That shit ain’t funny.

Monday, March 24, 2008 by John Robison.

Once again, wealth comes from the comments.

I happen to have been born into a family with a multitude of talents. Since I’ve begun directing shows, I’ve performed with almost everyone. I have two brothers and a sister, with me as the oldest. My next brother, Carl, has done tech for every show I’ve done for the past 10 years, from the time we had to cart around my iMac for sound and some portable lights to today, when he has his own lighting panel and laptop. He’s much happier nowadays, since he has his own little room.

My next brother, Brian, was in some of my shows just after high school, and now is content to be in the audience. That’s good. Audiences are important.

My mother has catered dinner theater shows I’ve had, and is now one of my biggest advocates, spreading the word about my fledgling theater to everyone she can, as she serves meals as a waitress with an attitude.

As I’ve mentioned before, my sister, Julie, is a member of the Roving Imps, and has been in shows with me since she was 10 years old, and she was the “cue card girl.”

My dad is the one member that doesn’t come around much anymore. He enjoys a good scripted play, but improv games are not his thing. When I first told him I was opening a theater, and that we would be doing a lot of improv, he didn’t know exactly what that was. I turned on “Whose Line is it Anyway?,” and he nodded. He said, “Yeah. I’ve seen that before. That shit ain’t funny.” Nothing you can do about that. If you don’t like Colin Mochrie, there’s nothing that can be done to salvage the genre for you.

Even my wife has gotten in on the action. Though she was initially afraid of improv, she took some of my classes, and worked up the nerve to perform a few times. She’s on a hiatus now, but we both have hopes that she’ll get back to the stage someday… probably when our son develops the ability to sit through a show.

I’m very lucky to have them all on my side. Even Dad the Improv Hater pitched in money to help me get started. Everyone else helps me on a weekly basis.

The only time any of this becomes uncomfortable is on stage. I’m going to blame Julie for this one. As improvisers, you’re in all kinds of different scenes, playing all kinds of different parts. It’s inevitable that eventually you’re going to end up playing the significant other of everyone in your troupe… even your own sister. When this happens, there’s always this little guy somewhere in the back of my mind that curls up into the fetal position and puts his fists to his temples as he whimpers, “no…. no… no…. no….” However, I do my best to ignore that little man and play the scene as it should be… and so far there has been no good reason for those two characters to have any intimate physical contact. Thank God. That little man in the back of my mind would have something to say about that, as would the audience, most of whom are well aware of who the actors are.

It would be like watching Donnie and Marie together, or John and Joan Cusack, 0r Bill and Hillary Clinton. You know… just uncomfortable for everyone involved.

It hasn’t always been easy. During that same game of Stunt Double I spoke of last week, our lovely fellow improviser told Julie, “We should totally make out,” and then called “Stunt Double,” completely forgetting who the stunt double was… yours truly. There were about 15 very uncomfortable (and hilarious) moments on stage where Julie and I kind of looked at each other, at the audience, and all around, and then all of Julie’s improv experience coagulated into a moment of genius… she also called “Stunt Double,” and I was able to make out with myself, giving myself several audience-satisfying gropes before relinquishing the stage.

I enjoy sharing a stage with Julie, and I’m fairly confident that even if the situation demands something we’re uncomfortable with, we’ll be able to sidestep it, using the schtick of the game, the wonder of a well-placed lights out from our brother, or through the grace and understanding of our audience.

I have a psychiatrist’s number standing by just in case.

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