Don't Think Twice: A Brutally Honest Improv Dream

I love improv. There's something so magnificent about getting up on a stage with other hilarious individuals and coming up with the most random, off-the-cuff scenarios and committing 100% to the absurdity, doing things you've never done and saying things you've never said until the scene ends for the sole purpose of getting a room full of people to laugh-- to bring joy to someone's life for just an hour. Then understanding that, whatever just happened, whatever divine intervention brought this random sequence of suggestions and events together, was a once in a lifetime fleeting moment.  It can and will never be recreated the same again. Since I was fifteen and first discovered improv games and having the ability to not suck at making people laugh, I knew comedy, and improv, were elements that I always wanted to be a large part of my life. Anyone who has ever graced a stage (whether an intimate community theater located in the landfill behind the burned crack house, or a sold-out crowd of hundreds to thousands) has felt this way as well. Growth of dreams and reaching higher and higher up the comedic and performance tent-pole is a staple of anyone consumed with performance. The reality, however, is that very few "make it". Someone putting together an improv show at their church has the same dreams and aspirations as someone who has made it to Saturday Night Live. The majority of these people will never get to experience the SNL stage.  A majority of these people will never get to sell out Madison Square Garden.  A majority of these people will never get the feeling of walking down the street and getting "recognized".  And it's what you do with that conclusion that defines you not just as a comedian, or a performer, but as a human being. This is what I loved so much about Mike Birbiglia's film Don't Think Twice.

If you've ever had thoughts or aspirations or hardcore dreams about being up in the spotlight making others laugh, then Don't Think Twice will probably not just speak to you personally, but there's a very good chance it will break, nay, shatter your heart into a million pieces. Comedian/Writer/Director/Actor Mike Birbiglia has written a film that's funny, and sad, and heartbreakingly honest. It's about an improv troupe known as The Commune. There's Miles (Birbiglia) the seasoned veteran turned improv teacher who laments about the time he was "seconds" from making it onto an SNL type show known as Weekend Live. After that there's Allison (Kate Miccuci), a background performer slash aspiring writer, Lindsay (Tami Sagher) a grown-up trust fund kid trying to make it on her own, Bill (Chris Gethard), the 'weirdo' of the group dealing with a sick father who expected more out of his son, and Sam (Gillian Jacobs) and Jack (Keegan-Michael Key), a couple who have been given the opportunity of a lifetime-- a chance at auditioning for Weekend Live. Together they're your typical improv troupe, going out every weekend at a small, intimate community theater putting on shows that sell out the crowd of hardly fifty seats. When Jack earns a spot on Weekend Live while the rest are set aside, they all take a good, long look at their own lives and what it means to them to be happy.

There's a moment in the film when Bill reflects upon his own existence in the world of improv and he says something to the effect of, "without improv, I'm just a loser."  For those with these huge ambitions of "making it" to the top of the comedy spectrum that's exactly how it can feel.  For those very short moments each week on stage, you feel like a king.  Once it's over and real life takes over again, life can seem empty. On the stage, you're the master of the universe-- in real life, you sell samples of hummus and chips at the local grocery store. This can be the dream-killer for a lot of comedians. Bill also says that "in your twenties it's all about achieving your dreams. In your thirties it's all about realizing how stupid your dreams were." But the message of the movie is dreams are never stupid or pointless, but it's what you make of those dreams that make them come true or not. What's the difference between performing on Saturday Night Live for the world to be able to see or having a killer show in front of fifty people at a local community theater? The bittersweet realization of the weight performers put on "succeeding" is truly what makes this movie so great.

Also, the cast. I believed they were an improv troupe and had been for years.  Their chemistry is undeniable and remarkable. I would watch the six of them perform improv any day. Each one has a different sad quirk that is exposed through their abilities to make each other laugh.  We see each member experience true pain and they're able to make it through due to, not just a close unit of friends, but through their abilities to make them laugh. And Birbiglia understands this-- that comedy is mostly about pain. Most comics have had to deal with a lot of heartache and loss, which to them, is only fuel to the comedy fire. You'll be hard-pressed to meet a comic that has had a privileged life with zero  suffering and/or prevalent sadness. However, it's those moments when you're able to use the bad and turn it into something that makes you or someone else laugh that makes a good comic.

Don't Think Twice really spoke to me. When I was in high school, all I wanted was to be a famous comedian. I wanted my face on billboards and girls who rejected me sending me vials of their tears because they could've had someone so awesome.  I wanted my stand-up special to be on comedy central.  I wanted to write and star in the funniest movie of all time. And now, I don't have these dreams of grandeur.  Yes, I still want to write the funniest movie of all time and having my own special (now on Netflix-- it's 2016-- Netflix didn't exist back then) is something I certainly wouldn't turn down... but I can find that happiness I'd feel if I saw my face on a billboard-- into one night of good improv. A night where everything fell into place at the right moments and made that one particular night better than all the rest.  In that small theater, in front of that small, yet devoted crowd, tears in their eyes from laughing so hard can give me that feeling of success just as much as being famous would. And that's what Birbiglia emphasizes in this film. Dream big. It's not impossible to "make it". But, if you don't... never give up doing what you love.  Never give up the chance to make someone's day a little bit funnier. Success is not defined by fame. And if you are one of the very few to make it... don't forget those that helped you get there.

(I realize this was less of a review and more of a personal introspection-- but, whatever, it's my blog, and I really liked this movie.)

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