My improv teacher gave me a note yesterday- try to emotionally commit to the moment. I tend to pull back and don't become emotionally invested in the scene. I took his note well, but I was also thinking "ah, sir, this is not exclusive to improv."
Emotions are hard. I don't like them; I don't like having them or dealing with them. I don't know if this is normal or not, but I was brought up with the conceit that what people called emotions were a result of something else, usually hormones. Any display of emotions, and by that I mean a hint of an expression indicating something other than complacency, was met with a swift kick and immediate quarantine to my room. Expressing things was not part of Melchert guidebook for growing up.
Emotionally stunted is one way to look at it, but I don't like to be that harsh when it comes to judging my childhood. We just weren't expressy people. Now, I have approximately two emotions- angry and really pissed. You can't build a scene around those two emotions, and it rarely makes sense to react to every single thing that way. Yesterday, I seemed pissed at everything, until I couldn't be mad anymore so I pulled away.
Improv: it's not just about comedy.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Cherry Blossom Follow Up
When I take pictures of cherry blossoms, they look like this:
The cherry blossom is the part of the photo in the middle that isn't lit at all, so you can barely see it. I wonder if my mom would like that picture.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Mystery Team: A Review
Mystery Team is available on Netflix Watch Instantly. It's a must see for die hard comedy fans, especially those with mild to severe Donald Glover and Aubrey Plaza envy. According to IMDb, it was only shown on one screen in August of 2009- so, a limited release. Watch the trailer here: Mystery Team Trailer
I really enjoyed the movie. It was funny all the way through. I watched it on my phone while riding a bus, so there is a chance I missed some of the finer points but I'm pretty good at paying attention, so I doubt it.
I've started the supporting paragraphs of this review several times, and they come out horribly. So, a list of what I liked about Mystery Men:
I really enjoyed the movie. It was funny all the way through. I watched it on my phone while riding a bus, so there is a chance I missed some of the finer points but I'm pretty good at paying attention, so I doubt it.
I've started the supporting paragraphs of this review several times, and they come out horribly. So, a list of what I liked about Mystery Men:
- I adore earnest characters.
- Their primary color bikes.
- A through line.
- Motivation.
- An inciting incident.
- He comes of age.
- A U-M shout out.
- Kevin Brown.
- Donald Glover's disguises.
- Good clean jokes.
- Awesome dirty jokes.
- The cinematography- the camera kept moving creating a great sense of fluidity and mystery!
Monday, March 28, 2011
Cherry Blossoms and Me
I maintain indifference towards cherry blossoms. Here is a picture:
Also, the definition of indifference:
ns, -dif-ruhns]
Also, the definition of indifference:
in·dif·fer·ence
[in-dif-er-uh
ns, -dif-ruhns] –noun
1.lack of interest or concern.
2.unimportance; little or no concern.
3.the quality or condition of being indifferent.
4.mediocre quality; mediocrity.
I don't love cherry blossoms. I don't hate cherry blossoms. I have a lack of interest or concern about them- I am indifferent to them. I won't go out of my way to avoid them, but I also won't go out of my way to see them. Most people who know me would not think to ask me questions about them; they know they would be met with a blank indifferent stare.
What I do have a deep hatred of is festivals and parades. There are few things I would over look my hatred of festivals for; I will not overlook my hatred of festivals for something I am indifferent about, at best. For example, my love of beer would help me overlook my disdain of festivals and I would attend a Beer or Octoberfest. However, I will not be going to the National Cherry Blossom Festival. The festival hatred matched with the cherry blossom indifference would just create a miserable time for me and the poor soul who went with me.
In stark contrast, my mother loves both cherry blossoms and festivals. This would be the perfect event for her. Since she lives hundred of miles away, however, she has sent me several requests asking every question she can think of about cherry blossoms, the festival, the weather, and requests for photos. I have no answers to her questions on top of the fact that I has thought my mother was one of those aforementioned people who knew me.
She wanted pictures of the cherry blossoms. She didn't say this part, but I assume she would want a picture with both me and the cherry blossom. This is just not going to happen. This would involve me going out of my way to a place I don't want to go with a camera I don't own and with people who also don't want to be there to take out of focus pictures. Seriously, Mom, there are pictures on the internet and they are much better than anything I could take. I could take a blurry picture with my phone of me giving a cherry blossom the finger.
It is the frustration with these incessant emails that have led others to believe I actually now hate cherry blossoms. I can understand where they're coming from based on the story but I maintain I am still indifferent; I am not going to the cherry blossom festival to take blurry cell phone photos of trees and flowers.
