I recently watched a documentary on Netflix called The Last Blockbuster. It's about the last remaining Blockbuster video store in Bend, OR. It also takes a look at how the once-powerful chain that had 9,000 video stores collapsed.
Watching this documentary brought back memories about when I was high school and first started renting videos. Back then, it was VHS and Beta, which were these big, clunky video tapes. At the beginning of the video era, video stores were tiny and drab with crumpled-up movie posters in the window. The videos were crammed on the shelves like library books, with no covers on them, so you picked them by the stickers on the side of the video case. Most of time you went in knowing what you wanted, and if they didn’t have it, the person behind the counter would try to convince you to rent another movie they thought you would like.
A video could only be rented for a night, so you had to rush home to watch it and bring it back the next day to avoid a late fee and the embarrassment of bringing it back late. It was not uncommon that if you had a video, especially if it was a new release, for an angry video store owner to call you and remind you to bring back Good Morning, Vietnam, since they probably only had two copies of it.
At the time, video stores were all mom-and-pop businesses, so you’d always know the owner, which sucked when you forgot to rewind a video or turned one in late. It was hard not to take things personally. But, after all, most of the people who rented videos in my neighborhood were irresponsible suburban teenagers, so it makes sense that they treated us like spoiled kids.
A lot of that changed when Blockbuster came on the scene.
I remember when the first Blockbuster video store opened near me. The store was big and bright with its blue and yellow colors. It stayed open late. It had a huge selection — not only of movies, but also old TV shows, documentaries, and stand-up specials. They carried tons of copies of new releases.
They had the videos displayed so you could read the front and back cover, and because of this, you could get lost in Blockbuster. It was the Bermuda Triangle of video stores.
Yes, it was corporate, but back then there was something refreshing about that, because when I went in there, I felt like an adult. But more than that, for someone like me who always wanted to be in show business, there was something about a Blockbuster that made me feel closer to it. It was like Hollywood had set up a branch office in the suburbs.
I was learning how to binge watch before it was a thing. I would rarely leave with less than three videos — let's say Rain Man, 12 episodes of the first season of “The Andy Griffith Show,” and a Beatles documentary. You could do this because, for the most part, you did not have to bring them back the next day. When I got home, I never knew what I wanted to start with and would end up staying up 'til 4 in the morning watching my videos.
It wasn’t until after watching The Last Blockbuster that I realized that renting movies wasn’t just a big deal for me, but it was a big part of many people’s growing up.
The last time I rented a video from a video store had to be about ten years ago, when I was first dating my wife, Lauren. I had resisted getting Netflix because I resist change. There was one video store left in Evanston.
People in Evanston like causes and there was no better cause than supporting the last independent video store in town. I loved going in there, even though the vibe was they were going to close any day, and they could close without warning. The big guy behind the counter thought I was famous because I had two lines in Public Enemies, and I think he looked my up in IMDB, which I have to admit, was pretty cool.
When I went in there, we talked about movies, how the store was doing and other famous people who had come in over the years. (Bill Murray, Tim Kazurinsky and Chris Stolte from "Chicago Fire.")
The Big Guy knew movies, and not in a nerd way. He was more practical than pretentious. Like a friend who had similar tastes in movies that I trusted.
Those conversations were always enlightening and inspired me to watch things I might have normally overlooked, and it always felt like we were two "show people" talking about "the industry" we loved, though I was slightly more famous and never held it over him.
Watching that documentary really made me feel sad that video stores are no longer. Today, you don't have to make as much of effort to watch a movie. I can watch anything I want at the click of a button, and I never have to rush out to the store to get something back on time, but I also miss the human connection, even over the power of movies.
Blockbuster, I miss you.
Lauren and I read a lot of library books to my four-and-half-year-old daughter, Betsy.
Recently one night we read a new one called Alex's Good Fortune, by Benson Shum. The plot goes like this: Alex invites her friend Ethan over to her house for Chinese New Year, and (spoiler alert) we learn about all of the things they do to celebrate the holiday, like doing a dragon dance, getting red envelopes and cooking Chinese New Year dishes.
