Many people had long been fans of the BBC's improv show Whose Line Is It Anyway?, which aired for a while on Comedy Central before its sudden and inexplicable disappearance. So the creation of a new Whose Line on ABC, with charismatic Drew Carey as host, multi-talented improv dynamo Wayne Brady, and such BBC Whose Line veterans as Ryan Stiles, Greg Proops, and Colin Mochrie, was indeed a gift from above. It was also the first time such a show had ever aired on American network TV.
Both Proops (left in photo) and Mochrie started out studying acting, but were quickly drawn to the challenge of live improv, Mochrie at Vancouver's Theatresports and Toronto's Second City, and Proops with an improv group called Faultline with Mike McShane. Also a well-known standup, Proops' work has taken him on national and international tours, and to the Edinburgh Festival for five years. Having appeared recently in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace as one voice of a two-headed sportscaster commenting on a pod race, Proops now hosts Comedy Central's VS.
Proops and Mochrie recently sat down to chat about the ins and outs of intrepid improv.
Colin Mochrie: The first time I saw Theatresports I thought, "This is great, you don't really have to know anything, you don't have to rehearse." For a lazy guy it's the best thing. So I got involved with the workshop and then basically the next night I got involved in the match.
Greg Proops: That was sort of the appealing part-you didn't have to learn any lines. I was doing theatre at the time and it's a lot of work.
Mochrie: And doing improv you were usually working with your friends, so it was just like being at a party without the drinks.
Proops: Then you'd have the drinks afterward.
Mochrie: Or before. When we first started it was basically at Theatersports, Second City. There wasn't a lot. It was one of those things that was fun but you never thought you could actually make a living at it. And thank God Whose Line opened, 'cause that certainly helped a lot. Then again, I know a lot of great improvisers who would have trouble doing Whose Line because it's more gaggy and tricky. The nice thing, though, is that everybody has worked with the others for so long that there's a lot of trust. So even if you do drift, you know the other person will pick up the slack. Which is why it's so important to listen.
Proops: What?
Mochrie: Listen. Because you have nothing except the other people onstage with you. That's where you're gonna get most of your ideas.
Proops: Definitely. It's difficult to think of a joke before you walk out there because the problem comes trying to remember where you were going to put it, and then all of a sudden you look self-conscious, like you're trying to remember something-probably the worst thing you can do while you're improvising. A far away look in your eyes...
Mochrie: It's a no-win situation. If it goes really well, people think it's written; if it sucks, people think it's improvised.
One of the best things about improv is you have more control over the stuff that gets out there because they don't have a chance to edit it, really. They have to work with what you've done. Whereas if you've written something, people just tear it apart.
Proops: And the committee forms. You know, if you've ever been on a sitcom, it's these other 15 people standing there going, "You should say this instead of this." Then again, on Whose Line I've been cut out of a whole hat game before. You see it done back and forth but without me, because everything I said was apparently so saucy that it would, you know, drive young people to have sex out of wedlock. Which is of course the result of all jokes.
Mochrie: Well, that's how I lost my virginity.
Proops: You kissed me last year on the show; that was funny.
Mochrie: And they stopped tape and said, "OK. Can you, like, kiss him on the cheek or something?"
Proops: Because, as you know, two men kissing on TV creates homosexuality. I'm not sure if you're aware of that.
Mochrie: I think previous to that I killed three women in a sketch.
Proops: You know, the most important thing that I've found over the years...
Mochrie: What would that be, Greg?
Proops: Well, I'm just about to tell you, but I'm leaving a dramatic pause... Stage time. That's the key. You're never going to develop a personality as an actor or a standup or an improviser unless you get onstage for a thousand, zillion hours.
Mochrie: You really do have to do it as much as you can, wherever you can. Basically that's where you learn improvising, you learn about audiences, how to relate to them. You learn what you do best and what you don't do best. It really is a muscle; even if you go a couple of months without doing it, it's hard getting back into it.
Proops: Yeah, you feel rusty as hell.
Mochrie: That's everything. Hang in until people die or give up. Sooner or later you'll get a chance.
Proops: I'd love to say that I just fell into it, but no, I pursued it doggedly and tackled it. It was never an accident. I never understand when people are "accidentally" a performer. You've gotta have the will. People will say, "Oh, it's so scary. I'd never do that." I always think, "Good, don't do it." If it really frightens you, you oughtn't do it. You'll be terrible at it. You'll be so self-conscious. If you see people are nervous onstage it makes you nervous to be an audience member. If you're super-confident, no matter what you're doing, somehow it'll work eventually. I remember when I was really first starting I didn't care what I did onstage. I was absolutely fearless.
Mochrie: I had my pants off more often when I was starting. If nothing was happening, my pants would come down.
Proops: Yeah, I'd never humiliate myself like I did when I first started.
Mochrie: It was like you were a baby. You didn't really know what fear was. Then you quickly learn.
Proops: And then hatred comes in waves...
Mochrie: It's the uncertainty of it. You're only as good as your last gig, and even then not always.
Proops: Yeah, I've always felt that way, too. But it's not that hard of a job; we do want to do it. I hate hearing actors go, "We had to do a movie and it was really hard 'cause we had to shoot all day and blah, blah, blah." And I go, "Well, fuck you. If you ever worked in a law office or delivered pizza, then you know that having to be on a set all day is not the hardest thing you can do. Not to minimize how difficult it can be to shoot a movie, but you've chosen this, so shut up."
Mochrie: Really, it's like a drug. There's no feeling like it when you've said something and the audience thinks it's as funny as you do.
Proops: And it's different from standup, because when it's clicking and you're improvising, sometimes lightning strikes, you know? The audience is laughing, they're there then, and they're all over it. But then there are nights where you're all over it and they're somewhere else, or nights where it's not clicking at all with the cast, yet the audience seems to be going wild, so you just kind of pretend that it is.
Mochrie: There's no barometer of how it's going. Do you find the audience is willing to give you more leeway in improv than in standup, because with standup they expect you've worked on it so it'd better be good?
Proops: Yeah, the pressure's there. If it doesn't work, they'll go, "Oh, that just sucks; we're leaving." Whereas in improv if you do a couple of things and they don't work, they'll just say, "OK, fine. Next."
Mochrie: They seem to find some humor out of improvisers dying, rather than a standup dying.
Proops: Well, you can learn to fail. Failing is just as important. If you're just up there trying and you're true to yourself, you can still get laughs; they'll still like you. You mustn't be someone you're not. But I think that's what you get after being onstage a long time. BSW