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The Improv Olympic
-By Alicia Denney
The suggestion is cigars. Suddenly,
11 Edward T. Robinsons crowd the stage, one trying desperately
to upstage the other with their best "Yeah, seeeees" and "Jimm-ays."
After a few rounds of this, they loose interest in Bogart, so
one develops a smoker's cough. Immediately, the whole group follows
suit and soon, when the group's coughing fit becomes almost deadly,
one member stamps out the would-be cigar with such conviction
that the rest of the group begins a series of cigar-stomping arabesques
and pirouettes. These turn into a high-jump competition, which
turn into skydiving jumps, and so on.
Is it the A.D.D. class' night out?
Not quite. A late night session of Freudian free association?
Well, sort of.
It's the Jam at the Improv Olympic,
a weekly debauchery of improvisation games at the club located
at 3541 North Clark Street, in the heart of Chicago's Wrigleyville
neighborhood.
Though the Jam starts at midnight
on Sunday, amateur and professional improv artists line Clark
Street long before to get in on the Jam, one of The Improv's free
shows. With good reason, as the participants get to share the
stage with some of the world's most talented improvists, and act
on the same stage on which comedian greats like Chris Farley,
Mike Meyers, and Tim Meadows got their start.
"It's great to see people who have
never done this before get on stage and get just as many cheers
and laughs as the pros," says Charna Halpern, founder and owner
of The Improv Olympic, which just celebrated it's 20th anniversary
in August.
As stated during the host's intro
before he lets the crowd loose for The Jam, there is an unofficial
two drink minimum during the show because, "the more you drink,
the funnier we become. If you are underage, your inability to
drink at The Jam is directly correlated to your inability to procure
a decent fake I.D."
Illegality jokes aside, improvisation
is a serious business at the Improv Olympic, one that members
of the group hope will spread into the mainstream just as other
forms of comedy have.
Rush Howell, director and host
of The Jam, describes longform improv (the type that the Improv
Olympic became famous for) as a "hidden gem," that he wishes that
he could share with a wider audience.
Longform improv is different than
the types of games played on shows like "Whose Line Is It Anyway?"
because rather than using suggestions to craft short pieces, longform
improvisation will take one suggestion and work with it for much
longer-often more than an hour.
"Now, describing longform to most
people is like trying to find fellow fans of some obscure division
of punk rock," he says. "One in a thousand people know what you're
talking about, but when you find each other, it's an instant connection."
And the connections are strong,
as just in the past year, five couples have met, engaged or married
after meeting at the Improv Olympic, a testimonial to the degree
improv can infiltrate every aspect of a performer's life.
Christina Gausas, Howell's girlfriend
and co-performer at The Improv explains, "It's like one big lovefest
here. Doing the Jam and other shows breeds love and support for
one another. It only makes sense that romances will follow."
But love isn't the only force pumping
adrenaline through the bodies of the performers and improv amateurs
at the Improv Olympic.
For many, the rush of being on
stage is second to none, and the Jam allows anyone the opportunity
to feel the thrill of having the attention of hundreds of eyes.
"The scene takes you over and you
feel possessed. You become so connected to your scene partner
and 'the moment'," Gausas says. "There's no parallel, no comparison,
nothing like it."
Howell, who has been in the business
since his college years at Princeton admits that with experience,
stage fearlessness doesn't always follow.
"No matter how many shows I have
done, I always get nervous," he says.
"But when you are on stage, you
do something well, and then you don't even realize until you're
well off of the stage and then you think to yourself, 'Hey! That
was good!'" Gausas says.
Though there tends to be a select,
repeat audience at The Jam on Saturday nights, newcomers are always
openly welcome-even preferred-over veterans.
"Some people just become so addicted
to improv that they line up much earlier than others. They get
the good seats, and are the first to jump up for every game, which
is intimidating to some," Howell says.
If you show a natural talent or
penchant for improv, Charna Halpern may scout you at a Jam and
offer a scholarship for the classes run by the Improv Olympic.
If not, you still get a warm round
of applause and a bit of gratuitous laughter that sends you back
to your seat confident that the audience was laughing with you
and not at you.
"It's just a drunk, rowdy party
full of supportive, caring people," Halpern says. That's how it
has always been, and that's how I hope it will always be."
Improv Olympic is located at 3541
North Clark Street across from Wrigley Field. Shows range in price
from free to $10, and there are shows seven days a week. The Jam
begins at midnight Saturday, and priority seating is given to
those who attend the 10:30 p.m. show. Call (773) 880-0199 for
detailed show information.
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