Friday, March 25, 2011
When Worlds Collide
Worlds colliding is overstating a bit, but here's what just happened: I was at my desk with my right ear bud in listening to music at a low volume. The music dipped out and a phone call was coming in. I looked at the phone and I didn't recognize the number. At first, I thought I should let it go to voicemail. Then I remembered: my outgoing message is my impression of a robot saying "You have reached the voicemail box of..." Oh god, I can't let people who don't know me hear that. So I answered the call.
The whole process made me feel ridiculous and of course brought up the reasons of having an outgoing message you don't want people to hear. Well, I do because I thought it was hilarious. When I got my new phone, the immense pressure of recording a new outgoing message got to me. I'm not kidding, I sat in front of the phone recording messages for an hour.
The old message was "You have reached Nancy's phone. Please leave a message." What I liked about it was that is was short and to the point. What I did not like is that every person who left a message started with "Hi Nancy's phone. I'm looking for Nancy..." or some variation thereof and they all thought they were so clever. But I had a serious mental block about saying "This is Nancy..." because it wasn't actually me. It was a recording of me. Then I would over explain and the brevity would be lost. As a side note, my sister's outgoing message is insufferably long- to the point that I don't want to leave her a message. Seriously:
"Hello. You have reached Queen Amadala's voicemail box. Unfortunately, I am unable to take your call at the present time, but if you would like to leave me a brief message with your name, contact information, and the best time to reach you, I would be happy to return your call. Thank you, and have a pleasant day." I fell asleep listening to it. Also, I think she hired wood nymphs to record it so it's overly enthusiastic and high pitched. I've stopped calling. (Also, she's not in PR or anything like that where an overly cheerful message is good business. There's no reason for her long, happy message.)
I digress. The point was, I wanted to avoid that, but I was also hung up on saying "this is Nancy" or "this is Nancy's phone." I tried many variations including "Nancy. Message." Mary suggested I imitate the automated message. After two takes, I was pretty sure I had it. She called my phone to check in and confirmed it was funny. As per yesterday's post, I always like to go for the joke, so I left it and there it remains.
I don't spend a lot of time thinking about my outgoing message. Shortly after I got the phone my mom asked me if I got a new phone because my message "sounded funny." Of course she didn't mean it made her laugh-funny, she meant weird-funny. Oh well. Only people I know call me, and those people know it's funny. Except for when people I don't know call, and I have to answer my phone.
The whole process made me feel ridiculous and of course brought up the reasons of having an outgoing message you don't want people to hear. Well, I do because I thought it was hilarious. When I got my new phone, the immense pressure of recording a new outgoing message got to me. I'm not kidding, I sat in front of the phone recording messages for an hour.
The old message was "You have reached Nancy's phone. Please leave a message." What I liked about it was that is was short and to the point. What I did not like is that every person who left a message started with "Hi Nancy's phone. I'm looking for Nancy..." or some variation thereof and they all thought they were so clever. But I had a serious mental block about saying "This is Nancy..." because it wasn't actually me. It was a recording of me. Then I would over explain and the brevity would be lost. As a side note, my sister's outgoing message is insufferably long- to the point that I don't want to leave her a message. Seriously:
"Hello. You have reached Queen Amadala's voicemail box. Unfortunately, I am unable to take your call at the present time, but if you would like to leave me a brief message with your name, contact information, and the best time to reach you, I would be happy to return your call. Thank you, and have a pleasant day." I fell asleep listening to it. Also, I think she hired wood nymphs to record it so it's overly enthusiastic and high pitched. I've stopped calling. (Also, she's not in PR or anything like that where an overly cheerful message is good business. There's no reason for her long, happy message.)
I digress. The point was, I wanted to avoid that, but I was also hung up on saying "this is Nancy" or "this is Nancy's phone." I tried many variations including "Nancy. Message." Mary suggested I imitate the automated message. After two takes, I was pretty sure I had it. She called my phone to check in and confirmed it was funny. As per yesterday's post, I always like to go for the joke, so I left it and there it remains.
I don't spend a lot of time thinking about my outgoing message. Shortly after I got the phone my mom asked me if I got a new phone because my message "sounded funny." Of course she didn't mean it made her laugh-funny, she meant weird-funny. Oh well. Only people I know call me, and those people know it's funny. Except for when people I don't know call, and I have to answer my phone.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Jokes That Aren't Worth It
Usually I say to always go for the joke. It's worth looking a little ridiculous if it's funny enough. However, there are a few exceptions.
