11.20.09

OK-
So, last Sunday we did a show in Chicago at 9:30PM, even though we had an 8:00PM show in South Minneapolis on Monday night!(how’s that for dedication to the art form, you wiener?).
I had to work my awesome new-ish day job until 9:00PM Saturday, so I was just going to catch the overnight MegaBus, but instead I splurged, treated myself, and spent the extra $39 (per Eric’s lovely suggestion) and took the Amtrak.
Other than subways, monorails, and el’s in cities here and there (by the way, the Helsingin Metro (or this) wins the prize for both ”subway I would most want to have emergency surgery on while riding,” and ”best public bat sculputre” sorry, Congress Avenue in Austin, TX, but you gotta see the sculpture at the Ruoholahti Station underpass) and a 90 minute ride Upstate from NYC to visit a relative when I was 12, I have never taken a train ride of any length before.
I guess I kind of expected it to be like this, (by the way, if you want to wash yourself in snow, or just can’t wait to shovel, take the train elsewhere) this, this, this, or this.

Sadly and luckily it was like none of those.
The first leg of the trip is absurdly gorgeous, from St. Paul, MN to La Crosse , WI along the river. Sometimes, only a few scant feet above the river at very wide points with numerous birds.
I was sitting behind a Franciscan monk, and somewhere near Tomah, WI some Mennonites or Amish got on (I can never tell the difference unless they are driving). It was at that point I texted some friends claiming to be stuck “between the 13th&19th centuries”.
I woke up from a 45 minute nap and got to hear the monk talking with another passenger about the poverty in Detroit. This monk also keeps bees.
Later I got to follow the AmishOrMennonites into the lounge car and eavesdrop on their conversation in Wisconsin German.
As I stepped out to stretch my legs in Milwaukee, the monk left the train. He looked like the love child of Alec Guinness in “Star Wars,” and Burl Ives in “Cat On a Hot Tin Roof”. Plus, he put on his hooded cloak.
Upsides of being a monk: 1) God likes you. 2) You get to look like a Jedi, without the nerd factor.
Downsides of being a monk: 1) Everything else…
Then I arrived in the “Hog Butcher for the World” and Eric and Hannah met me here (and I know that it was stolen from Eisenstein, but I guess DePalma was the best we could do in Regan’s America)
Then we left and did a show in Minneapolis a few hours later
 
Improv=Shiva
 
wow

11.05.09

Nostalgia is one hell of a drug.

I have been putting together an I Pod playlist called “High School”, and have been trying to remember all of the albums that were important to me during those 4 years.
By the way, I am listening to it as I am typing this.

Why did I think that the world would be clearer to me when I was older?
Naïveté, I suppose.
But I am sure I will understand the world better next year.

So, on my bus ride home from St. Paul to So. Mpls tonight the digital display on the bus said:
8:17AM
1/1/98
And I thought: “If I could pull the cord and get off at that time and place, would I?”
Obviously, the answer was a resounding “Yes!”

Regret is the needle . . .
Nostalgia is the drug . . .

I assume I have more regret than most
But wisdom is intelligence+hindsight

So many regrets

Also this morning I woke up wishing I could step into another’s skin for 24 hours. I am not the first to have this thought. But it started innocuously enough – “what if I could have an insanely thick mustache for 24 hours” and spun into the obvious categories from there.

So many regrets

So much I would do differently

I would learn how to be funnier
And more aggressive
And bolder
And kinder
And friendlier
But probably not
I’d probably just watch a lot of funny 90’s tv!
News Radio & Larry Sanders reruns
If I watch enough of them, Jeanine Garofolo will want to make out with me…
That would be awesome!

Regret is the needle... Nostalgia is the drug . . .

10.18.09

“Splendid Things is Awesome!!!

Why?

Because of our Awesomeness!!!”

Needless to say, self-promotion has never been my forte, I’m much better at silence and self-deprecation. This is why publicity sucks. I have been trying to write a little something about who we are and why we’re good and why people (specifically college students) should come see our show.

“Because we are awesome!!!”

Christ…

I feel like a terrier trying to perform neurosurgery.

I like that image.

Tiny blue mask, scrubs with a hole for the tail, a nurse reflexively going in to wipe the surgeon’s forehead then feeling like an idiot because dogs don’t sweat.

