Improv is Contradictory

No, not the relationships within it. The actual art itself.

What do I mean when I say “improv is contradictory”? I mean it’s oxymoronic. I mean it’s oppositional (again, not between the characters in the scene). I mean there is RIGHT and there is WRONG and there is no RIGHT and there is no WRONG. I mean there are rules and the rules conflict with the rules.

I mean that context decides what we should be doing, but we make grandiose concrete statements without that context.

Casey Grambo uses the phrase “tools, not rules”; I think this is a good way to think about anything, but I think teachers tend to forget to point this out in exchange for making a quick rule. (Yes, I do think it’s worthwhile to put an asterisk on every rule and say this is a general suggestion and not a firm rule.¹)

Like What Contradictions?

Well, for example, improv often priorities clarity. We are looking for clarity. We want to understand your idea and what you’re doing.

But don’t talk about what you’re doing with that imaginary object! Don’t talk about it. No one talks about what they’re doing as they do it in real life².

One offers clarity for unexperienced improvisors - “I’m milking the cow,” you say, a phrase rarely heard in real life but immediately gives us a setting and what your object work is.

One offers a more grounded, more in-depth picture for more experienced improvisors - “Hot day,” you say, milking the cow on the farm with the belief that someone else will be patient enough to be clear in a natural way later, and adding some exhaustion as you occasionally wipe sweat off your brow.

Which is right?

Well, both are, I guess. But one offers clarity and one offers depth, and those things are often on opposite ends of a see-saw. Craig Cackowski says “if the scene is clear, add density; if the scene is dense, add clarity.” I’m using the word depth rather than density, but I think it’s the same idea.

Another ‘rule’ is don’t ask questions. We don’t want to pressure our scene partner to come up with all the answers!

Unless we’re trying to frame the game, then ask a question. Or add information within our question, in which case ask a question. Or unless you’re trying to signal to your partner to slow down because they’re inventing things wildly at a rapid pace, in which case a question can beg them to slow down, then ask a question. But don’t ask questions.

Improv is inherently a series of oppositions. Every rule has an exception. Every rule isn’t a rule. Every rule is a tool,

It is to the point where words don’t mean the same thing at the same theaters: a tag out at UCB is literally tagging, at Sea Tea it’s a clap. The Harold at UCB is tight and rigid in structure, 3 individual scenes with 3 heightened beats with strict placement on group games in between; The Harold at iO means “longform improv” and the structure you get from that should be based on what your thematic idea is, not heightened beats and rigidity.

The point of the show is to make the audience laugh. Unless the point of the show is to do good improv, because sometimes laughs undercut good improv. Unless the point of the show is the theme, in which case the point of the show is the theme. But it’s live comedy, so the point is laughter. Unless it’s live theater, in which case the point is theater.

Improv is not a competition. But please bring your friends to the Cage Match where only the Winner survives. Please audition to join a Team, and get a Coach, so you too can Win.

And so on, and so forth, in perpetuity, until one day your head explodes because nothing is anything and everything is nothing and IMPROV IS OPPOSITIONAL AND CONTRADICTORY TO ITSELF.

So What’s the Contextual Part?

Generally speaking, which mode of thinking is hyper-context dependent, often based on your form, your scene partner (and their experience/your comfort level with them), and to perhaps the largest extent, your taste.

UCB teaches that characters shouldn’t grow, learn, or change how they feel in a scene. Game-centric thinking: these characters repeat their behaviors ad nauseum until they cease to exist. A character wants to go first? That character always wants to go first, regardless of whether the activity is good or bad. That’s their thing, they want to go first!

Second City and iO teach theater to have a turn. What’s a turn? That’s where characters change how they feel and their behavior based on an emotional event in sequence. This is the theater part of improvised theater. A character wants to go first? That character always wants to go first, regardless of whether the activity is good or bad. Until they meet someone they want to go second for, and ooo, now the scene has depth to it and we automatically have three beats in the scene (beat 1, original feeling; beat 2, the turn; beat 3, the resolution).

Go ahead and try to pull of a turn in most UCB and UCB-style, game-centric scenes, and people are going to think you’re a terrible improvisor. (Ask me how I’d know? Trust me! I do it all the time, wakka wakka!)

Should you label your object work or should you offer more depth? Does it depend on your scene partner, your experience level, the clarity of your object work, what the object is? It’s all up to you. It’s all dependent on what you think is right in the context of your moment.

“We need to know why the scene is today. Today is the day that ___ happens.”
Unless it’s a slice of life scene, in which case we’re just happy to see these characters and they’re interesting characters and that’s enough.

Unless it’s a narrative, then you need a Why-Today to propel your narrative forward. Unless it’s an average day narrative or a glimpse into character’s depths or the philosophy and thematic meaning is the entire point, which there are many written examples of.

There’s a thousand examples of this. I’m sure there’s an improv rule you dislike or that rubs against you because that’s not the way you want to play and context lets you play another way.

So What’s The Right Thing to Do?

Probably the thing for growth is to play against your natural instinct and try the other way. Learn the thing of which you dislike. If you’re always labeling your objects - stop. If you’re always initiating - only respond for a while. If you’re always going for emotional depth and turns - focus on game. If you’re always doing game - try a deeper feeling.

Ultimately, I think the point I’m making is to receive every note, but behind every note is missing specificity and a glimpse into someone’s mind who isn’t your own. Is the real note “don’t label your object work” or is it “this one time object work was clear enough and you didn’t need to label it”? Was the real note “talk more like a human” or was it “this one time we all think you could’ve said that in a more human way but thanks for the clarity”? Was the note “only repeat your characters behavior” or is the note “this teacher/class/scene/group/form/etc. mandates that we are only getting a very shallow glimpse into the character and just stick to game stuff in this context”?

I don’t think any note should be disregarded and I don’t think any rule is unimportant.

I think every rule is actually a tool, and the real effort is in figuring out why that note came at this time and not buying this note applies every time.

Easier said than done, folks.

Parting Shots

— Substack has seemingly gotten rid of the round buttons I used to use here. Wtf substack. M dashes for weird lists in parting shots it is.

— Didn’t get even a callback for auditions this year. Feels weird to be stuck in a limbo, where if you take classes you’re playing with less experienced people and it’s not necessarily helping you improve the way you want to improve, but you’re not enough to get the chances you need to improve the way you want to improve. The Malcolm Gladwell Outliers thing: those in the right spot at the right time grow faster, the others get left behind. So it goes.

— As such, I think I’m going to do an intensive at some point. My new job starts on Monday, and I have three weeks vacation that is not forced to be the last week of July and first week of August like my last job, so I very well may pool them up and then do iO in Chicago or UCB in LA in the fall or something. I don’t know.

— UCB offers shows streaming, but I think most UCB style improv shows are high floor low ceiling and not that entertaining to me personally. But the Chicago theaters that produced the improvisors I love don’t offer streaming. How the hell’s a guy supposed to find what he loves in 2026?

Something I often think about is how the most widely known produced longform improv is Middleditch & Schwartz on Netflix, but since no one wants to work with Middleditch since as it turns out he’s sort of a huge piece of shit, it seems like there’s a total void of longform improv content outside of Dropout. One would think one of the other streamers would look at Dropout’s success and say “gee, we can get a piece of that with a miniscule financial investment.” But I’m not a Hollywood exec, what do I know?

1. There are exceptions to this; obviously some rules are rules and not general suggestions. The previous sentence is a general suggestion and not a firm rule.

2. People often talk about what they’re doing as they do it in real life.