1. When jokes cost money. Just like my friend's "I can't afford a $4000 joke" couch, sometimes jokes cost money, and spending that money is not worth the 30 seconds of laughter. There have been many a times when I wanted to purchase a book for someone as a joke. And not just a joke book, but a book that served as a joke. But then I think it through and realize I'd be spending $15 to $20 on a book, and then I'd have to wrap it, and wait for the person to open it. We'd have a good old laugh when they opened up, and then what?" First of all, I probably don't have another gift because I spent the alloted money on the joke. Second, now he has a book that just takes up room on his bookcase, and he has to explain to every person who sees it "Oh, it was a joke."
2. When jokes make you sound stupid. Sometimes I do this just for my own amusement. I ask the obvious, stupid question, because I think it's funny. When with people I know, they can see the look in my eye, and they don't answer. They let me have the moment. However, you can't pull this joke when you're not live or with people you don't know. Mary made this point just a few minutes ago when she wanted to tweet "It's funny Harry Houdini is trending. Did he just die?" Now, I know that's a pretty funny joke. But others might just assume she's a fucking idiot. She's not. It's not always worth making the joke when you have to spend the rest of the day defending it. Unless it's a really awesome joke.
Another joke related topic I was discussing with my friend Tootie was about overhearing other people's conversations. I was thinking about how often we overhear a snippet and roll our eyes at how dumb other people's conversations are. And then I worry about when they overhear my conversations. And I analyzed our particular brand of conversation, and how we often have flat out ironic conversations. An outsider wouldn't really know we don't actually feel that way about the topic. We aren't letting on with our words; instead we mean almost the exact opposite of what we're saying. We know it, but passers by wouldn't. Then I thought "what if I'm jumping to the conclusion that these other conversations are dumb too quickly. What if they're also having ironic conversations?" Tootie stared at me. "You don't think other people have ironic conversations?" No. She doesn't think other people have ironic conversations.
I'm not going to stop having them though, because to me, that joke is always worth it. Really, it's just the $4000 joke couch that might be out of reach. However, if I ever become really rich, then I will resume my belief that the joke is always worth it.
1. When jokes cost money. Just like my friend's "I can't afford a $4000 joke" couch, sometimes jokes cost money, and spending that money is not worth the 30 seconds of laughter. There have been many a times when I wanted to purchase a book for someone as a joke. And not just a joke book, but a book that served as a joke. But then I think it through and realize I'd be spending $15 to $20 on a book, and then I'd have to wrap it, and wait for the person to open it. We'd have a good old laugh when they opened up, and then what?" First of all, I probably don't have another gift because I spent the alloted money on the joke. Second, now he has a book that just takes up room on his bookcase, and he has to explain to every person who sees it "Oh, it was a joke."
2. When jokes make you sound stupid. Sometimes I do this just for my own amusement. I ask the obvious, stupid question, because I think it's funny. When with people I know, they can see the look in my eye, and they don't answer. They let me have the moment. However, you can't pull this joke when you're not live or with people you don't know. Mary made this point just a few minutes ago when she wanted to tweet "It's funny Harry Houdini is trending. Did he just die?" Now, I know that's a pretty funny joke. But others might just assume she's a fucking idiot. She's not. It's not always worth making the joke when you have to spend the rest of the day defending it. Unless it's a really awesome joke.
Another joke related topic I was discussing with my friend Tootie was about overhearing other people's conversations. I was thinking about how often we overhear a snippet and roll our eyes at how dumb other people's conversations are. And then I worry about when they overhear my conversations. And I analyzed our particular brand of conversation, and how we often have flat out ironic conversations. An outsider wouldn't really know we don't actually feel that way about the topic. We aren't letting on with our words; instead we mean almost the exact opposite of what we're saying. We know it, but passers by wouldn't. Then I thought "what if I'm jumping to the conclusion that these other conversations are dumb too quickly. What if they're also having ironic conversations?" Tootie stared at me. "You don't think other people have ironic conversations?" No. She doesn't think other people have ironic conversations.
I'm not going to stop having them though, because to me, that joke is always worth it. Really, it's just the $4000 joke couch that might be out of reach. However, if I ever become really rich, then I will resume my belief that the joke is always worth it.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
It Only Counts if Others See It
Sometimes I'm one of those douchehats who take up a puffy chair or a table for hours at Starbucks while writing. I don't do it often, but sometimes I need the change of pace and the pressure of sitting at a table with my computer can help my motivation. If I'm having a particularly "ooh, shiny things are everywhere" day, heading some where like Starbucks can help focus that energy. I don't know enough people in the area to be interrupted by people coming in and my fear of losing my seat and things being stolen keeps my ass in that chair. One of the best pieces of advice I received about being a writer is "the writer stays in the room."