Did dinosaurs sweat? Probably not, because reptiles and birds don’t. I don’t think. I mean I’ve never seen a sweaty bird, but I can’t say that I was looking.

Horses sweat. Pigs don’t – that’s what the mud is about.

OK, hold on…

According to a 2005 article by Francis Edathrakary of Bharata Mata College, and Deepu Mathew of Defence Research and Development Organisation (sic) in “The Hindu,” most mammals have sweat glands, though some have too few to be effective as a means of temperature regulation, so they pant, wallow, or lick their fur so it can cool in the wind. Also, dig this: “In cats, rats and mice (sweat glands) are confined to the soles of the feet. In rabbits, they are around the lips; in bats on the sides of the head; in cattle on the muzzle; in hippo on the pinnae. Hippos and giant kangaroos have red sweat. Birds resort to panting, losing water from air sacs” (ibid).

So, to sum up, 1) I guess I haven’t seen a sweaty bird, 2) rabbits have sweaty lips, and 3) if Dr. Mathew’s place of employment is any indication, somehow this information may be of value to the Armed Forces of the Republic of India.

Dear Pakistan, if your nation’s bats begin sweating from somewhere other than the sides of their heads, I know who you should contact.

“We are Awesome!!!”

09.21.09

I would like to thank Eric and Hannah for their patience with me as a travel companion in Austin. I am one of those people who travels on his stomach (like a snake?). My week in Helsinki: those amazing meatballs in the brandy cream sauce. Savannah: lunch at Mrs. Wilkes. New York: duck & noodles. Etc.
They witnessed the shivering excitement of me about to eat something delicious in a strange city.
I wanted Tex Mex and Texas BBQ. Both were achieved, and deliciously so.
Also, thanks to them for letting me watch them crazy bats.
Everybody in Austin was great and gracious and we hope to go back soon.

Also, obviously, OUR WEEKLY SHOW has started up again. The first week was great, and thanks to Five Man Job for making it happen.
Should you need a reminder, we are every week, Mondays at 8PM at the Bryant Lake Bowl. Check out the BLB’s website, and our facebook page for more info.

XXOO,
-mr

08.17.09

Last night the improvisational comedy troupe “Splendid Things” performed a twenty-minute set at the weekly Minneapolis laugh-tacular, “Improv a Go Go”. Joyous merriment ensued as the three, cap-and-bell-less, latter-day court jesters performed entertainments extempore. Hannah Kuhlman, the jolly band’s lovely performatrix, offered one witty bon mot after another, like so many pieces of confectionary. “Oh, Lord Haversham, this is a deliriously delicate doily,” alliterated Kuhlmann (American born, but of Teutonic ancestry) to the delight of all in attendance.
Sadly, the three were found dead this morning, after having surfeited on an intravenous distillation of opium, in the coal hamper of a boarding house known to be frequented by Orientals and the Irish.
Condolences can be sent to the Grain Exchange building.

 

08.12.09

Remember the “Day Without a Mexican”, and the various “Turn Off Your TV Night”s? Without sounding too Andy Rooney-esque I am hereby calling for a “Month Without an Internet” wherein if you want to talk to someone you will be forced to call them on the phone and hear their voices, and for more formal correspondence you will have to handwrite them a lovely letter, possibly in verse, and mail it in a scented envelope, or send it by courier, preferably on horseback, or clutched in the foot of somekind of trained bird.
‘Peck, peck, peck’ – oh, that must be the evening dove with my scented, handwritten sonnet from my admiring correspondent.

Then everyone except admiring romantic correspondents can just fuck off.

07.23.09

Inspiration-
In a previous entry I wrote on how our perceived smallness of human reality limits us as improvisors, and inevitably leads to boring, predictable scenework that is dull and derivative, all in the service of the great god named “Keeping It Real” (peace and blessings be upon him). The resulting improv usually focuses on boring, bourgeois exchanges between boring people in boring situations that are boring and no one cares about what could possibly happen to these characters because they themselves (and often the actors portraying them) know they are boring and boring. Mind you, I’m not saying that one’s platform needs to be hyperbolically dramatic to be effective or affective, for just two people talking can be entrancing if something is at stake or if the actors honestly communicate, but it is so flipping boring to see (and do) the same scene over and over again.

