Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Ed Herbstman 5/5/06 Part 3

JF: So, what was Los Angles like when you moved out here? Was there really any long form improv going on?


EH: No, there was no improv out there. There was the Groundlings, which isn’t improv, and there was a gathering of Second City Alumns, who would fuck around on weekends. Basically goof off in front of an audience here and there. But there was nothing.

When we moved out there, all the L.A. people who were from Chicago, like Dave Koencher, Pat Finn and those people who were in L.A. but had no place to do any of their Improv Olympic stuff. Once we started IO, Charna basically said ‘Hey, I need you guys. Come back to IO. Do some shows. Help me launch this thing.’ And I think Koencher and Finn and those guys really enjoyed doing it. I think they first saw it as ‘Ok, we’ll do her this favor. She’s sort of the Queen Bee. Let’s take care of her.’ And they actually had fun, and had a ball with all of us newcomers. Koechner and Finn actually have become good friends with the crew that I went out there with.

I think that stage out in L.A. kind of allowed a lot of the Chicago people who were ready to leave Chicago, like Neil Flynn, Pete Hulne, people who were consistently working actors in Chicago who were ready for a bigger fishbowl, to leave Chicago. They had a place where they could go and actually perform on the weekends. So, Improv Olympic instantly almost, after 2 years had this influx of amazing talent come in to do great shows. That was really great.

The vibe there is a little different though. I haven’t been there for 5 years, but when I was there my feeling always was Chicago is a place for training, and L.A. is a place for exhibiting what you know and what you can do. So, there was always a sense of who’s in the audience.



JF: What was your experience like in Los Angeles?


EH: It was mostly fantastic, except for the parts that were really horrible. I really loved everyone who I got to play with in my circle of friends and my social network, and I really have a lot of deep, deep love for my college friends like Adrienne Wenner, Ethan Sandler, Paul Vallaincourt, and the guys from Bitter Noah that I went out there with. I miss them greatly. It was fun to be with them. I liked the whole living out of a Hollywood fantasy, that was fun, but at a certain time it became apparent that what I was doing for me at that time felt meaningless and shallow. So, when Melanie got into Grad School at NYU, I was not only sure that I had to go with her in order to keep her in my life, but that I wanted to live in New York.



JF: What was it like moving to New York? Were you still planning on acting or improvising?


EH: No, I really wasn’t. I was planning on becoming a police officer, so I took the test and started going through that process of becoming a cop, which takes a long time and is pretty annoyingly, ridiculously difficult, just paperwork-wise. You actually have to be a resident of New York, so I had to move here first before I could proceed with a lot of the whole process of becoming a cop.

When I came here, I wasn’t really interested in doing anything, so I ended up getting a job as a writer’s assistant on a sitcom, because of my L.A. friends who were out here and I needed a job. Then I ended up getting a job directing the actors in a version of the TV version of the improv show Lifegame that Keith Johnstone developed. All of these jobs I sort of stumbled into because of my L.A. friends who were out here working. That kept me going until I became a cop and that’s when I stopped performing.



JF: Why did you want to become a cop?


EH: Well, a lot of reasons. Mostly because I wanted to do something that I thought would be deeply meaningful and have a great amount of substance, and I wanted to radically change my life. Live differently. I wanted to have a stable profession, but one that was still very exciting. I wanted to really learn the city through the eyes of a cop and kind of go on an adventure. See things I’d never seen before and get a different perspective. All those things happened.



JF: What brought you back into improv?


EH: Armando kept calling me. [laughs] He kept saying ‘why don’t you come by the P.I.T.?’ So, I came by the P.I.T. when I actually broke my foot. While it was healing, I came by and did some shows. It was really fun. I met Chris Gethard. Who else did I meet? Ptomley Slocum, Kurt Braunohler, and a handful of other people who made me go ‘hey, there’s some really great people here in New York. That is really refreshing.’ And I got to get back in touch with Armando.

