Four contractors sit around a table. They have been hired to create a home together for a family with a new baby. They’ve known each other for years, and they’ve even worked together on several occasions. At the table they talk about the materials they’ll use for the house, the benefits of wood vs. Stone, and their preferred tools.
The next morning, one shows up at the construction site with a bucket of nails. Another comes with a light fixture. Another arrives with a “Welcome” mat. The fourth shows up with some comfortable bedding.
Are they successful in building the home? Probably not.
What does this have to do with improv?
I once asked four people on an improv team I was playing with how they defined “scene.” The answers I got were: “A scene has a beginning, middle and end,” “It has a who, what, and where,” “It’s about the relationship,” and, “I guess I’ve never thought about it.”
This group had been performing together for about two years at this point — doing dozens and dozens of scenes every week — and yet when asked the most fundamental question about the work — essentially “what do you set out to create when you get on stage?”, they gave four different answers. (See also the famous Parable of the Elephant)
This group isn’t alone. In fact, many improvisers of all experience levels do not have a clear definition of scene that works for them.
I had been improvising almost every week for seven years before it finally dawned on me to sit down and clearly define what a “Scene” actually was. None of the people I had ever worked with over the years had brought it up, either. Either I was being left out, or many improvisers just assumed that everyone understood what a scene was and never really bothered to hash it out.
But as improvisers, we live and breathe scenes. We watch, perform in, and analyze them. We talk about the details of scenes, the characters that inhabit them, and the choices that heightened, developed, or derailed them.
If we’re going to be spending so much time with scenes, shouldn’t we have a solid and consistent definition for “scene” as well? The four contractors had four different definitions for what “home” meant to them, and they had never talked about it. They couldn’t possibly succeed because they weren’t in agreement about what they were trying to do. After all, if we don’t have a clear idea of what we’re attempting to create, how can we say anything meaningful about it, let alone expect to produce good ones week after week?
Defining “Scene” as a tool make your improv simpler and more powerful.
I’d like to present a definition of “scene” that has worked for me as a performer, teacher and director: A scene is the exploration of one premise.
Let’s break it down.
One Premise (The hard part.)
The premise is the central theme, the essence of a scene. Because we’re improvising, we can’t decide what a scene is going to be about ahead of time. We can only really say what a scene was about when it is over.
If we start with a mother trying to convince her son to swim for the first time, and end with an argument about what color the living room curtains should be, the scene has probably lost focus and likely won’t have satisfied the performers or the audience.
One key ingredient of good improvisation is simplicity. Staying focused on one premise allows you to spend less time trying to figure out what’s going on, and more time having fun. But wait! If you stick with just one premise the whole time, how can you really have fun with that? Glad you asked.
Exploration (The fun part.)
Exploration implies discovery, fun, and a sense of mystery. Exploration is all about details; this is where we get the who, what, when, where and how.
A scene in which someone gets fired from a job can be explored in an endless number of ways: two cowboys get fired from a ranch and decide to go live in the mountains, or an astronaut gets fired on a space shuttle and must endure an awkward ride back to Earth. Those cowboys could also get fired in a space shuttle. Or maybe they’re thrilled to get fired. These are the details.
Exploration is where you, the improviser, play. It is where you express your personality and say and do things that you enjoy. In your improv career, you’ll likely do hundreds of scenes about someone getting fired. Why have them all take place in an office? (And why have them all begin with, “Johnson, I’ve called you in here today because your work lately has been sub-par…”)
Keeping Scenes Focused
Each move an improviser makes will either maintain a scene’s direction or change it. The direction can be maintained by heightening or committing to what already exists. It can be changed by shifting of conversation topics, abandoning physical or emotional choices, or introducing new elements into the scene.
The more a scenario changes, the harder it becomes for both the audience and the players to understand. Unfocused scenes are difficult to end in a satisfying way.
Focused scenes tend to unfold naturally and will often end in logical and satisfying (but still surprising) ways. Focused scenes can usually be summarized in one simple statement about the desires of the characters and how they relate to one another. This might be “I wanted you to go out with me but you shot me down,” or “I wanted to break up with you but we decided to give it another chance.”
When It’s Over, It’s Over
If the scene is about me wanting peace and quiet, that scene is over when I finally get it (or definitively do not get it). It doesn’t matter if it lasted 30 seconds or 30 minutes. Once the central issue of the scene is addressed in a conclusive way, the scene is over.
Many improvisers run into trouble by either failing to identify a central issue of their scene, or by addressing it too quickly (often through overly-literal Yes And-ing) and then continuing to play by manufacturing new activities or conflict – thus trying to fit many scenes into one.
Keep It Simple
The power of strong scenework is in its simplicity. Focus and explore one theme thoroughly. Make your scenes “an inch wide and a mile deep.”
Of course, we’re improvisers and this isn’t always possible. But it is something to strive for. If nothing else, having a common definition for “scene” (and other common improv vocabulary) will give your performance group a target – something to aim for as you continue to grow together.