I’m not writing this to sound all pompous and superior (ever notice that 90% of improv books, even some of the good ones, read like pointless, masturbatory manifestos? (like this blog entry?)) but rather I’m writing it in a desperate ploy to help myself. I’ve been feeling tapped out and unoriginal for a couple of months now and I hate it, so this writing is helping me puzzle it out.

Bearing that in mind, you may want to stop reading now.

Probably my favorite part of the TJ & Dave movie (other than the scene with the duct tape) was just watching them walk around the city finding inspiration in both the unusual and mundane.

In this vein, I am desperately looking around for inspiration to help snap me out of this head space.

Here are some of the things I have found artistically inspiring of late:

I went to the Minnesota Zoo last weekend for the first time in years and it was awesome. Great animal watching, and equally good people watching, which I guess is the same thing, isn’t it?

It was a lovely day, and most every animal was full of beans, especially those on the Minnesota Trail. The wolverines were playing and chasing each other, as were the coyotes, the lynx, the river otters, while the martin was just laying on its back chewing on a stick in an adorable way that belied its deep genetic bloodlust for porcupine flesh.

Two of my favorite overheard exchanges at the zoo:

As I was entranced with the capering of the sea otters, a woman tried to get her roughly 4 year-old daughter to move on to another animal habitat, the kid then pointed to the otter tank and said, “But I want to go in there!”. Amen, sister.

At the moose habitat a four line exchange between 30-something dad and 6 year-old daughter went from the objective, to the existential, to the heartbreaking standard anti-inquisitive dogmatic slapdown, to the adorably corporeal:

(Family approaches moose habitat, wherein the moose is lying down curled up in the shade directly below the observers)

30-something Dad: “That is a moose.”

6 year-old Daughter: “Why is it a moose?”

30-something Dad: “Because that’s how God made it.”

6 year-old Daughter: “Oh. Can I sit on it?”

Lesson to dad – if you destroy the inquisitiveness of your child with simple answers she will inevitably turn to more earthly pleasures.

I too wanted to sit on the moose.

Why is it a moose?

That kid was awesome.

Finally, here is a great quote from David Lynch’s NPR interview a couple of weeks ago:
"Life holds many, many, many mysteries — abstract things that we all think about," Lynch says. "In a film, when things get abstract, some people don't appreciate that, and they want to leave the theater. Others love to dream, get lost, try to figure things out. I'm one of those people."

Here’s the whole piece if you are so inclined.

 

Why is it a moose?

05.26.09

I’m doing research on the RMS Titanic for an upcoming job at the Science Museum of Minnesota, so I thought it couldn’t hurt to watch James Cameron’s 1997 film “Titanic”. I was wrong.

It hurt.

A lot.

When it broke the box office records and won all of those Oscars we should have seen it as a preview of the Bush presidency.

DiCaprio’s character spends the whole movie shouting orders at Winslet’s character. “Follow me!” “Take my hand!” “Hold your breath!”.

How romantic.

Her one command to him? “Touch my body”.

Perhaps it was the topsy turvy feminism of the 90’s that made the nation crave the “tradition” of misogyny.

In 1912 the suffragists were using bombs, hunger strikes, and arson in their fight for the vote.

Grr…

I’m losing the ability to form a cohesive argument.

And I blame James Cameron.

The movies two saving graces were the performances of Billy Zane and David Warner. I guess they were the only ones that read the script and adjusted their performances to match the melodrama of the prose.

At least Cameron made two fun sequels, “Aliens” (not nearly as well made or as frightening as Ridley Scott’s “Alien”, but still fun), and “Piranha 2: The Spawning” (this time, the piranha grow wings, and the characters were more believable than in “Titanic”).

05.03.09

So, while reviewing a video of a Splendid Things set the other day, I was once again trying to find a through line in our particular sense of humor.

What I found was that we often return to either A) Existentialistic, Samuel Beckett-esque nightmarescapes, or B) scenes that derive humor from a hyperbolic level of high-stakes situational drama.

