Brand Name, Restocked

Oh, my love, how do I miss thee? Let me count the ways... Jordan, Matt, Heidi, Wyatt, Tommy, Karen... Six. Six ways. (listening to: "Flavor of the Weak," American Hi/Fi)

To anyone who may be reading this from the world of theatre: let me just say.. I have met the enemy, and they are beyond the fourth wall. Let me explain... no, there is too much.. let me sum up.

Improvisational theatre is still seen as the bastard child of the entertainment world. And it's a really appropriate title, as well. Improv is still young, only the product of the last 25 years or so, and more recently than that as a performance-worthy endeavor. And what really doesn't help the cause of legitimizing it is the fact that audiences treat it like baggy pants comedy night.

I just returned from a weekend in Sioux Falls, a smallish big city that is earning a name for itself as a mecca for improv. Even with such a reputation, budding though it is, still we find that audiences don't know how to be respectful to such a beast. In a one-hour show, billed as "one-man improv," (heretofore called "JL") there were two instances of horrible, despicable behavior by audience members.

1) A High School senior (or one who borrowed his older brother's "05" letterman's jacket) constantly took it upon himself to provide the in-house sound effects for the performer's show. Nearly every scene had a phone ringing, and there was the peculiar reoccurance of a cat. Big props to the man onstage who took it and did the best he could to acknowledge the idiot in the stands, while making it clear to everyone besides "phone boy" that now would be a good time to start. He didn't have to be upset with the kid and hate him.. he left that to we, the audience. Thanks, JL.

2) Solidly half way through the ONE-MAN SHOW, a woman from the audience (a friend of the theatre, and an actress of some experience) ran with what had to have been an insatiable desire to be a part of the action, and lept from her seat to join JL onstage. In my seat, I became instantly incredibly uncomfortable. WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON? There was a split second where JL looked exactly like you would imagine someone to look if you were to open your chest with a zipper and ask them to check for termites. Then, just as quickly as it had come, he decided to just roll with it again, and for the next ten minutes, it became a two-person show. To this lady's credit, she wasn't the worst improviser I've ever seen, but... her skill is not the issue. Her choice to make the show about her is.

Please, folks, love the theatre... just don't LOVE the theatre.

In other news. Brand Name reunited for what had to have bene the most refreshing and eventful 40 minute set in the last five years of our collective careers. SO good to get back on that stage. Daisy took pictures of the digital nature of history in the making, so for those who want to live the dream, just let me know.

Back home, and life is slowly returning to the normalcy I hate. Please, God.. show me motivation to not quit acting.