Essay: Should You Improvise More with Your Vagina? (for the Women in Comedy Festival Blog)

An R-rated piece written for the Women in Comedy Festival Blog as a contributing writer.


“And I don’t mean that in a dick versus pussy way.” 

This is improv legend Joe Bill talking to me about two camps of improv. He was contrasting the testosterone-infused, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours style with the more Kumbaya emotional connection with scene partners, deep-like-a-womb, scenic improv style. In short, we were discussing the masculine-feminine polar extremes of improvising, but not necessary male and female improvisers.

Can improv technique be classified along a gender-stereotyped spectrum? It’s tempting to chalk up stylistic disparities as stemming from the physical differences of what parts we’ve got under the hood. Penises simply beg to be whipped out and flaunted. And they have the propensity - in my experience - of growing larger before your very eyes. Ta da! Who doesn’t love magic (as long as it’s not performed by David Blaine)? The penis, instant audience pleaser. Add to that the evolutionary need to spread one’s seed over many fields in a relatively short period of time, and you’ve got a metaphor for a certain style of improv: fast-paced, short term oriented, somewhat aggressive and competitive and instantly gratifying. Very fun to do in the moment, but sometimes leaves me feeling somehow empty inside afterwards. (Granted, I’m a dopey-eyed chick, so I guess that figures.)

The vagina, on the other hand, requires a more concentrated and immeasurable dedication in both its pleasure and its up-keep. By its very nature, a vagina is a long-term commitment. With time, focus, and refined skill, a vagina can yield many gifts, the greatest of course being the neat trick of creating life — more miracle than magic. Thus, we have the other end of this improv spectrum: a focus on emotion and relationship, a willingness to allow the scene to open up, reveal itself and develop (might I say, to blossom?), a relaxed pace, a deep exploration, and lots of eye contact.

But it’s important to resist classifying these two styles, in Joe Bill’s poetic words, as “dick versus pussy.” This is not about male improvisers and female improvisers. In fact, in my kinky opinion, I love to watch a woman who performs like she has a dick and to perform with a man who approaches the scene with his vagina. These delightful blends across the spectrum yield enchanting results on the stage. It’s not about which naughty bits you’re packing down below, it’s about which naughty bits you improvise with.

So I asked Joe Bill himself, a self-proclaimed wielder of an “improv vagina,” to read this piece and share his thoughts about the possibility of a masculine-feminine spectrum of improv styles. He generously responded: 

Here's the thing ... and by thing I mean, here's the hermaphrodite ... the masculine sensibility is goal-focused and the feminine sensibility is process-focused. The proposition as artists is, “Can we play with both or either, when called upon to improvise?” Yes, there is dickprov and there is pussyprov, but can we be in possession of both sensibilities, even when playing in the prevailing context?

Why bother? Dynamics ... to give yourself and your show the gift of diversity of declaration and possibility in any given moment. If there's a man and a woman and a hermaphrodite standing on stage, the person I want to know more about is the hermaphrodite. It's probably because with a man or woman I can think, "Go fuck yourself" and be done with them ... but with a hermaphrodite I can think that, and then immediately arrive at, "WOW, I hope this can happen!" [Dear hermaphrodites, this is a metaphor, I love you.] Isn't that Improv? Wouldn't it be great if we could all go fuck ourselves in either context, with theatrical skill and artistry, and deliver fearlessly on the proposition? My improv vagina will be over in the corner with Susan Messing's improv dick, reminiscing about that one awesome scene we did about a thousand times.

So there you have it, folks. Joe Bill gets the last word on the pussy-dick improv spectrum. Now go fuck yourself.

***


If you like improv comedy, you'll love "Geeking Out with..." 
the interview series about, by, and for hardcore improvisers.
(This series is not for pussies.)

Update: Guest Blog Post on The Third Beat

I was honored to be asked to write this guest blog post about my observations at this year's Del Close Marathon on Sharilyn Johnson's blog Third-Beat.com.

After clocking a mere 15+ hours at the Del Close Marathon last weekend, most of the shows are a big mush of improv squishiness in my sleep-deprived brain, but I’ll try to give you a run-down of what I saw.

This year, I decided to try a little change-up from my usual tactic of parking myself in the moist Petri dish of the Upright Citizen’s Brigade Theatre. After last year’s experience of waiting on line outside UCBT for over two hours and still not entering in time to see Improvised Shakespeare, I was leery of being improv-blocked again. Thankfully, the organizers seem to have done a much-appreciated pre-emptive strike by putting more big names and popular shows in the other theaters this year.

So I primarily put in my time at the Hudson Guild theater, where I never had to wait in any lines and there was always a seat. The only time the room was packed to a humid, virus-friendly capacity was on Sunday evening from about 5:30 on, when there was a slow-moving line and the no-reentry policy was put into effect.

Among all that improv, my personal highlight of the marathon was The Jamal, an all African-American collection of players from New York who I definitely will try to see again as a group or in their other incarnations as Nobody’s Token and Doppelganger. They were extremely skilled improvisers, and they offered a fresh outlook from the over-abundance of 25-year-old white boys. No offense, white boys, I love you all dearly, but it’s f*cked there aren’t more black improvisers out there. Improv theaters should do anything they can to make people of different races, cultural backgrounds, age demographics, and sexual orientation, etc. feel more encouraged to do improv. The whole improv world would be brought up by a greater diversity of performers.

Facebook at the 2011 Del Close Marathon. Photo by Pam Victor.

Getting off my bully pulpit, other great DCM 13 sets were the ones you would think would be great. John and Scott (Lutz and Adsit) at FIT on Friday night performed the set with the depth and admirable technique. Bassprov (with Lutz) at the Hudson Guild on Saturday made me fall in love with them all over again. UCB TourCo All-Stars at FIT on Saturday night were very fun to watch.

Climbing back onto my bully pulpit again for a moment, I am thankful there are performers like Shannon O’Neill. In my humble opinion, UCB needs to establish an environment that allows more women into the higher ranks, and not just the ballsy ones but also softer voices who will add flavor and subtlety to the show.

Regrettably, Friday’s Baby Wants Candy at FIT was disappointing, and I say that as someone who adores BWC. The show felt thin with four performers, and Peter Gwinn can only do so much. I miss Eliza Skinner and Rebecca Drysdale. Another performer I missed seeing was Paul Scheer, from whom I always learn a lot by watching. I wish Scheer-McBrayer would return to DCM, but I fear they both may have gotten too big to make space for the underpaid, under-appreciated improv world.

On that note, I was glad that Jason Mantzoukas made time in his busy working schedule for DCM. Although he had to fly back to LA before Mother and ASSSSCAT 3000, he added a definite charming adeptness to the Facebook show at FIT on Saturday night, a show that was another huge highlight of my weekend. Probably the most fun show of all the ones I saw. With a killer cast featuring Mantzoukas, Bobby Moynihan, Horatio Sanz, Owen Burke, Chad Carter, Chris Gethard, Jesse Falcon, John Gabrus, and Gavin Speiller, it looked like they were having as much fun as the audience…which was a lot.

More great shows were to be found at Hudson Guild on Sunday. The Writers Who Never Talk, featuring 30 Rock staffers, was hilarious, and I hope they don’t get fired for their Alec Baldwin impression. I’ll never look at chocolate-covered almonds served from a helmet in the same way again.

I saw a lot of great stuff coming from Chicago, naturally. Very strong, very adept. Probably the most interesting sets came from groups like Den Mother, The Katydids and Classy D out of iO.

So, that was a post-DCM geek-out from my objective observer status. Once I catch up on my sleep, I’ll be looking forward to next year.