Success #1

So my first success of being in LA is registering for a basic improv class at the Groundlings improv theater. As you may remember, this was my first audition. I wouldn't call it a competitive environment- basically, they got twelve people in a room together, and each of us did two scenes with each other, giving us a scenario.
My two scenarios were
- Being a figure skater in the locker room with another figure skater after a competition
- Being a roommate with another roommate cleaning up after a party.
Not too hard, right? It wasn't- nobody bombed.
They essentially explained that they were screening people to make sure they had the basic ability to stand up in front of people and not choke.

But here was my big discovery that day:

I'm EXACTLY the kind of person they tell you to watch out for at an audition. I hate myself at an audition. I turn into a sort of opposite werewolf-- on the outside I'm all smiles, an unusually friendly, at-ease presence in the room. On the inside, I will kill anyone who crosses me and give anything to watch someone fail.


Here is some insight into my vampire mind:
As soon as I got into the lobby, before I entered the lobby even, I entered an animal mode in which I scanned the area for any of the others who might be auditioning, sniffing around, trying to intuitively sense who the newcomers were, who was exuding any traces of fear or confusion.
I found the auditionees to stand out for various reasons-- there were the wanders, who paced up and down the lobby hallway, looking at pictures on the wall that they had undoubtedly been looking at for the past 15 minutes. They got here 45 minutes early for the audition. Too early. That early shows that you have nothing else to do but audition for the Groundlings. Come on, not even a day job? If you catch their eye, you can tell they're hungry for conversation, but it is absolutely essential to remain friendly but not too friendly. You might break your focus and forgot the most important nugget of truth: everyone here is your enemy.
There are some other auditionees that are easily identified because they sit, looking down at their resume or the empty 3-ring binder they brought purely to transport their resume. They are not thinking about their resume. They are thinking about their inadequacies. This is good. If they look at you, smile so they can think that you are much nicer than they are.
There are a few confident auditioners who want to talk, mostly to try and show off. They talk about funny television, or at the Groundlings, they talk about improv shows that they've seen and particularly off beat indy comedy films that will brand the watcher as particularly hip and knowledgable. These people are the ones that I especially want to demolish. I want to walk on stage and blow them to pieces with my ease of performance, with my timing, with my uncanny ability to create a character while simultaneously supporting my scene partner and lighting up the audience with laughter.

It is also easy to identify the auditionees because everyone is wearing a nametag.

I hate every one of these people as we meet the person running our audition, and I especially hate them as we cross the street and they smile at each other with false hopes of their own stardom. I especially hate the one who holds the door for me on our way into the audition room. She is in very good shape, and she is definitely showing off that she's "nice too."

I hate them while we do our warm up exercise, noting that I'm much more of a pro at walking like an old lady, or like a baseball coach. I'm much better at thinking in my head what these characters might think.

I'm much better at replying "here" when the auditioner calls my name-- everybody else tries to show off when they do it. I just say it with conviction. Come on, losers, man up.

And by the time we're ready to actually audition, I've written off everybody in the room-- that girl is too nice, I'm suspicious. The girl with the cool hair cut had to get a cool haircut cause her face looks dumb. The guy who made a joke did it becuase he's insecure. Everybody here thinks they're going to be famous. They don't know that I'M the one who's going to be famous.

Except when we start to audition, everyone is pretty good. Some people are decidedly better than me. And I give an okay audition, and then I go home.

The build-up is really the meat of the situation.

I was deciding between two improv theaters- Upright Citizen's Brigade (UCB) and The Groundlings-- word on the street is that UCB is a much more collaborative place, a place that's about learning improv as a group activity that's about supporting each other and building a community. It's more about the art of improv, whereas Groundlings is about learning to build a character and improv yourself as an improvisor- it's less group oriented and more egotistical.
You have to audition to get in and then you have to be passed through each class to the next-- as someone said to me once, "Groundlings is a cutthroat environment."

To be totally honest, that sealed the deal for me. I start classes in two weeks.

Until next time,
The bloodthirsty maniac,
Madeline