The company brings its triple comedy rendition to the London pub theatre scene, in a performance done in tandem with Noises From The Attic and Rose, Bud and Thorn groups. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this off the cuff interpretation manages to hook its audience instead.
“I’m a banana, I’m a banana. Peel the banana, peel the banana”. No, I was not suggesting anything dirty, I was just quoting Glenn Quagmire from Family Guy… Yeah, point taken. But as much as that suggestive emoji pops up (*smirk*) every time I hint anything remotely phallic (I wonder if Blanche Deveraux typed any of the auto-correct’s code – she’s very good with her fingers, after all), I promise you that, this time (well, just this first sentence, actually), I wasn’t quoting anything that could be hung as sexual… Yeah, I know – I’m sorry (ish… I’m really not). Seriously now, (though a bit of an oxymoron given today’s topic), the only purpose of that reference was bringing back to mind the basics of improv comedy. Because that’s what we’re coming to review this Friday: improv, improv, IMPROV! (It’s a great episode, okay?!).
Last night, the Avocado company laid its seeds on the Drayton Arms stage – I’m not sure that pun is going to land the way I intended… Presented as a three-piece rendition (the title didn’t leave much to the imagination), the show explores different ways of setting the genre in motion: from the traditional style of allowing audiences to provide the main elements of the narrative, to more experimental practices, like coming up with a completely ad-libbed rendition, with no more initial inputs apart from a random blocking choice during the opening.
Delivered by separate troupes, all groups excel in their rather impressive ability not only to resolve with speed and ease the dramatic requirements of every situation (some of them, even concocting a full play from scratch before the viewers’ eyes), but also (and especially) in their extraordinary skill to craft believable dialogue – which, aside from some nice punchlines (with some portrayals being way funnier than others), it exudes exceptional pacing and flow.
The problem, however, stems from its generally excessive separation from the audience. There’s just not enough interaction to make us realize the effort behind their expertise. They’re proving themselves by flaunting compelling performing abilities, and a comedy bone which occasionally can be uproarious, but the general vibe is that they are doing it more to themselves than they are doing it to its public. The reason why is simple: too many times, we can’t appreciate the difficulty and merit that their art implies, merely because we’re not allowed into it. We’re told that they are making it up on the spot, but unless you’re into taking anything that’s given to you (I knew it!), it’s hard to be wowed by something that’s only half-introduced to us. They are probably telling us the truth, and I trust they do (I guarantee cynicism has nothing to do with me – like you’re gonna buy it), but they don’t show it in the right way for us to grasp it and, ultimately, applaud it.
Regaling us with a nice bunch of chuckles, as well as a couple of good cackles (I’m loud and bitchy, so how did you expect I sound when I laugh?), Avocado Improv brings out charm, talent and creativity to their ever-changing creation, but still needs to find a more stable way to let its showmanship flourish. With all the necessary equipment already in their hands to develop what it could be an extremely memorable and, above all, entertaining piece, the only missing ingredient to boost its zest comes from that factor of unpredictability that just someone from outside the montage can bring along. It’s an enjoyable ride, but sometimes only a stranger can bring things to greater lengths.
Avocado Improv plays at London’s Drayton Arms Theatre until 6 July. Tickets are available on the following link.