Host You’re Damn Improv Show
The MC is a very overlooked position in comedy. In improv, it’s even worse. You need one. You need one. Please have one.
You are turning a crowd into an audience. They need to be on the same boat, facing the right direction, and laughing at the same time. You get them exactly where you want them, ready to reap the rewards, and then you bring some other asshole to come in and take the glory. God forbid they shit the bed, then it’s your job to rodeo clown in there and take the hit, then get them back up to hot shit…then hand them over again. You’re the dad always fixing the kite, never getting to fly the damn thing.
Do we need one?
For sure, I believe. Every kind of performance from the woodchop to The Voice should have something, but comedy definitely because you don’t just need onlookers, you need a living entity that reacts back (through laughter). This need is only greater in improv, where you are piloting a show on the reactions of the crowd. They turn a group of people into an audience.
I will accept you might not need a host if there is only ONE group doing ONE long format, and they have a audience-interacting opener like a very loose living room. But that is still hosting! Chose one of you to do the heavy lifting and talking, so they others can peanut gallery.
What do we need to do?
At the very very very least, a basic MC should introduce the acts. Just stand there (or voice over), and say who is coming to the stage. Even this is often not done.
What has this simple act done?
- It’s given people a chance, just a few seconds, to shut up and look the right way. It’s a starting pistol or something. Otherwise, your talking while others talk like a phone call in a shopping centre food court. Super basic, makes a difference.
- It’s given at least a smidge of importance to what is about to happen. Somebody thought it important enough to point it out. It’s a start.
- It tells people what the heck they’re watching, even if its just a name. It’s a title page. A frame. It’s something.
Simple.
But in improv, easier said than done. Improvisers are made up of a variety of people, some (like comedians, television infomercial pitchmen) are comfortable talking to the audience, and presenting face on.
But a good chunk are those from the everyday world who aren’t, and more so are actors or actory types who prefer the cloak of a character. Being and MC CAN work in character, and it CAN work being yourself, but its a harder climb shall we say.
The MC needs to be two things: relatable to the audience, and enthusiastic for the product. Characters by their nature preclude the former, and you just being you often precludes the latter because we get embarrassed or don’t want to big ourselves up.
We are improvising. The audience already doesn’t have faith in us, and we don’t have faith because we don’t know how it’s going to go either. It’s ok to say these things, but you still need to convince them it’s not true. If you don’t think you can do it, don’t put on a show. A basketball player doesn’t know they’re going to hit the shots, but they has to at least be confident they are likely to.
As said, tell them its improvised, tell them it could all go wrong, but sell the spectacle. It’s a big top high wire act, it’s a freak show, give it a bit of vavoom.
How to MC
This run down is 100% based on the stand up format, with tweaks. Great big chunks of this article are from Australian comedian Danny McGinlay’s guide to being an MC.
Rule One: Live and die by your audience
It’s all about the audience. They are you’re fire, so stoke it. Keep them ticking along, keep them happy. Small nice happy laughs are good enough, build them to that. Keep your eye on all the members, answer their questions for them, keep the comfortable.
They might be tired, and certainly might be confused. You are there to eliminate those feelings, to lead by example how to behave at a comedy gig.
They want to be there! Maybe not as much as warming up a show, but they do! They having a nice night out, they want to get a little boozy, a little laughy. Maybe they get chatty, just try to turn that chat into listening to jokes and laughing.
Rule Two: It’s not about you
When you’re the MC, you are constantly capable and in charge (unlike a stand up, plundering the depths of despair). At the same time, you are not the star. The stars are in this order: the show, the audience, the venue, the improvisers, and then maybe you.
Rule Three: Keep it light
You’d think this would be optional. Comedy is about failure, and negativity, and angst! Well, not for the host, I’ve never seen it work anyway. Maybe if they’re coming to see the angst show, but that is a crowd that doesn’t need an MC. Please don’t assume you are the exception to this. Even if your comedy is normally dark, or obtuse, or low energy, or whatever, as an MC you are happy go lucky and full of pep. Your peppiest setting anyway.
You are hosting a party. The audience are your new friends, they love you and you love them. You introduce the other acts like they’re old friends you’re introducing. Your old friends are talented as fuck. Sell them like the billy-o. I’m not saying lie ie ‘this next act are the funniest act in the world’ or whatever, but sell ie ‘you’re in for a treat, this next act going to be something special, give them all your love and welcome to the stage RAT THROAT!’. Like that. Say their name last, and with gusto. If you’ve got exciting theme music, blare it. Always bring them on with applause. If nothing else, remember the groups name so the audience doesn’t smell your bullshit. If you get it wrong, don’t panic, they’ll probably re-introduce themselves and you’ll reannounce them (with applause) when they finish anyway. Honestly, the names are made up, the audience doesn’t really care, what they care about is the sell.
What type of party host you are sort of depends on you. Jungle Cruise Tour Guide works well, so does wrestling announcer, so does Genie from Aladdin. Don’t be afraid to appear like a dork.
If they bomb, don’t shit on them. Or do, if it’s that kind of show, but in a fun upbeat way.
Please please remember the big energy thing. It’s like object work, you do it 25% more specifically and broadly (if that’s not a contradiction) so it registers in the cheap seats. Look at the audience dead in the eye. Doesn’t have to be audience members, just the audience. Sweep their foreheads with your gaze.
And don’t shit on the audience either. Jesus. You can tease them, flirt with them, but don’t start fucking with them you idiot. If there are people being just too damn chatty, you might need to bring them back to dry land, but don’t shoot them so everyone shuts up like a POW camp.
