Top Five Things for Giving Notes

Having to give notes in improv is a necessary evil. We've got to look at our performances with a critical eye if we want to improve at we're doing and make it easier for us to have fun while we're playing and for an audience to have fun watching us. Here are some things that I've found to alleviate some of the awkwardness that comes with giving notes in improv:

1. Ask the performers how they felt about the scene. Did they enjoy anything specifically? Did they feel themselves slip up or succeed? If they noticed a success you can tell them what was great about it and try to encourage any good tactics they've come up with. If they struggled with something, point out what made it difficult and how to steer out of that skid.
2. If you are a performer as well, give yourself the harshest notes. Be the first to admit when you make a mistake, diagnose how you can fix it. Before you give anybody else a negative note, really search your work to see if you can apply it to yourself first.
3. Acknowledge that there isn't one specific way to do things. Rules in improv only represent the simplest path to success, not the only path to success. I know improvisers who break every single rule and create wonderful, hilarious scenes without alienating their partners. If someone breaks a fundamental principle of improv but it still works somehow, discuss what made it work.
4. Give mostly positive notes. Nothing hurts people's creativity more than you telling them that they're bad at playing make-believe. If you see a scene that has 20 bad ideas and 1 good one, rave about that good idea and forget all the bad ones. Yes! You were a genius to come up with that singular moment, let's do more of that awesome stuff! A positive atmosphere begets joyful work.
5. Pay attention and react enthusiastically. Watch everything that happens, watch all the little things, get invested in the scenes and the characters. If something's funny, laugh. If something's sweet give'em an "awwwww." If they make a horrible pun, boo loudly. Don't spend too much time writing down your notes, if the note is that important you will be able to remember it after the scene. If you care about their work, the improvisers will care about their work too.

Those are the TOP FIVE THINGS (pew pew pew) to get you started giving notes. I stray from these occasionally, but I don't think straying has ever made my notes more insightful or better received. If anybody has any suggestions that could help with giving notes, I'd love to read them.

From Improv to D&D

I started a Dungeons and Dragons campaign a few months back because it's something that I've always wanted to do and I was tired of waiting for somebody else to invite me to their game. I thought that since I love to write and improvise and make up characters on the spot, being a Dungeon Master would be a great fit for me. But when we started playing, I realized that improv instincts weren't carrying over into the game for some reason. I bought a whole damn book on rules for this game and we're going to follow every one of them, dammit! I paid cold hard cash for these encounters and dungeon maps and item listings, and you are gonna experience every single bit of this stuff even if it bores all of us!

My notes took me  hours to compile and my sessions were rote, boring, and devoid of details. I had no space in my brain to make up fun things because I was so focused on the idea that they were in a room that was 40ft by 50ft and the ceilings were 15 ft high and there's an exit to the south and north etc. etc. Even worse, I felt super stressed out every time Sunday rolled around and it was time for us to forge ahead in our adventure. That sucked, and the worst part is that I knew it was my fault that it sucked.

I stepped back from the game for a little while and I realized that I was focusing on the parts of the game that are the least interesting. What makes D&D fun? Creatively solving problems, silly characters, making up a whole world with the help of a couple of friends. What was I doing? Grids, tables, and very precise, rigid character interaction.

My prime directive is that if a player wants to do something cool, I find a way to say yes to them. If they are about to fail or sit in a place for hours upon hours and accomplish nothing, I let them. No more advice and nudging, just tell them what's happening and let them decide how to interact with it. At the moment most of my players are still boxed in by how I ran the first half of our sessions, but I'm hoping they'll have their Matrix "there is no spoon" moment within the next few meetings. 

My notes are: 

• a basic map of the places they're in and could go to
• stats for anybody they may encounter
• a list of character names and quirks that I could throw out if they talk to someone instead of murdering them
• the long-term goal and short term tactics of the main characters in the campaign

This way I can just say, "These things exist" and shut my big mouth. They make the decision to interact with things or leave them alone and I only chip in when they need me to do something. I'm all of a sudden not the only one making things up and it's so much more fun and collaborative! I can do this exactly like an improv scene, except this improv scene tends to move a lot more slowly and I can plan out all of my very dumb jokes as well as make more on the fly. Improv is a great tool in a lot of situations but it only works if you use it!

