“You had to be there” is the failsafe response to any joke or anecdote that fails to land. It’s the unofficial catchphrase of many comedians, but for none is it so relevant as improv. So it will be difficult to accurately recreate the late-night Trinity Arts Festival (TAF) event that happened in Players Theatre yesterday evening, Improv, TAF Wrote. The show was free and capped off a day of workshops and talks that had kicked off at 10am.
Improv, She Wrote have made a welcomed return to Trinity this year, to which the huge crowd milling outside the theatre last night was testament. Extra rows of seating had to be added in, and even so dozens of punters were crouched on the floor. They were an enthusiastic and excitable crowd, showering the improv team with positive energy that was evident from the very first game. The cast, several of whom had dashed over from the University Philosophical Society’s (the Phil) Liferaft Debate in the Graduates Memorial Building (GMB) just half an hour before (in which Improv sadly failed to win a spot on the boat) showed an exceptional ability to get into the fast-thinking mindset necessary for one of the most popular – and most difficult – mediums of comedy.
The evening kicked off with what was possibly the whitest rap battle in history, in which performers were given a one-syllable word to rhyme their lyrics to for as many verses as possible. The game came to a tragic end when Tim Houston attempted to rhyme “beer” with a river in the UK his mostly Irish and American team had never heard of.
Even his fellow Englishman Jules Lom gave him a look of bewilderment as the group moved onto long-form improvisation, a game which requires as much stamina as humour on the part of the performers. Taking inspiration from the headlines of the Sun, the story of an unloved son failing to successfully sing the BeeGees in karaoke and its devastating consequences was told with the help of a woman in labour, a failing marriage and a Rottweiler in a pram. Next, pre-written audience suggestions were shoved into Jade Silke-Fetherston and Tim Houston’s pockets as they attempted a rational conversation between a hairdresser and his client.
My personal favourite was the game in which two performers played a man with two heads but only one voice trying to have a conversation with his fellow beekeeper, which culminated in a limerick ending in a marriage proposal. The nature of improv means of course that some material will land better than others, and it’s crucial that the group have a strong line of communication under strange circumstances; fortunately, Improv, She Wrote do. The crowd were highly receptive to their material, even if just for the oddness of the narrative they tried to create at times.
If you missed Improv, She Wrote last night don’t worry – they put on regular shows throughout the year, usually in Players Theatre, and are always worth the visit. One thing is guaranteed, no two shows will be anything alike. Last night’s performance ended with a blind date game that saw a wheelbarrow turned down in favour of Josef Stalin.
Like I said, you had to be there.