I was happy that I had done that, but didn’t expect to come back to it. I expected my foot to heal and to go back to policing, but while I was a cop what I really felt was this growing truth that I’m not a cop, and what I am is a comedian. I was designed to do comedy, like it or not. Not to proclaim that it’s my destiny, but I’ve sort of painted myself into a corner. I’ve spent 27 years working on my comedy chops and thinking in terms of a comedian, and when I say a comedian I mean someone who views the entire world through the lens of their sense of humor primarily. And when my wife got pregnant and my son was born, I thought ‘look, I’m not designed to do this, and now I have a kid. This is ridiculous. I never planned to do this for 20 years. I planned to just go on an adventure and just see where it takes me. And now is the perfect time to end this because I’m going to have a child and I don’t want to be killed.’

I had been shot at and my partner was shot. All my buddies at the precinct were getting smashed up in car wrecks or getting into fights where they’d break an arm or they’d come back bloody. I think I managed to escape all this I think due to luck and my ability to speak to people and the knowledge of my own limits. I thought I was a pretty good cop and could avoid things that were unnecessary, but eventually my number was going to be called and I was going to be injured, possibly in a way that would be [very serious.] Basically, I’m saying I was going to get my ass kicked however badly and it was a matter of time. And I didn’t want that to happen, especially now having a kid.

So, I got out and said ‘what the hell am I going to do?’ And decided to start writing again. I really wanted to write on the Daily Show, so I submitted to them a bunch of times and I started submitting to a bunch of shows. Then I submitted to the Ali G show and they hired me as a writer on their second season, as a contributor. That’s when I pretty much decided that I had made the right move. I continued that, then I stumbled into advertising. Now I’m continuing to stumble while in advertising, doing what I think I’m best at and somehow allowing my supervisors to take what I do and somehow put into the mold that they can sell to a client, so that’s fine for now. Ideally, I’d like to be writing on the Daily Show, who wouldn’t? For Christ Sake. Those dirty sons-a-bitches.


JF: [laughs]


EH: I love that show so much. I love Jon Stewart. I almost get that feeling I had when I was a kid watching Second City, only now you don’t feel anything as intensely as you did when you were a kid. It’s like ‘oh, I recognize that feeling. I think I’m going to have another cookie and go to bed.’ Instead of like ‘holy shit, if this doesn’t happen, what is the meaning of life!?’



JF: Well, hopefully it will happen. Maybe they’ll read this interview or something.


EH: It’s almost certain that it won’t happen. I’m aware of that, although I believe that the attempts to make it happen are what lead to the surprises and the successes along the way. Like me trying to get onto the Mainstage led up to everything up until that point, when I stopped trying to get onto the Mainstage. Amazing things occurred. Just like in a great story, the goal is never what you think it is. It always turns out to be something else. You always want something that you’re not aware of. There’s always something else driving you. The Daily Show is a really great beacon in the distance, just like when I was a kid Saturday Night Live was a great beacon. Something else will come along, or I’ll create something that leads to somewhere. But I’m not going to give up, but I’m not going to expect it anyway. …Blah, blah, blah. Edit all this garbage out!



JF: What role does improv play in your life now?


EH: Eh. …What do you mean?



JF: I mean, how important is improv itself to you and how much does it influence what you do and the way you think about what you do or what you want to do?


EH: It can’t help but inform everything, because it’s a state of being really. When you do it and you train and you work and you have experiences on stage and become friends with other improvisers, it’s sort of a way of living, just the heightened state of awareness, the ability to turn it on and off in social situations, the ability to make very quick judgments when you have to and trust them, and the ability to write. All of these things come from improv training. So, it’s kind of like saying ‘what role to your parents play in your life?’ Well, there’s no simple answer to that. It’s an extremely complicated role. They’re my greatest ally and greatest enemy at the same time. It’s funny, because it’s something that when I was younger I thought I would want to conquer and become good at. And at a certain point you realize that it’s not conquerable, and that conquering it is irrelevant. What you’re really working on is living life more deeply and that really never ends.