Little Accomplishment, Big Satisfaction

I have this weird mental block when it comes to joke-based games and singing games in improv. Scenes are my safe place and what I know how to do. I feel comfortable plodding along until a funny happens, but the immediacy required from line games and the pinpoint accuracy required in songs has always intimidated me. 

With my thoughts on how I'm not challenging myself enough fresh in my mind, I set out to do an improv show with only joke-based and song-based games. I think there were some baby steps of improvement for me!

Line game moment: there was a dreaded moment of silence after we got a give and I leapt on the grenade. I stepped forward without a joke and managed to make one up as it came out of my mouth. If I didn't have one I'd have probably had to just repeat the give in a confused way until someone pulled me off of the stage. Dang, that might've been better. 

Song moment: I started my verses at the right time! I didn't mess up the tempo so much that the song crashed and burned horrifically. Maybe now that I'm certain I can board the singing bus I'll be able to move up to driving it. 

You Know, Ozymandias Did a Lot of Good Stuff, Too

Watchmen spoilers ahead. If you haven't read Watchmen, quit reading my dumb blog and go read Watchmen.

Yeah sure, he devastated cities across the globe and cost hundreds of thousands of lives in the process, but hear me out! The Oz-man was an incredibly driven dude. Not only did he accomplish his sinister plan, but he avoided a common comic book villain mistake by waiting until after he'd already executed on his schemes to explain everything to the people who would stop him.

Did you know you're less likely to achieve a goal that you've told other people about? Derek Sivers talked about this in his TED Talk about keeping your goals to yourself. Basically you trick your brain into thinking you've already accomplished your goal when you share it with other people. Because you've already gotten satisfaction from it, you're less likely to do the work that's in front of you. I'm not going to be kidnapping many of the world's greatest artists and destroying countless cities and lives and blaming it on a giant-squid alien that I've invented, but from now on I'm going to do my best to keep my goals secret until I've already done the work to achieve them. Once I've made it, I'll wait 35 minutes and tell you about how cool it was.

To Myself: I'M CALLIN YOU OUT, BROTHER!

I've noticed a pattern in my day to day conversations where I will list an honest criticism of myself and the other person will deflect it. I think that comes from an incredibly kind place and I'm massively grateful to have friends that want to support me when I am down on myself, but I do think that it can be an impediment to personal growth if I don't ignore their comforting words from time to time. All my life I've teachers and bosses tell me that I'm very good at whatever I'm doing at the time but they think I can do even better. On the other hand, peers tend to spend their time telling me I'm incredible and why should I bother working more when I'm already awesome. You can guess which one tends to have a little more influence on my behavior.

The thing is, I agree with my teachers. My learning process seems to begin with huge growth. I take leaps and bounds and learn as much as I can and I devote my full focus to the task in front of me. Invariably, I find myself getting complacent with my achievements and I just stop working as hard. A lot of the time, the complacency begins with somebody I respect giving me the validation of "wow, you're really good!" I stand back and think, "yeah, I am great, aren't I?"

I think about where I'm at as a teacher and actor and improviser and I realize it's not very much different from where I was a year ago. I know I am doing things, but I also know that I could be doing more. I know that I could be taking more lessons away from the things that I am already doing. Unlike any previous point in my life, though, I don't have a mentor to push me just that little bit further. That person who is never quite satisfied with what I've done.

It's clear to me now that I have to be that person for myself. I am the one who is not satisfied with my progress. I'm doing all right, but I know I can do better. I'm not going to pat myself on the back for just showing up anymore. Participation isn't enough for me, I need to excel. I need to fight more and work harder, not because somebody else wants me to but because I am capable of it. In the words of Shia Labeouf, "Yesterday you said tomorrow so just do it! MAKE. YOUR DREAMS. COME TRUE."