Tonight, Jess is training along with the rest of the company’s “Technique” group of up-and-comers in preparation for putting on a season of Harold beginning in July. Meanwhile, I’ve visited a couple of nearby geocaches following reports of a geocoin in the area and have now settled down in a quiet courtyard to partake of the peace and serenity (not to mention the Impro Melbourne wireless network).

Harold—at least the way we play it, which is more formally known as the Unstructured Harold—is a free-form improvisation format where players riff on a particular word or theme through a series of scenes, movement pieces, musical numbers and whatever else happens to come about. These are revisited (or not) until the whole thing culminates into a (hopefully) satisfying conclusion. Sarah Kinsella, Impro Melbourne’s foremost authority on Harold, directed the format during Unforeseen Stories, and is leading the training of the Technique group for their July run.

Because Harold is almost entirely different every time it is played, it’s one of those formats you can fall in love with after seeing a particular show, and then get frustrated with as you attempt to recapture that magic. On the other hand, Harold also tends to produce a new and different kind of magic every time it is played … which is what keeps me coming back for more.

Having recently joined the ranks of Impro Melbourne‘s talented ensemble, this was the first Festival where I took to the stage! Joining on opening night the cast of Impro Melbourne’s production of Smells Like a Song was a privilege … not to mention a blast!

Making the occasion extra special, my parents had arrived in town just in time to see me in an impro show for the first time—an improvised musical, no less! The pressure was on, but as always happens when I hit the stage to improvise, my mind went blank and I forgot they were even there.

Although Smells went on to have better nights (including a closing night that nearly brought the house down), it seems my new blood made a good impression on my fellow improvisers, because I’ve since been cast rather heavily in the upcoming season of Unforeseen Stories, which starts next week, hot on the heels of the Festival!

But by far the greatest moment of this Festival for me was the “Impro Love-In Jam” organized by Lliam Amor and Janelle Koenig, where all the Australian improvisers in the festival were invited to rub elbows, play games and shout each other drinks. The three hours sped by, and a few new bridges were built between Melbourne’s traditionally insular impro companies.

We’d love to see some familiar faces in the audience over the next couple of weeks. Book now while you can!

Seriously though, this is the culmination of three years of training and practice on my part, and of mentorship and support on the company’s. I’ve come a long way since the days where I’d sit in the audience and think, “I could never do that.” Along the way, I’ve had the privilege to play with those I had idolised, to learn by their influence and example, and to stand on their shoulders while developing my own approach and style. Today, I was asked to join their number, an overwhelming honour.

For those of you who have come to see me in Impro Melbourne shows in the past, I’ll now be performing in later segments of those same shows, along with the other permanent members of the company. As I settle in and find my footing, I’m likely to appear in more shows and in more prominent roles than I have in the past.

In some ways, this transition is bittersweet. I’ve trained, created and laughed with members of Impro Melbourne’s “junior” level (internally called the Technique/Craft group, for want of a better name) for two years now, most recently creating the original format, Tangents, of which I am immensely proud. Although I look forward to continuing to share the stage with them, I won’t be training with them on a regular basis anymore. I’ll miss those Tuesday night classes, and do hope to be involved with the rumoured revival and restaging of Tangents next year. But most of all I look forward to their joining me in the ensemble one day soon—something will be missing until they do.

As with most endings, this is in many ways just the beginning of a new and more challenging path. I still have many things to learn, bad habits and preconceptions to shed, and private discoveries to make. The difference is that from today, I’ll be doing it alongside the other members of Impro Melbourne, and I couldn’t hope for better company.

Tangents Encore Performance
Sunday, August 27 at 6PM
Don’t Tell Tom bar & café
420 Sydney Rd. Brunswick
$5 at the door

And what a final show it was! It’s not especially useful to dwell on your successes in improvisation, because the very next week could very easily see you crash and burn, but hey—we freakin’ rocked.

The final decision of who would play “the couple” wasn’t made until moments before we stepped on stage, but Leah Gabriel and I ended up the ones cast. Jenny (Leah) and Ted (me) were socially awkward types meeting at what turned out to be a “Desperate & Dateless” ball. The horror of making small talk about making small talk almost spelled their doom, as did an overabundance of caffeine in Ted’s system, but after bailing on the party to grab a decaf, the pair quickly discovered their common ground. The romance seemed set to blossom until the subject of Ted’s mother came up.

Jenny and Ted’s tale was intercut with many entertaining tangents provided by the rest of the cast. A just-turned-eighteen debutante (Jess) flung herself at the school jock (Dan), much to the dismay of her confidant (Andy). A troubled girl (Katherine) wrestled with increasingly insistent hallucinations of her playthings (Dan et al) speaking to her, leading to a final confrontation with Mr. Potato Head (Tess). A young boy (Danny) came face-to-face with his fear of animals when his mother (Katherine) took him shopping for pets. A palm reader (Andy) revealed to a client (Jess) that she was the spawn of Satan, and was forced to accompany her as she toyed with an innocent bystander (Danny). A checkout boy (Dan) confessed his longing for a checkout girl (Tess) and not even a price check for condoms could keep them from dancing the night away. And so much more…

After revealing (in heartfelt song, no less!) how his horrible mother had poisoned every one of his romances, Ted was ready to give up on a future with Jenny, when an offhand remark planted the seed of a plan: they could kill Ted’s mother! Thankfully, this disastrous course was averted by Jenny rushing to her flower shop, grabbing every bouquet in sight, and presenting them with Ted to her mother-in-law-to-be (Tess). The final scene, the mother-in-law’s speech at the wedding reception (“She almost couldn’t be here tonight…”), was deftly executed by Tess, who played to perfection the disgruntled-but-powerless old widow.

The lights came down and the applause came up and didn’t stop. Tangents as a form had proven itself, as had we as an ensemble. Thanks, Simon, for coming along to see us. As for the rest of you, sorry you missed it.

Although the show started last weekend, the first one I’m in is tonight, so I have selfishly waited until now to announce it.

Tangents is a show I helped develop over the past few months at Impro Melbourne, and it’s very exciting to finally get to show it to the masses.

Two strangers meet at a party and strike up a conversation. The show follows the swirling, weaving, and intersecting paths of that conversation, conjuring scenes out of the subtext to reveal what these strangers might really be thinking.

Come one, come all! I’m playing tonight and next Sunday.

Tangents
Sunday, July 2-30 at 6PM
Don’t Tell Tom bar & café
420 Sydney Rd. Brunswick
$5 at the door