters most—the Father who loves me as his son—then I risk forgetting who I am. My work can turn into frenetic activism, or be motivated by pride instead of authentic love. Choosing to live in and out of relationship is a decision I must make every morning.
It Takes Practice:
            Whenever I tell people I have improv practice or show rehearsal, the usual response is: “Improv practice? I thought you like…make that stuff up on the spot?” It’s true that improv comedy relies on audience suggestions to form unscripted, unrehearsed scenes. Even so, improv itself is a skill that needs to be worked at. Getting comfortable with receiving and giving, remembering to focus on the relationship in a scene, these things do not come easy at first! With committed effort, however, and after a lot of failure, the improv skills start to become second nature.
            Just like how one needs to practice scenework in order to be a great improver, we too need practice in loving God and loving others. These can be fostered in concrete ways. One of the teens in my youth group decided he would stock his car with granola bars to encourage himself to be more generous to the homeless people at stoplights. Another teen has chosen to let God love her every week for one hour of prayer in front of the Blessed Sacrament.
Receive It Well:
Improv is not about being funny on command. Improv relies on receiving the gift well. Christopher West likes to say that holiness is not so much doing something, but “letting it be done unto me” (Luke 1:38). The Church honors Mary as the model and archetype of the human race because she had the courage to say YES to God’s idea AND give her whole life to him.
Jesus has given us the gift of his whole self out of love for us. Will we receive his gift? That could make for quite an exciting scene…

#

Written by Joey Martineck
Director of Creative Arts, Notre Dame Seminary
Seminarian for Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Atlanta, GA



No comments:

Post a Comment