Holy Shit Improv!

Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose

Improv is difficult and subjective, more so than other genre. A performer really has to be at the top of their game in order to be even just halfway decent at improv, because there’s no one tool that they can rely on to move a scene forward. The quality of improv mostly swings between two extremes, poor and fantastic. Holy Shit Improv can be safely considered the latter.

 

This show is split technically in two parts, but it feels a little over that, due to the incorporation of a guest monologue, a different one is invited every night, an addition which feels like it’s own distinct part. During the first half, a word is sourced from the audience from which the actors build the scene. The invited guest then delivers a kind of monologue or light stand-up based on what was shown in the first half, which is then used by the group to inspire their performance in the second half. To move the show forward, the actors will tap each other in and out, changing the scene as they do. It is unclear though if this is happens when they each feel a scene is flagging or just have an idea that they want to try, but either way, Holy Shit Improv is probably the clearest representation of the ‘yes and’ rule of improv.

 

The group’s chemistry is off the charts. Their energy is incredibly intense, intoxicating and smashes through the fourth wall to the point where it transfers to us. It’s funny how dead-pan and serious the actors are sometimes, even as they are bouncing off of each other’s ideas and gags. The group is clearly having fun and laughing with us as they create each joke and scene. It’s almost an exercise in good sportsmanship in that as much as they like to challenge and push each other, they will never step on someone else’s joke or moment, and instead continuously develop and build on what has come before in order to create what comes next. This is structured comedic chaos, in that there are rules of the genre that are respected and adhered to, but within those guidelines, chaos reigns supreme. The links that are made and developed often lead to insane results that leave us breathless and the progression of the various scenes and gags are superficially tenuous, until we realise that everything that we see is clearly the funniest decision that could have been made in the moment. 

“Everything that we see is clearly the funniest decision that could have been made in the moment.”

Holy Shit Improv has introduced a new segment this year where instead of seeking more audience suggestions or participation in the second half, they invite a comic to do a monologue that is based on their performance in the first half of the show, which the group then uses to inspire their scenes, in a comedy begetting comedy begetting comedy sort of way. The only thing is that it means that we get really limited insight into their comedy thought process; they don’t really ask any questions – even during the first part when the group is just seeking a word – which doesn’t seem like a big deal, until we see those same questions play out and inspire something onstage, sometimes it’s just a reference, other times it’s a bit paying off. The guest’s comedy appears to be more stand-up oriented than improvisation, as they try to match some form of their own prepared material to something off-the-cuff that has already occurred onstage.  This segment and its deviation from traditional improv forces the actors to take instruction from an outside comedy source and commit to the comedy already established by another professional rather than create them from scratch. Nothing changes in the quality of the overall performance, and if anything showcases the extent and how far the performers onstage can take a running gag. Whilst it’s an interesting choice to depart from the typical audience participation, it certainly poses a risk to the authenticity of the improvisational nature of the content. Harsher critics would question how much of the action onstage is therefore improvised, because it’s not too far-fetched to assume that if a group has invited a guest, that the group may be familiar or aware of the guest’s material to an extent, which in turn slightly removes the perception of improvisation that the genre relies on by definition. The result is what we expect and what has already been proven to us; hilarious and unpredictable twists and turns, but the suspension of disbelief is slightly undermined. It’s a curious experiment, but detracts from the show as a whole.   

 The group is fast, furious and fresh, breathing new life into the Fringe’s improv scene after a period of stagnation. With their second year at the Fringe, it is clear that Holy Shit Improv is on its way to becoming a staple.

By Katerina Partolina Schwartz

Photo Credit: Evan Perkins