I think that without being exposed to long-form improv and Del and Improv Olympic and the people from that world and that idea of behaving, I would not know how to deeply connect with other people. I wouldn’t have those skills, and now I feel I can connect very quickly.

The other thing is doing bits with people is one of the most pleasurable things in life. I would have never known that. I would have joked around with people, but I never would have known that there was a skill involved. It’s almost like dancing with someone, but it’s a very specific way of dancing, that is extremely gratifying. It’s always about trying to make someone you respect laugh, and doing it in the most intelligent way possible, and summoning everything you know. It’s just an incredible game to play. And it’s my favorite thing to do.



JF: What makes good improv to you? What are some qualities of improv that you like to see and perform?


EH: People onstage who know how to read each other and how to get information in ways that are other than simply verbal and use that information in ways that are other than just verbal. I guess, extremely focused and talented actors doing amazing work that’s on a deeper level because it’s not just verbal.

I guess when people lock-in in a certain way it’s like a trance. Watching people in that trance and who are simultaneously aware of what they are doing, it’s a great experience when it happens to you and it’s a great experience to watch people do it. I hate when people fuck around on stage, and do jokes, and do dick jokes for the sake of making the audience laugh. I guess juvenile stuff, like frat house humor stuff is the thing I hate the most, and the thing I like the most is when somebody is simultaneously doing something very fast but also having something else going on that is very slow, and all the shades in between. And that only happens when you’re locked into that ‘trance state,’ for lack of a better description.



JF: How would you define the term ‘yes and?’


EH: It’s an extremely good shorthand for a much larger concept. It’s like saying ‘ok, you have a motor. How do you define what ‘gear’ is?’ Well, it’s a circle that has consistent ridges that is designed to mesh with another circle with consistent ridges, but of a different diameter, in order to use a little bit of power and rotation to make something much larger and heavier to move at a certain rate. Hey that was a pretty good description of a gear, don’t you think?



JF: Yup.


EH: You weren’t listening.



JF: I know that you mentioned diameter.


EH: [laughs] Go on and say one other word that I just mentioned.



JF: Consistent?


EH: Ok.



JF: Sweet.


EH: Ok, you proved you were kind of listening. Well, it’s like saying ‘what is a gear?’ What is yesand? Yesand is the gears without which the components can’t connect.



JF: Ok, I understand.


EH: Cool.



JF: What makes a good team? Like with Mr. Blonde, you mentioned the offstage aspect. Do you think that’s an important element for a good team?


EH: Hmmm. You can all hate each other and it can still be a good team. A good team first has to be composed of really great individual players, that’s necessary but not sufficient. You need to have more than that. You need to have chemistry. You need to have a common goal. You need to work together for a while. But the qualities of a good team are mutual support, a culture of risk taking, a culture of in my opinion not repeating anything you’ve ever done before. Sort of a culture of resistance of falling into a pattern of play. It’s very easy to do the same shit every week. A good team will avoid that, or it will minimize it.



JF: What’s the importance of acting in improv or acting training to an improviser?


EH: It depends on the improviser and what the improviser wants, but you can’t help but be effected by quality training, whether it’s acting training, or learning to paint or you’re learning how to build a sword or teach monkeys sign language. You learn something and I think that helps you understand things in a different way. I think acting training can be an awesome complement to improv training. The two overlap in so many ways, but I don’t think it’s necessary to be a good improviser. But I do think that improv training is necessary to be a good actor, although there are fantastic actors who do not improvise, who have figured out how to get to that state of being without doing ‘Zip, Zap, Zop,’ I guess.



JF: Why is it important for an actor to have improv training?