The story ends with the protagonist, Alex, thanking Ethan for celebrating the holiday with her. It’s a sweet ending, though some of the reviews I read online called it "a bit predictable."
Anyways, in the back of the book are two pages about the Chinese zodiac, which features 12 different kinds of animals, and your sign is determined by the year you were born.
I have always loved astrology, numerology, and those tests to find out what Star Wars character you are, since I am usually Yoda.
So, I was excited.
Betsy went first. Her sign is a monkey, and according to the book it says she is supposed to be: adventurous (No), active, (sometimes, not in the winter time she likes to stay indoors), and curious (Yes, Betsy is curious, which is why she asks "why"100 times a day.) Overall, pretty accurate, though as parents we need to work on her being a little more adventurous.
Now, it was Lauren's turn and she scored off the charts. Her sign is a horse, which means she’s independent (very), impatient (extremely) and positive (definitely). She nailed it — three for three.
Finally, it was my turn. I am a dragon. I don't mean to be a downer, but I don’t like dragons. A dragon is mystical creature, like a unicorn, and I don't like fantasy. Ok, fine.
My first trait is supposed to be fearless, which is not true and made me depressed.
The second trait is supposed to be ambitious, which I think I am, but if I am honest with myself, I realize I am not, and this made me even more depressed.
The third trait is creative. Undisputed. “That is me!” I thought, until Betsy said: “Daddy’s not very creative when he colors.”
“What? Just because I want to color the Disney princesses the same colors that they are in the movies?"
"That is not creative Daddy! Creative is using different colors than the movie."
Then she showed me examples from her coloring book a Jasmine with bright red hair, Ariel with purple skin and a Belle that was completely orange.
"That is creative, Daddy,” she said, proudly turning the pages.
Being a super creative person, like being funny, is important to me. But the truth is she’s right, I am not creative in coloring, and I’m not creative in a lot of other things I do, either.
I like to think of myself as this crazy improv guy, but deep down I am a rule follower, and sometimes in improv it's helpful to follow the rules and sometimes it helps to go rouge. That is how we find our voice. It's through the process of taking risks and occasionally bending rules.
Maybe I can apply this to my coloring.
Working with great improvisers is exciting and fun, and usually I ended up learning a lot from them.
Over the years I have been fortunate enough to get to play with some of the best improvisers out there, and because I am still doing Jimmy and Johnnie on Zoom, I still get to do so.
Here are six improvisers (believe me, there are tons more), that I have learned from and the traits of theirs that I would love to have.
Who are some of your favorite improvisers, and what do you admire about them? Tell us in the comments below.
Last week my family packed up and moved to a new house. Which I guess is good news? But I have a hard time with change of any kind, even if it's an improvement.
After we unpacked the boxes and I smudged the house with sage to prevent any negative energy from coming in, I then went on my finding-everything-wrong-with-the-house phase which lasted a week. (I should have smudged myself).
When it was over, I was convinced I made a huge mistake.
I was depressed.
I was blaming myself for putting my family through this kind of stress.
I thought moving to this new house was all my fault and I wanted to die.
Then when I got over that, the self-pity kicked in and I started beating myself up for not being more excited, more grateful, wishing I was the kind of person who naturally felt grateful and excited. That’s why I read so many self-help books, so I can become that kind of person.
But today, as much as I don’t like it, I know myself well enough that I realize this is just how I am. This is my process when big monumental changes occur in my life. When Betsy was born, I had the same reactions. It was not until months later that I realized having her was the best decision I ever made in my life.
The happiness and the joy were delayed. Maybe it was there all along but I couldn’t tell because the shame and anxiety were over riding it. That's ok. What I have learned is that for me, this how I work. Yes it sucks not to feel more joy when something like this happens, but if I am going to be able to take more in, I have to admit where I am at right now. And where I am at right now, a little over a week living in our new house, is feeling a little less miserable.
Recently, I wrote a blog about what you can do if you get a note in improv class that you don’t agree with. I got some great comments from both improv teachers and improvisers, and I thought that it would be helpful to share some of the comments with you.
If you’re an improv teacher, how do you approach giving notes? And if you’re an improviser, do you think that it’s important to try to incorporate the notes that your teacher gives you, or is it better to take what you like and leave the rest?
