I have always wished that I was funnier than I was, for as much as I have amused myself sometimes, I have also wanted to be able to amuse others equally. Recently I have been reflecting particularly on this matter of humor as it relates to the theatre, having the opportunity to observe comedic improvisation in light of principles of acting. Through these considerations I have discovered three essential elements for this type of humor:
1. The Unexpected
The first element is a conclusion I reached long ago when my ponderings related to other matters, but I find this holds true for theatre as well. It is the surprises that make us laugh most. Whether that means a sudden imitation of some familiar thing, the use of a prop one had not known was there, an unanticipated change in intent, or anything else unexpected, we laugh at what we cannot see coming.
2. Conflict
This second comes directly from what makes good theatre and so applies also to improvisation. When we see conflict on stage we begin to relate more to the characters and invest ourselves in what is happening because we want to know whether they will get what they want even if we think it is funnier if they do not get it and instead are stopped by the hilarious antics of the antagonist. We want their commitment. This ensures the energy level remains high, which affects the pace, which in turn determines whether we get bored and allow our attention to wander. Hence it also includes the important aspect of timing.
3. The Instrument
This third might also be described as imitation, though it involves much more than that. This is the reason an actor must be comfortable with himself and his body so that he can use this instrument that is himself in order to evoke laughs. In watching the comedic improvisation show, I noticed the most humorous moments were when an actor effectively imitated some person or thing we could all recognize. Those were the actors I wanted to watch.
Conclusion
The first and third elements can easily be funny of themselves, but it is more difficult for the second one to be, though that is basically the principle behind slapstick humor. However, the union of these three elements is amazing. That is what we as an audience want to see. It is what brings our laughter almost to tears.
Post Script
I realize that it is infinitely easier to sit back in the critic's chair and comment upon a performance, far different than standing on stage oneself and being forced to think how to combine these three elements with scarcely two and a half seconds for the brain synapses to fire back and forth and create that moment of humor before the audience grows bored and lets its attention drift. Yet I am not a hardened critic. I only criticize so that I will be better prepared for that moment when I step on stage. Perhaps then I too can learn to be funny.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Thursday, August 9, 2012
An Actor's Discontent
"Unless
you marry God, as our nuns do in Ireland, you must marry Man -- that
is Me. The only third thing is to marry yourself -- yourself,
yourself, yourself -- the only companion that is never satisfied --
and never satisfactory."
Michael Moon
had it entirely right, I think. In particular, he understood very
well what it means to spend too much time with oneself, perhaps
because he was a man given to introspection, a very helpful thing
that--like a good many helpful things--can become quite the opposite
when taken too far.
I think Oscar
Wilde would also have agreed, at least judging from an entry in The
Devil's Dictionary: Alone, adj. In bad company.
In any case,
sometimes one tires so much of being with the unsatisfactory and
unsatisfied--and sometimes downright unpleasant--companion that is
oneself that he wishes for nothing but to be rid of him. No doubt he
would divorce him if he could. However, so far as I know, one cannot
yet do this, though I have read that it is possible to marry oneself
(which seems to me a matter of the greatest ludicrousness).
The next best
thing, naturally, is to be someone else.
Now this
thought may cause laughter, as if I were joking, but I assure any
lingering readers that I am quite serious. Perhaps I can ask you
this question: have you ever longed with an insatiable desire to be
someone else?
Now of course
there may be various reasons one wishes to be someone else. Envy for
instance is a very compelling reason--even if there is little reason
to its madness.
However, my
thought allies itself more firmly with another consideration: the
life of an actor. For, after all, that is just his business: to
spend his life being someone else. Of course the paradox of this is
that in some sense he is never more himself than when he is someone
else. As soon as he accepts the bounds of the character he is to
play, suddenly he becomes free to be whatever he will within that
framework, no longer imprisoned by his own thoughts and needs and
desires, nor by what he "should" do, and most of all no
longer shackled by that incapacitating consideration of what he wants
himself to be. This becoming of someone one else then is how he
learns who he truly is, or at the very least--if he will remain blind
to it--he reveals to others the depths of his soul.
I cannot help
but wonder whether that desire for acting--one might say even the
vocation to this great art--comes from that need to be someone other
than oneself. And that in turn raises another question: are we only
actors because of the restlessness of our nature and our discontent
with what we are--in short because we cannot bear to be ourselves?
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