The writer stays in the room, or in the coffee shop, ass in chair, in front of her computer, putting fingers to keys and words to page. It's not all brilliant and it needn't be. I try to write comedy, and it's not all funny. But sometimes I amaze even myself how I can pull one funny sentence from pages and pages of blubbering idiocy about an otherwise serious topic. Then I use that one funny sentence to build on. I imagine journaling is scoffed at in literary or professional writing circles and because of that, I would never let anyone read my journal. I bet most people do it though. They might not admit it, but come on, it's part of the process. If your process is to just put only perfect thoughts on the page, then eff you. And teach me how!
The part I don't like about others seeing me write is I feel a need to justify that what I'm doing is important. I was out of the house for several hours last night and when I returned my roommate nonchalantly confirmed that I was at Starbucks. Currently, my roommate is a subletter who is a social worker. She is subletting from my roommate who is an honest to goodness writer; he is in the process of writing a book with a publisher and the whole nine. Our walls are jam packed with books on foreign policy, politics, history, and the great things that plague the world and the human condition. These are people who are living for the greater good, or are at least conscious of it. When I walked in, my current subletter roommate had her computer open on her lap in the midst of work. She kindly asked what I was working on. I told her a sketch and then further explained sketch comedy. She had spent five hours at the hospital earlier that day with a client. I don't know what the client was at the hospital for but I bet it wasn't just to pick up some candy or because she loves how MRIs make her feel. Roommate then had to bring work home with her. I sat at Starbucks for 2 hours making lists of mythical creatures, parliament positions, and prostitute synonyms. By the way, I really hope the Zombie Libertine is a huge hit.
I have to remind myself of a few cliches every once in a while: to each their own, it takes all kinds, laughter is the best medicine. If I wanted to be a doctor, I would have gone to medical school. I don't, so I didn't. I want to be a comedy writer, so naturally I went to engineering college, nuclear power school, and film school. Now I just sit and wait for my brilliance to be discovered. Which brings me back to my first point- People can't see me writing when I'm inside my house. I need to be out in public with the other people. The only way for people to know I'm a writer is for them to see me writing. Usually at a Starbucks.
The writer stays in the room, or in the coffee shop, ass in chair, in front of her computer, putting fingers to keys and words to page. It's not all brilliant and it needn't be. I try to write comedy, and it's not all funny. But sometimes I amaze even myself how I can pull one funny sentence from pages and pages of blubbering idiocy about an otherwise serious topic. Then I use that one funny sentence to build on. I imagine journaling is scoffed at in literary or professional writing circles and because of that, I would never let anyone read my journal. I bet most people do it though. They might not admit it, but come on, it's part of the process. If your process is to just put only perfect thoughts on the page, then eff you. And teach me how!
The part I don't like about others seeing me write is I feel a need to justify that what I'm doing is important. I was out of the house for several hours last night and when I returned my roommate nonchalantly confirmed that I was at Starbucks. Currently, my roommate is a subletter who is a social worker. She is subletting from my roommate who is an honest to goodness writer; he is in the process of writing a book with a publisher and the whole nine. Our walls are jam packed with books on foreign policy, politics, history, and the great things that plague the world and the human condition. These are people who are living for the greater good, or are at least conscious of it. When I walked in, my current subletter roommate had her computer open on her lap in the midst of work. She kindly asked what I was working on. I told her a sketch and then further explained sketch comedy. She had spent five hours at the hospital earlier that day with a client. I don't know what the client was at the hospital for but I bet it wasn't just to pick up some candy or because she loves how MRIs make her feel. Roommate then had to bring work home with her. I sat at Starbucks for 2 hours making lists of mythical creatures, parliament positions, and prostitute synonyms. By the way, I really hope the Zombie Libertine is a huge hit.
I have to remind myself of a few cliches every once in a while: to each their own, it takes all kinds, laughter is the best medicine. If I wanted to be a doctor, I would have gone to medical school. I don't, so I didn't. I want to be a comedy writer, so naturally I went to engineering college, nuclear power school, and film school. Now I just sit and wait for my brilliance to be discovered. Which brings me back to my first point- People can't see me writing when I'm inside my house. I need to be out in public with the other people. The only way for people to know I'm a writer is for them to see me writing. Usually at a Starbucks.
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