Here are a few perspectives. I’d love to hear yours as well.
From Improv Teachers:
From Improvisers and Actors
Have you ever gotten a note from an improv teacher that you didn't agree with?
Did it make you feel confused, frustrated or even ashamed, like you had done something wrong? I assure you, you have not.
They say that there are no mistakes in improv. But that doesn’t apply to teachers giving notes.
If you are like me, you’re probably like “No way. The teacher can’t make a mistake. They know a lot more about improv than I do, so whatever he says must be right.”
The teacher may know more about improv than you do, but they don't know more about you and your creative process. When you go to the doctor, they may be the expert on medicine, but you are the expert on your body, since you are the one in it. The same thing applies with your creative process.
Believe me, as an improv teacher, I wish was correct 100% of the time, but I’m not. After all, improv is a subjective artform, so the feedback and suggestions that I give to my students are just how I see things, but they’re not gospel.
So, if you get a note from a teacher and it doesn’t sit well with you, I encourage you to speak up in the moment about how you feel about the note. I know it’s scary as shit to do that. When I’ve given notes, sometimes students have said, “That put me in my head" or “It shut me down” or "I don't understand.” This gives the teacher an opportunity to adjust their feedback and you may get a note that actually helps you.
As messy and imperfect as this can be, as a teacher, it gives me more information about that student’s creative process and how to give them even better notes in the future.
I know how hard it is to speak up in the moment, and if you struggle with this, the next best thing you can do is to e-mail your teacher and bring up your concerns at the top of the next class.
And maybe the next time you get a note you don’t agree with, you may even say in your head, “Gee, I don’t think that applies to me,” or “Whatever. My teacher is way off base here,” and not turn your teacher into God.
At the beginning of each new improv class or workshop, I often tell my students that when it comes to notes, take what you like and leave the rest.
As an improv teacher, my goal is to collaborate with my students, so they can find their voice with the help of the class, not only on stage but in their own lives as well.
This month will mark 10 months that we have been improvising online. Can you believe it? Though improvising online will never replace the thrill of improvising in front of a live audience, I have to say it's a pretty good substitute.
During this time, I have gotten to work with students from all over the world who have taught me a lot. And John Hildreth and I have continued to do our monthly Jimmy and Johnnie show, and we have gotten to perform with improvisers from cities across the country who have also taught me a lot.
So I wanted to share with you some things I have learned over the past 10 months that have helped me and my students become even better online improvisers.
And once you deliver your line, PAUSE until you partner speaks. This will prevent people talking over each other and give your scene partner the space to emotionally react to what you just said. If you are having difficult doing this, a good exercise to start with is “One Word Dialogue Scenes,” which is helpful in teaching students that they can communicate a lot in one word.
When a player’s screen freezes, justify it. I had a student who was doing a scene where that happened and her character took it personally and called out the other character for stopping speaking. If you or your scene partner forgets to unmute at the top of scene, call it out in character, because we all saw it. If someone pops on screen accidentally and then pops off, you need to mention it, since we saw it, too. It’s not only fun, but it also has the potential to deliver some of the biggest laughs.
Jimmy Carrane, one of the leading improv teachers in the United States, is pleased to announce that he will be expanding his online improv class offerings this year. Beginning this February, Carrane will now be offering two sections of his Art of Slow Comedy comedy classes — one on Wednesdays from 7-9 p.m. Central and Fridays from 10 a.m.-12 p.m. Central.
Carrane will begin offering his Art of Slow Comedy Level 1 classes beginning Feb. 17 through March 24 and Feb. 16 through March 26. The Level 2 classes will run from April 7 through May 14 and the Level 3 classes will run from May 26 through July 2. All classes are limited to 10 people and are held via Zoom.
“Whether you are an actor who would like to become more spontaneous in your work, an improviser who would like to explore a new approach to improvising, or just someone who would like to have more fun in your life, I think you’ll really enjoy my Art of Slow Comedy classes,” Carrane says.