Now, there is a school of thought in improv today that everything should be “kept real”. When this refers to bodies honestly communicating on stage I am in complete agreement; however, the darker, destructive, bourgeois bullshit-laden wing of this school secretly says “only emulate situations the average American would conceivably, believably undergo, like they do in ‘The Office’ or a Judd Apatow film”.

Bearing this in mind, I would like to tell everyone that the world is a weirder place than we often give it credit for.

Case in point: last week a friend of mine was accused of performing witchcraft at of a gas station outside of Rochester, MN.

This accusation was leveled at her by a woman with all of the trappings of white, upper-middleclass privilege.

The accuser said that Satan was in my friend, and had told her that she had used a spell to lock the woman’s SUV. She then told my friend that she would be dead soon.

So, my fellow improvisors, the next time you want to make sure that your scenework is “kept real”, think of my friend and her wealthy accuser, for reality extends beyond the expected.

Thus endeth the lesson.

Love,

Michael Ritchie

04.12.09

Gentle reader,

I will return to the story of Rebecca soon.

I’m writing this episodic chapbook because my own life’s minutia bores the living hell out of me (and I’m the one it’s happening to) but something slightly odd happened to me last night after a show, and Hannah said “you should blog about it”. Being a willfully ignorant technophobe with a second-hand laptop so old it doesn’t recognize the word “blog” in spell-check, I will take your advice Sister Kuhlmann. Here goes:

So, Splendid Things did “Mix Tape” at CSz-TC last night, then handed out postcards for our BLB run to the audience as they left the theatre. As the last few trickled out, a lovely young woman came up and gave me a big hug. I then offered her a postcard and asked her to come and see our show at the BLB on Monday.

The only thing I am worse at remembering than names are faces. Perhaps it is my socially awkward core, maybe I am a hideous misanthropic egomaniac so firmly lost in Michael Ritchie land (my skull is large, and without a map it’s sometimes hard to find the exit) that I don’t think it’s worth the effort, and then again, maybe I just don’t wear my glasses often enough.

But I feel horrible that I didn’t recognize her and therefore just smiled as best I could and talked up the show.

If she was a stranger, I doubt she would hug. People like Jen Scott and Brian Kelly give off a huggy vibe, but it’s safe to say that I don’t.

So, either she was someone I should have remembered but didn’t because I am awkward and self-centered, or else she was an extraordinary stranger.

In either case, if you read this, I apologize for not being friendlier.

Wow, blogging makes me feel like Ted Kaczynski.

Outward focused introspection.

Hannah, I still don’t get it.

03.11.09

So,
Rebecca was crying
There was no doubting that
She had not cried since her Bat Mitzvah (the first her fairly conservative congregation ever held) And today was her 50 th birthday Roughly 37 years after her Bat Mitzvah
She was weeping in the grocery store In the aisle marked “Paper Products”
It smelled of baby wipes and despair

But as was previously stated,
Rebecca was crying, There can be no doubt whatsoever about that

She looked at her trembling hand And through the clingwrap on the roll of paper towels she held There was a printed pattern, meant to look like a Mennonite cross-stitch, that read “HOME SWEET HOME”

When Rebecca saw those three words Well, only two words, to be accurate, as HOME was a repeat, She bawled like the confused girl she was roughly 37 years ago on the bimah - When the reading was too much for her – When the shaking heads of well-meaning relatives and
The responsibility of being the first ‘Bat’ too great Wanting to be so strong But feeling so small

But that was As was previously stated Roughly 37 years ago
So that equals roughly 37 years of non-crying But it is not the non-crying that gets noticed, is it?
No
It’s the 7 minutes of public crying in the grocery store, as Air Supply plays on the corporate grocery store speakers, that brands itself on our brains and personal identity

So now she smelled the baby wipes And cried Weeping like a Sicilian widow Or how she assumed a Sicilian widow would weep When it came to white ethnic groups in America, Jews, the Irish, and Italians were always told that they were emotional But her background had a little of all 3 of those groups and she felt incredibly repressed.
Despite the fact that she was, as has been previously stated, weeping in public. But you must remember, this was the first time she had cried in roughly 37 years, and I would not lie to you

She was cradling her shopping cart for comfort

50
50
50 today
And , despite what the paper towel company said, “HOME” was not so “SWEET”

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