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- Formats Unpacked: Long-Form Improv Comedy
Formats Unpacked: Long-Form Improv Comedy
How a format is built around listening, agreement and commitment
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Hi all,
As a subscriber to this newsletter, it’s safe to assume that you’re interested in how formats can help you build audiences in this post-social era we’re entering. So, you might want to check out Attention Matters, another Storythings newsletter. This week we look at what happened when GQ changed its content strategy and stopped designing for the algorithm. It’s a great read. If you need help thinking about your content strategy hit that big pink button below.
This week, our very own Grace Dobush returns to Formats Unpacked. Grace is a regular having previously unpacked Pre-Flight Safety Demonstration Videos, Sports Brackets and the Kroll Show to name a few. Follow Grace on Twitter, then be sure to check out her brilliant work as editor of the ReThink Quarterly, a publication we make with ADP. Grace also exec produced the awesome Phoenixed, a podcast we made for the Global Payroll Association.
Over to Grace…
What’s it called?
Long-form improvised comedy
What’s the format?
There are so many formats! Some are super complicated with multiple acts, and others are just a bunch of little scenes. But the one thing the long-form improv formats all have in common is that the stories are created on stage in real time, never to be seen again.
What’s the magic that makes it special?
Usually, the performers take a suggestion of a single word or a location to get started, and then the scenes begin. “The very act of making things up together is often pretty funny,” improv legend Will Hines explains. “But here’s an important point: there is nothing built into long-form improv that GUARANTEES it will be funny. It’s like you’re playing basketball, but you begin the game with no baskets to shoot balls into. You have to build poles, install baskets and then shoot balls into them — all as part of the game.”
If you’re a casual improv comedy fan, you might never notice that everyone on stage is working to a form. The people on stage keep track of where they are in a format in their heads, and to the audience, the call backs, interweaving plotlines and story resolution seem like absolute magic. “Surely you must have rehearsed this!” people will exclaim after watching a 20-minute set inspired by the word “microwave” that took them on a journey to an alien spaceship, a kindergarten classroom and the White House.
The biggest underlying tenet of improv is “Yes, and...” — agreeing with the reality being presented to you and expanding on it. It’s not funny if someone says, “Well, this submarine sure is cozy,” and the other player responds, “I thought we were shopping at IKEA!” It is absolutely funny if in response to “Well, this submarine sure is cozy,” the other player says, “I know it’s kind of a weird spot for a first date, but I’m glad you were up for it!” Yes-anding requires active listening, agreement and commitment — that kind of thinking is helpful in any kind of presentation.
Favourite Incarnation
The improv school I’m part of is a big proponent of The Harold, which is one of the oldest and most well-known long-form improv formats. In a Harold (which can be as short as 20 minutes or as long as 40 minutes), the four to eight performers on stage take a one-word suggestion from the audience and then begin discovering a world together.
There is first an opening of a few minutes, during which the performers are exploring the world and gathering ideas for scenes. This could be a series of little monologues or tiny scenes or word association or group movement.
Then the performers create three scenes, each drawing some inspiration from the opening. This is called the first beat. Then there’s another short group game, like a palate cleanser to mark the end of the first beat before going into the second beat, where we revisit each of the three scenes — perhaps heightening a situation, or taking a character to another location, bringing new people into an existing location, or engaging in an analogous situation.
There’s another group game before we get to beat three, when every scene is heightened as much as possible. The scenes in beat three are often getting shorter, more chaotic and overlapping with each other. And when the laughs have gotten as big as they will get (or the time runs out), the stage will go to black, and it’s all over. Here’s a great example of a Harold in action — but to really get the full experience, you gotta see one live.
Thanks, Grace,
I’m a big fan of the idea Grace makes about ‘Yes,and…’ being useful in many ways. Creative ideas are built on existing ideas and being able to spot the value of what is presented to you is a good skill to develop.
We are always looking for contributors so if you’d like to unpack a favourite format get in touch.
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See you all next time,
Hugh
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