Chicago Improv Festival weekend round-up

Sure, this year's improv fest went on for a very, very long week, but the last three days felt longer and more jam-packed than anything I experienced in the four days prior. For starters, this marked the start of my "Which show to see?" dilemmas—unlike Sketchfest, most of the ensembles featured at CIF played one-time-only shows that conflicted with each other. Part of that is done on purpose, though—Mark Sutton told me (and disclosed at the opening ceremonies) that he views CIF as two festivals comprised of its mainstage and side stage offerings. Something for everyone; everything for me. The solution? I balanced my time between early showcases, later mainstages and way-later fringe shows. Read about the shows you may have missed (I'm looking at you, over-committed-yet-under-dedicated scenester) and let's start the buzz for '08.

Barinholtz & Belushi, the first show on my list, certainly pulled a nice crowd—Charna Halpern, Beth Kligerman, Joyce Sloane and the entire Barinholtz and Belushi family crews. As the name suggests, this is two-man improv from Jon Barinholtz and Rob Belushi, who've been cropping up all over the CIF map as of late (hosting the CIF awards, participants in Schadenfreude's Sunday night show). The show wasn't really stylized, but the actors shared a sense of play rooted in their familiarity with each other's improv. Barinholtz, in particular, consistently followed his strong comic instincts and saved a few fledgling scenes in the process.

Lurlene began the weekend's improv trend: Out-of-town groups find success in thematic improvisation; and local groups tend to do their own thing. In this case, the show was Southern flavored—the actors wore overalls and dresses, played the banjo and spoke in Southern accents. Johnny Lunchpail (photo left, courtesy of Jerry Schulman), the following group and one of the strongest sidestage ensembles I saw, had no formal transitions and peppered their show with purposeful character breaks. The work was honest, full of big choices and grounded —even during abstract moments like the ensemble miming the internal organs of one of its actors.

I caught the Josh and Tamra Show over at the mainstage (seriously, see them next time around; awesome puppet work; awesome two-person dynamic) before jetting up to the Annoyance for Messing With a Friend. Now, I've seen the show many times, but this was by far the best. Susan Messing is the ultimate scene partner—giving and loyal to the scene's integrity—and her work fueled the improv fire of Ike Barinholtz—who held his own better than anyone I've ever seen in MWAF. Hell, they did a ten minute scene about horse cock that wasn't a) over the top or b) going for cheap laughs. And Ike's parents were in the audience, so he could have easily shied away from the equine penis material. But it wouldn't have been half as funny.

There were parties going on late into the night, but I decided to head home early (by CIF standards, so like 2:45am) in preparation for Saturday. This time, the showcase was at Donny's Skybox—a space that lacked the Playground's most important attribute, BYOB. Because it was less off the beaten path, the audiences were a bit more mainstream as far as side stages are concerned. The shows played well, though, with Transactors Improv Co. doing a version of a La Ronde improv form, Cross, Ross & Tubbs mixing one-person snippets with fast-paced ensemble work and the Reckoning creating believable scenes with the greatest of ease. As I've said before, the Reckoning members are masters of the Harold form, and the only disappointing part of their show was the lack of a Harold-style opening.

Now on to UCB; or, probably more importantly, the opening group imp. There was a little, how to say it, snafu with imp's improv set. The group does abstract mime work, and operates by saying few, if any, words. Saturday night, though, they were faced with the challenge of entertaining the UCB crowd—a very daunting task. Unfortunately, the show didn't go over well, for few reasons. First off, the blackouts came too quickly; the best scene imp had went on for a bit, building momentum as one of the two main actor mimed killing the other players, and the other surrounded herself with chairs as defense. The others were short and weren't able to develop much of a point. Secondly, their style of play just didn't suit the Park West. I think just by nature of it being mainly a concert venue, the audience felt somewhat disconnected from the action—a recipe for imp failure. Give these guys another shot, though, particularly in a more intimate setting.

UCB was solidly funny, particularly because they were rolling at full capacity with Amy Poehler in tow. I somehow found myself in their dressing room after the show (not in a creepy, I've-been-hiding-in-the-closet-for-hours-waiting-for-this-moment way, though) and got wind of a party happening at I.O. It should be noted that this was not the location of the official CIF after party (Sedgwicks). So, I did what every good CIF-goer should—went to Sedgwicks for a drink or two, then rolled into IO later on. Both parties were packed; one with CIF performers and out-of-town groupies, the other with Chicago improvisers and famous people. All good things must come to an end; and when 3 am hit me like a sock in the gut, Mark Sutton donned his party-planning hat (figuratively) and led the troops (troupes?) to Carol's to close out the joint.

Sunday's Schadenfreude cover set ended the fest on a very high note, with performances of classic comedy scenes (like Mr. Show sketches and Golden Girls snippets) by performers of all ages and experience levels. It had been a long weekend (and it's been a long blog post), so I won't go into grave detail; suffice to say, hearing Pimprov do Monty Python, including the line "We are the pimps who say...ni! Ni' please!" was the funniest moment of the fest. Guess CIF 10 accomplished its goal; mixing improv styles and bringing everyone together to share in the raw joy of improvisation.