The Highest Truth On Stage

The Highest Truth on Stage can be demonstrated through this example: Jean comes out on stage to deliver her kick ass opening line and on her way, she accidentally kicks somebody's water bottle. The bottle, not part of the scene, skitters across the stage. Jean ignores it and presses on, delivering her hilarious first line. Donk, her scene partner, ignores the bottle as well and responds to Jean's awesome first line with something equally brilliant he just thought up (probably something about Facebook). The scene is underway. The audience has forgotten about the water bottle. It's as if they didn't even see it.

Audiences will forgive a lot. They have to if they're going to enjoy improv. Mispronunciations, brain farts, misfired stage moves, the audience only pays attention to what the improvisor shows them and quickly forget things that don't fit. Often, improvisors cover their (and each other's) "mistakes" by ignoring them (the improv stage being very much not like life in that sense). But when we do this, we deny ourselves the opportunity to explore the Highest Truth On Stage.

Had Donk, before Jean could even get her line out, screamed "My water bottle!" the audience would have picked up immediately that Jean had "made a mistake" and Donk had not only noticed as well but is now calling attention to it. We the audience know this is a higher form of improvisation because Donk is reacting to something real, in the moment, live, in front of us. It's more immediate than the line Jean thought up two seconds ago standing offstage waiting to enter. If Jean is thrown by this move, plays it off, and shoehorns her original idea into the scene, then she's playing a lower form of ball. It's deeper than "She's denying Donk's gift! Poor Donk!" She's denying herself (and us) the opportunity to truly improvise in the moment. Savage, relentless improvisors love this sort of situation. They know that the skittering water bottle, at that moment, is much more truthful than any line they could come up with and can be the launching pad for a much better, truth-based scene.

So the question is: Why not go with (as the extraordinary Allison Bills suggested) "whatever's up at the moment?"

It's not about calling out every little tic and misstep you see on stage. That can quickly become tiresome. But having an emotional response to something everybody sees is truly playing the moment.

Make it personal. Make it important.