EH: Because there are certain skills specific to improv that will complement any kind of scenework you do. For me, when you say ‘acting training’ I am going to assume you mean something like Meisner, Stanislavski or offshoots of those two things. To me Meisner is the closest to improv training that ‘legit,’ so called, acting training is. What Meisner does is teach people how to recognize what being in the moment is, and how to use being in the moment to make your scene have life. How as an actor you live within certain given circumstances, but still let those circumstances inform the present moment instead of rigidly trying to proscribe the right and wrong way to behave. So, I think improv is just a way better way than the Meisner method to help people get into that place.



JF: What makes a good improv teacher or coach?


EH: The ability to recognize people’s strengths and weaknesses, and the ability to communicate those strengths and weaknesses in a way that the specific person can understand and grow without discouraging them and without falsely encouraging them to a degree that they’ll become aware that it’s false. So, consistent, legitimate, honest, accurate and encouraging feedback designed to help an individual and a group along to the next landmark on whatever path they’re on.



JF: What makes a good initiation? And how do you initiate personally?


EH: I usually initiate by listening and reacting, and if I have an idea, like a premise, something specific that I want to do, I usually listen and react first, and if the premise is still valid I’ll introduce it. Listening and reacting doesn’t mean waiting for the other person to speak, but I’ll already have been listening and reacting.



JF: You mean listening as in observing.


EH: Yeah.



JF: Ok. What is the game to you and how important is it to your improv?


EH: The game to me is the pattern and structure of the dynamic between two or more people. It’s more of a mathematical equation. It’s extremely important when you’re using it, and mildly important when you’re not focused on it. There are some people who can do the game in the scene, find the game in the scene and play the game in the scene and do it well. And there are some people who can’t or who don’t, or who don’t yet. I like to improvise with both types of people, even in the same show. I do a show on Saturday nights and people play the game in the scene to varying degrees. I know with some people I’m going to step out and we’re going to find the game right away and play it, and with other people I’m going to step out with and not find the game, but still do a great scene. I like playing with both.



JF: You’re one of the few people I’ve come across who actually seems to have some guidelines or advice about how to work on tag-ins. How do you work on tag-ins? What makes a good tag in to you?


EH: Well, first of all timing. It’s not something you can sit on and expect it to have the same potency. Secondly, clarity. You’ve got to be extremely clear and concise and communicate a lot of information in a small period of time. The other thing is, and this is something that’s most difficult to pull of but probably most rewarding for the audience, you’ve got to tag-in and do more than just say something. You have to tag-in and be somebody and say something. You have to tag-in and be somebody and say something. You have a lot more going on than coming in and going ‘you’re tests are in and you have double cancer.’ You know? Well, you’ve got to come in with a doctor character with at least one thing going on other than him saying that line. Whether he be checking his beeper or having a problem with the light that shines behind the X-Ray, or being a little too paranoid that someone’s going to overhear him, or being a little too touchy feely with the patient, or being extremely cold and professional to the point of being rude. There’s got to be something going on other than just the line. That’s my feeling on tag-outs.

I also feel like if you don’t let the scene breath and do a tag-in, it would be like stitching together tissue paper. Eventually you’re going to end up with a lot of stitching and no tissue paper, because the tissue paper is going to get ripped and torn and fall away, and you’ll just have your tag-outs and not have your scenes. That’s what happens when people get tag-out happy.



JF: Do you have anything that you would like to say to the improv community that we didn’t get out in this interview?



EH: How about please check out the Magnet theater. It’s something that I think is pretty special. Armando is an amazing teacher, and he runs the school. We’ve got great teachers and eventually our shows are going to be amazing. Also, I just had another baby, her name is Beatrice and she’s really funny, so check out her show really soon. It’s a little racy. She does a little singing and striptease.



JF: Uh-huh.


EH: It’s actually more like cry and getting her diaper changed. …She’s actually the best improviser in the family.



JF: Really?


EH: Because she treats everything like it’s the first time she’s experiencing it. It’s a fantastic skill. She’s not cynical or bitter at all.



JF: She’d probably be good on Mr. Blonde.


EH: Yeah, she could do some musical theater dancing with Rob Mello. Yeah, you heard me Rob Mello!

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