Truth in Comedy and Tragedy
I am currently taking an Improv 600, or 4P, or Ninth Circle or whatever in "improvised tragedy," which involved taking tragic, fucked up, upsetting, awkward circumstances, playing their games, and heightening the shit out of them.
I also write my own stuff for my own self. Jokes, routines, bits, that is, I guess. Stand up. I would like to do more monologues, and am working on a long-neglected show about my former career as a social worker. Talk about truth in tragedy. There's probably a wealth of it in my other careers, too.
There's different approaches, different levels of processing stuff. And believe me, I've been through some harrowing stuff in my time, and have seen some harrowing stuff in my time. Recently, my "stress index" has been superhigh too.
The improv tragedy, the "Black Sunday" stuff, as it were, is pretty intense. Don't want to pull the trigger in your Harold? You're pulling it here. The bodies pile up like mad, and come back to haunt you. It's gutsy, awesome scenework, and takes some mad skills (fortunately my classmates have mad skills....I feel like I'm running to catch up sometimes.) I did manage to get some good cringe on by doing what Billy once called "excellent retard work" with my retarded girlfrieind and my "normal" brother. Oh good times.
I've often talked about a "shit to bit" time ratio, too. It came up in an Armando class, I believe, in an indirect way, where I was emoting a little too raw. In improv, it clouded my judgment and my ability to listen to my scene partner. However, I've found that "getting mad" on stage sometimes before doing stand up gets me out of my head in a rather direct matter, as long as I have my material clear in my mind.
Moreover, "shit to bit" requires fiiltering. In our improv form, the filtering isn't on. It's balls out, kill the baby, shoot the hostages, slit the wrists. In standup, there's a settling in, a honing and polishing, a luxury of time and economy of words. i'd imagine a monologue can be a little more free in the verbiage. Verbiage, ha. I need to transcribe some certifiable rants of some situations that I was in that needed ranting about.
Less emotion, more art. My new motto. Shortening the formula of comedy =tragedy+time. Or as Ari pointed out, tragedy=comedy-time. I think.
To be specific, less living by emotion, more creation of some funny motherfucking shit.
But there is a resting period, kind of like bread dough needs to sit on the couter in order to snap back some and regain its strength. I remember someone once patting me on the hand and saying, "Oh, the divorce set." That's when I retreated back into the safety of courtroom humor. It was, as it were, a little too raw.
But the words need the vulnerability, too.
I think I'm now officially talking out of my ass.
Good night, folks. I'm tiring.
Golden Oldie Dirty Joke: (steal back from Will Zone. Hell, I stole it in the first place)
Whats the difference between oral and anal sex?
Oral sex makes your whole day but anal sex makes your hole weak.
Boo. Not too funny. Sometimes, some shit (no pun) just isn't all that funny, yet.
Not yet. Not right now.
Good night, IRC.
I am currently taking an Improv 600, or 4P, or Ninth Circle or whatever in "improvised tragedy," which involved taking tragic, fucked up, upsetting, awkward circumstances, playing their games, and heightening the shit out of them.
I also write my own stuff for my own self. Jokes, routines, bits, that is, I guess. Stand up. I would like to do more monologues, and am working on a long-neglected show about my former career as a social worker. Talk about truth in tragedy. There's probably a wealth of it in my other careers, too.
There's different approaches, different levels of processing stuff. And believe me, I've been through some harrowing stuff in my time, and have seen some harrowing stuff in my time. Recently, my "stress index" has been superhigh too.
The improv tragedy, the "Black Sunday" stuff, as it were, is pretty intense. Don't want to pull the trigger in your Harold? You're pulling it here. The bodies pile up like mad, and come back to haunt you. It's gutsy, awesome scenework, and takes some mad skills (fortunately my classmates have mad skills....I feel like I'm running to catch up sometimes.) I did manage to get some good cringe on by doing what Billy once called "excellent retard work" with my retarded girlfrieind and my "normal" brother. Oh good times.
I've often talked about a "shit to bit" time ratio, too. It came up in an Armando class, I believe, in an indirect way, where I was emoting a little too raw. In improv, it clouded my judgment and my ability to listen to my scene partner. However, I've found that "getting mad" on stage sometimes before doing stand up gets me out of my head in a rather direct matter, as long as I have my material clear in my mind.
Moreover, "shit to bit" requires fiiltering. In our improv form, the filtering isn't on. It's balls out, kill the baby, shoot the hostages, slit the wrists. In standup, there's a settling in, a honing and polishing, a luxury of time and economy of words. i'd imagine a monologue can be a little more free in the verbiage. Verbiage, ha. I need to transcribe some certifiable rants of some situations that I was in that needed ranting about.
Less emotion, more art. My new motto. Shortening the formula of comedy =tragedy+time. Or as Ari pointed out, tragedy=comedy-time. I think.
To be specific, less living by emotion, more creation of some funny motherfucking shit.
But there is a resting period, kind of like bread dough needs to sit on the couter in order to snap back some and regain its strength. I remember someone once patting me on the hand and saying, "Oh, the divorce set." That's when I retreated back into the safety of courtroom humor. It was, as it were, a little too raw.
But the words need the vulnerability, too.
I think I'm now officially talking out of my ass.
Good night, folks. I'm tiring.
Golden Oldie Dirty Joke: (steal back from Will Zone. Hell, I stole it in the first place)
Whats the difference between oral and anal sex?
Oral sex makes your whole day but anal sex makes your hole weak.
Boo. Not too funny. Sometimes, some shit (no pun) just isn't all that funny, yet.
Not yet. Not right now.
Good night, IRC.