The high school improv team I used to coach traveled to Chicago every spring to watch and learn from the best improvisers I know.
One night at iO Chicago‘s long-running Armando show, we ran into TJ Jagodowski, arguably one of the best improvisers on the planet, TV and movie actor, and Sonic guy.
I said hi to him at the bar, and two of my kids ran over to ask for a photo with him. Just as I got ready to take it, the lights for the show went down. We went back to our seats and he jumped on stage.
After the show, he checked in to see if they still wanted a photo. Of course they did—but we were due to jump on a bus from Wrigleyville to our hotel. (As someone who’d waited for hours at crowded Chicago bus stops with a dozen high school kids in the middle of the night, I was appropriately cautious.)
He looked at the kids, shouted, “Follow me!” and ran down North Clark Street to the CTA stop to get a picture with Exit 1-6, a high school group from Liberty, Missouri.
(I will never not be mad at the catastrophic pre-iCloud hard-drive failure that ate those photos.)
I have at least a dozen other anecdotes like that about Jason Sudeikis, Rachel Dratch, Jack McBrayer, Paul F. Tompkins and folks who are really big deals in the improv comedy community.
Being nice doesn’t make sense to everybody.
I once had a long Facebook message exchange about letting a relatively new improviser into a KC Improv Festival class offered for people with 5 years experience or more.
I explained that I had an obligation to other students to stay true to the class description.
And that more seasoned improvisers in Kansas City craved this rare chance to play and learn with performer with similar experience.
And that it’s not about how many times a week you rehearse or how dedicate you are—some kinds of learning take time.
After lots of back and forth, they asked, “Do you really think I’m that green?”
Well, yeah. This conversation kinda proved it.
They told me they had the impression it was important to be kind of an asshole or they’d get taken advantage of.
I probably told the TJ story, along with saying I sincerely admired their talent and commitment to the craft.
I thought it was resolved until another series of messages from a friend of theirs trying to bully me into making an exception.
(This approach is way more heartbreaking than frustrating…especially when it probably comes from experiences that make people to build up their defenses.)
“You might reach an asshole phase at two-and-a-half to three years in,
in which all the old-oes are hopelessly outdated
and only you understand how improv works.
This will seem funny later.”
3am Improv Thoughts by Jill Bernard
Nice behavior is a teachable skill.
If you’re not an improviser, you might be surprised to learn that improv has a lot of rules. “Yes, and” is the most familiar.
Different theaters and training centers have different takes, from “Make your scene partner look good” (The Second City, iO, UCB, and many others) to “Take care of yourself first” (Annoyance) and a million tips about what to say and do to make people laugh.
Underneath all that, though, is learning to be the kind of person other performers want to play with.
In my experience, the most successful improvisers are the most:
- OPEN-HEARTED
- GENEROUS
- PRESENT
- PLAYFUL
And it’s not just about comedy.
Think about your favorite folks to collaborate with in different parts of your life: volunteer groups, class assignments, corporate innovation teams, church committees, sports leagues. Remember your best meetings, brainstorms, projects, and practices.
How many of those words apply to them?
Every single one of those qualities can be learned and strengthened. More on that to come.
TRISH BERRONG 
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