Rule Four: Keep it short
Don’t dwell on this rule, but it’s always a good one. Don’t go short at the expense of the other rules, but do go short at the expense of your ego. Keep the night running hot. If they’re loving it, serve them another hot group. If they’re just not buying, don’t drag it out for them. An audiences energy is a finite resource, like any fire, so don’t hog the warmth.
The run down
Again, I don’t know your night. You might have one act, you might have 12. Adjust accordingly.
Opening
Welcome the crowd, thank them for coming
These people have paid money to see some live comedy, so these people are golden. There are countless other things they could have done with their time and money, but they have taken a punt on seeing some comedy, probably featuring comics they have never heard of doing a format they don’t understand in a genre (improvised comedy) that seems ill advised. Show them that you appreciate this. Tell them exactly this if you like
Let them know how the night runs
A lot of people have never been to a comedy night, let alone an improv night. They don’t know the etiquette of how the show works. Inform them — explain how many comics are on, if any big names are performing tonight, how many breaks there will be, and when it would appropriate to go to the bar or toilet. Say it’s improv, and it’s all made up.
Make sure they are warm before bringing on the first act
Get them into the groove of hearing jokes, laughing out loud and then listening to the next one. Maybe this is too big an ask for you to have jokes. Feel free to use some old standard short form host stuff, it’s honestly ok here because its untalterian. But also…you’re an improviser. Just be charming for a bit.
In the age of television and cinema, people are used to sitting silently while being entertained. This is not ideal in a comedy club, so encourage the loud laughers and make the audience feel like a team.
Laughter is a form of communication, and laughing in a comedy night tells the other audience members that you are having a good time, but more importantly, it tells the comedian that you are having a good time. People need to subconsciously learn this behaviour in the first few minutes of the gig, and it is the MC’s job to train these Pavlovian responses. Improv takes this to a new extreme because they literally are part of the team: we need your suggestions. Practice getting them. This has the double benefit of getting their mouths making noise in a controlled way. Show a wipe if need be. This saves the groups from doing it later (the exception being if there’s specific formats coming with specific rules, leave them to be explained directly before).
The middle
Not as big a deal, I imagine, in an improv night. In a stand up night, you’ll have like eight acts so you have little bits in-between. Here you might have max one or two. Maybe you’ve got a game to play with the audience, or a give up. Maybe use this time to promote some stuff (I’ve seen this shoved at the back of an improv show way too much that goes way too long).
Build up the last act all night. They are the headliner, the big cheese, the one we’ve all been waiting for. Except at UCB when this is the second last act for some reason.
Don’t do any material before a break or after the headliner. This is just plain rude. The acts who have just performed have earned their applause and adulation and deserve to be the last thing the audience experiences before a break or at the end of the night. Also, think of the audience, they’ve been sitting still and concentrating and laughing for a long time. They might be busting for the toilet, keen for a beer or have an important phone call to some babysitters to make — and they’ve been primed to expect a break. Do the bare minimum then get off stage.
Before a break it is really important you suggest the crowd all buy a drink, the symbiotic relationship of the bar and the comedy night is dependent on the audience purchasing things. If the bar makes no money then the night will die. Remember that.
A good tactic when chatting to the crowd is to address them as a whole rather than individually: ‘Is anyone here from out of town?’ ‘Are there any students in?’ That way those who are willing to chat to you will show themselves. And remember, never ask a question of the audience without having material you can segue into if you get no response.
Invariably, there will be acts who struggle — their new material doesn’t gel, they don’t click with the crowd or they are just horrible comedians. It is vital that after such an act you come on and reassure the crowd that the rest of the night won’t be the same. Not literally of course, but through doing some strong material of your own to whip them back into shape. An off comedian shakes the crowd’s confidence so you owe it to the other acts to get the crowd back onside.
Similarly, if an act has just blown the roof off a gig and walked off stage to an ovation worthy of a big dick parade, you need to spend at least a full minute on stage so the crowd can finish their laughter and get back to the warm level where they are willing to listen to more.
If you bring the next act on straight away, they will be fighting the memory of the last group and their first few gags will fall flat. You don’t need to do material, a well timed ‘How good was….? Let’s have another round of applause!’ Then remind them of some other acts coming up and what a great audience they are and by that stage they should be ready for their next act.
By the way, sometimes the the crowd is not into you. The other acts are doing fine, but the crowd is distinctly not laughing at you. Sometimes, this just happens, we all have off nights. It is particularly hard when you have to keep going back onstage to introduce the next act. If you have tried everything: speeding up, slowing down, a bit dirtier, a bit nicer, a bit absurd but still nothing, then keep smiling and bringing the acts on. Yes it sucks, but you are the host and the show must go on.
The end of the night
It’s been a great night of comedy. The headliner group has just walked off after kicking arse thanks to the warm crowd you had ready for them. Back-announce the act with pride and tell the crowd how wonderful they have been, make them feel special, because they are.
Make sure all the people who are working get a round of applause, the bar staff, floor staff, sound, door staff. Everyone deserves a mention. Reiterate that the bar is still open and the crowd should stick around for a drink. Some fucker will be running up from the back to promote some more shows, hate that person inside. If they want to do this, keep it short and plan ahead of time. You get maybe two, including this show if it’s recurring. You might be able to squeeze another if you had a guest monologist or something that does something different than you guys.
Name and thank all the comics again, mention yourself, humbly of course, then take your bow.
Great job!