The Art of Slow Comedy is a fresh approach to scenic improvisation, based on the idea that before you can be funny, you need to be real. In the first level of his series, Carrane teaches his students that they don’t have to invent something to be funny; audiences respond to real life situations and performers who are brave enough to be honest.
In the six-week class, students learn how to respond emotionally to their scene partner, be authentic and vulnerable on stage, develop their unique comedic voice and play the reality of the scene.
The Art of Slow Comedy Level 1 class is $259 if you register by Feb. 3 (and $289 if you register after). To sign up, please visit: https://jimmycarrane.com/level-1-fundamentals-of-improv/.
About Jimmy Carrane
Jimmy Carrane was an original member of The Annoyance Theater and Armando at iO Chicago. He has written and starred in several acclaimed one-man shows including, “I’m 27, I Still Live at Home and Sell Office Supplies,” and “Living in a Dwarf’s House,” and he performed in groundbreaking shows such as “Godshow” and “Naked” with MadTV’s Stephanie Weir.
Today, Jimmy lives in Evanston, IL, with his wife and daughter and is a renowned and respected improv teacher, having taught at The Second City, IO-Chicago, The Annoyance, and other locations for more than 25 years. He may be best known to some Chicago audiences from his seven years as host of Studio 312 on Chicago Public Radio, a show-within-a-show on WBEZ’s 848. Later, Carrane gained notoriety as the host of the popular podcast Improv Nerd.
For information on Jimmy, please visit www.jimmycarrane.com.
We have all been there. We’re in the middle of an improv scene and it is going nowhere. We are dying up there because the scene has stopped going forward. In most cases, an improv scene stalls out because we are being tentative with each other. We don’t need to give up, or even panic, we just need to introduce some new information. Here are three surefire ways to turn revived a stalled out improv scene.
Anger is the most obvious emotion to come up from someone revealing a secret, and don't be afraid to play it. It will always be more interesting than the scene you were doing that was going nowhere. Be open to other emotional responses as well and remember you will have to justify them. So, if you are excited that the other character told you about pretending to go work, you could respond happily, "I knew it! My therapist said I had to wait for you to bring it up."
Now we have two quirky characters who are fun to watch.
Or you might say flirty: “Just like when we were dating. I’ll meet you in the bed when you get back.”
So, the process in your head might be to first realize what is going on, and then wait for the your partner’s next line to read into something it and have a heighten emotional response.
Employee: No, I took this job to please my parents. I really want to be a writer, but I promised them I wouldn't quit.
Boss: I have never fired anyone before.
Now we have two very interesting characters.
An extra bonus: A Want Exercise
I have an exercise that helps students find their wants in scenes. Improvisers are usually told not to do transaction scenes. They usually fall flat because there is no shared history between the charatacters. What typically happens is the scene becomes about returning a sweater, and because the characters have no shared history or relationship with each other, it is boring to watch. That being said, I think you will have different results with this exercise because you will provide the players with a both a relationship and a want.
Set Up: Two Players at a Starbucks. One player is the customer. One player is the barista.
Activity: They need to play it believable. The barista is responsible for the environment, such as using the cash register, making the coffee, etc. The customer needs to know what he is ordering, just like he really came into a Starbucks.
Ground Rules: In the scene, the customer is either coming into the store to break up with or ask out the barista. If the customer is coming to ask the barista out, the customer is a regular and has been coming in for a long period of time and they have shared history.
Try this scene and see if you can imbue your character with a want to make the scene come to life.
With 2020 coming to an end, you are probably coming up with a list of resolutions for the upcoming year. If you haven't yet, don't. Resolutions don't work — at least not for me.
When I used to set them, I would always get the same results, which was by January 3rd, I ended up hating myself even more because I could not stick to my silly resolutions. Yes, I have some things I would like to change in my life, actually a lot of things, but putting more pressure on myself rarely worked.
Real change has always come slowly and with the generous support and help from other people. As improvisers we understand that it’s important to work with other people. After all, we chose an art form that's dependent on support from others. But we sometimes have a hard time applying that concept to our lives.
So, instead of making a goofy list of resolutions that I know I am not going to keep and feeling worse about myself, here are list of 10 things I want to do more of next year. And I hope that by writing them out, and I can begin the process of making some changes.