An Open Letter

*Writer's note: I wrote this article about three years ago - I had just saved it because it is a vitriolic, but I also needed content today. Though it is directed to one person, the point I believe is endemic to more than just this one instance.

Dear White Shirt Guy,

Hi there! I saw your improv show last Saturday night; I was the guy in the third row, center stage who wasn’t laughing (more on that later). It might help if I point out that I was sitting next to the two older couples who wouldn’t shut up and left fifteen minutes into your set. They may have had the right idea.

Now you may be asking yourself: “Why am I being targeted for this letter?” Well, there are a couple of reasons, the first of which is that you were one of the two hosts, and therefore I assume that you are in some semblance of in charge of the group. Additionally, you are undoubtedly the most handsome member of the team. Now, I may not be gay, but I do appreciate and respect handsome looking fellas. And you are definitely aware of this fact, as you fulfill the role of “handsome leading guy character” in every scene you’re in.

Allow me briefly to emphasize that last point. You see, what I really mean to say is: every single scene. I’m not sure if you’re aware of the fact, but you were in nearly every single scene. At first I sort of suspected it, like when you’re walking past a window and you think you see two people having sex out of the corner of your eye. But just like my two lesbian neighbors, I had to stop, and step back to see if my initial observation was correct. (It was, and they were. And boy were they going at it.) I started paying very close attention to you, and you were in every god damn scene.

I reckon you fancy yourself as the guy to beat in your troupe. You’ve probably been doing this for a couple of years, and in the tiny fishbowl that is the San Diego improv scene, you’re kind of a big fish (perhaps a halibut?). But I’ve seen this kind of thing before. You feel it’s your duty to make all the scenes funny, and by god, you’re the only man who can do it. Problem is, you’re not very funny, and you play the same character every time. Now, I don’t want to come off too harsh; after all, there wasn’t a single person I saw that entire night who was particularly funny, but I’m singling you out, because at least your problem can be fixed.

Improv is a team sport, man. There is no quarterback, no point guard, no Queen. Now, I’m a big proponent of people playing their group roles and group strengths (you’re the good-looking one, okay), but I have never seen a scene be saved and only rarely made funnier by the addition of another player. And trust me, I have tried. My friends have tried. I have seen the experiment played out in the laboratory of the stage over a dozen times, and it never works. If a scene isn’t going well, the best thing you can do is just edit it. If it is going well, then leave it the hell alone.

Very respectfully,
Dude in the third row, center