Writing about improv is like concrete; it's hard.
After all, unlike the typical, static theater production which runs the same show for months on end, improv morphs. Every single freakin' night. It is one rascally, random son of a gun.
Luckily, Improv Asylum's new show, "Lies, Half Truths and the American Way," along with the bar in the theater lobby, work hard to make everything easy. They just expect your amusement, and $15 to $20, in return.
Embedded within the spaghetti-like streets of the North End, the Boston branch of the Improv Asylum has become a major player in the meager local improv game since its founding in 1998.
Locations in New York and Los Angeles are thriving as well while the group as a whole has gained considerable momentum in its brief existence, appearing in Maxim, of all places, in 2002, and becoming frequent guests at the prestigious Chicago Improv Festival.
Focusing on well-rehearsed sketches and short-form improv (a snappy, gimmick-based style akin to TV show "Whose Line is it Anyway?" as opposed to the character-and-plot emphasized style commonly known as long form), Improv Asylum capitalizes on pop culture and its performers' natural wit to produce the majority of its gags.
One of the troop's best sketches investigates the "motivations and inspirations" behind "Pieces of You," the ubiquitous faux-alternative song by Ashlee Simpson of the now festering Simpson Empire.
On stage at the Asylum was "Ashlee" singing into the mic while her assumed producer spoke via an intercom, continually giving her suggestions as to how to improve the quality of her sound.
Suggestions included, "Pretend someone woke you up at 4 a.m. to go jogging. Sing it like that!" and "Now, you're swimming underwater in Vietnam."
Perhaps the most insightful description was when the producer told her to sing like "English isn't your first language!"
After the bit, the lights went black and the real "Pieces of You" was filtered into the space. As a result of the sketch, Simpson seriously sounded like she was some overwrought, exhausted, and muffled immigrant who had been in this country for ten days, tops.
While a few sketches in the second act felt over-played and repetitive, overall the sketches were dead-on.
Highlights included a hypothetical scene with Martha Stewart and Saddam Hussein serenading one another in a jail cell of love, and a scene at an office where all the employees continually lapse into their childhood selves, throwing temper tantrums at age 40.
Integrated within the pre-written sketches was the main course, the improv scenes. In all honesty, they felt a bit dry and unfulfilled; imagine a choice chicken cutlet cooked thoroughly in the center, but its edges feeling raw and underdeveloped. Yeah, something like that.
The improv-ers solicited suggestions from the audience - a mix of young professional types as well as students and one giddy bride's party - in the usual manner. Some proposals ended up being quite creative. Or, at least tongue in cheek: after asking for suggestions of "What was the last thing you lied about," a voice called out, "The size of my pianist." Oh, the wit.
So, what was that nagging feeling of being slightly used but wanting more after the show's conclusion? It was a sense that Improv Asylum was playing it safe. The Improv-ers would have one bright idea, play it on stage, and, before developing the idea in the uncertain world that is the improv stage, they'd move on to another certain laugh. For this reason, while their chuckles bounced around the room like grade-schoolers on a sugar high, there were very few full body, help-I've-fallen-and-can't-get-up laughs.
It was a shame. These performers, all part of Improv Asylum's main stage troupe, played like loose cannons waiting to ignite, bundles of sizzling comedic energy teetering on the edge of realization.
But such great feats require equal risks. Good improv is a lot like skydiving; it's that leap of faith you make while unsure what's below.
The performers, while talented, were not willing to take those requisite risks. Instead, as if taking cues from a bad airplane safety video, they remained in their seats, in their safety zone, at all times.
