Sunday Worship

‘Take me to church,’ sings Hozier but I’d rather spend my Sabbath as a ComedySportz Sunday League player, writes Jennifer Banks

I’m not a religious person. I suppose I should say that’s despite my Catholic upbringing – but it’s because of my Catholic upbringing that I’m now a devout and profane heathen. But I do believe in the Improv Gods. And I have proof they exist. It happened whilst performing with the ComedySportz Sunday League at the Manchester Improv Tournament in 2014. There we were, playing Blind Line, picking bits of paper off the floor and reading out film, TV and song lines that the audience had supplied while we were out of the room. Somehow, these famous quotes fit perfectly with what was going on in the scene, much to the delight of the audience – and my own amazement. And so it came to pass, on that day, whilst holding a large mimed fish, that my spiritual conversion to the Church of Improv was complete. Amen. Or as we say in this particular sect, ‘Yes And’. That was my second performance with the Sunday League – a talented troupe of improvisers who are a bit like the kid brothers and sisters of ComedySportz Manchester’s main players. I found my way into this congregation of hilarious misfits after being a keen workshopper (notice the strange similarity between that and the word ‘worshipper’), starting with the foundation in improv then repeats of the intermediate course, which I still do… er… religiously.

Creating spontaneous moments of hilarity in front of an audience is joyous – and it’s thanks to Liz, Allyn, Vicki and the other wonderfully witty Sunday Leaguers I play with that it’s so much fun. And, of course, to the rambunctious Rachel Wareing – a founding member of ComedySportz Manchester and the Sunday League’s coach – our high priestess of funny. Now, you may consider it blasphemy for me to compare goofing around for laughs to an actual religion but improv has its own set of commandments – and they make more sense to me than all that ox coveting business.

Thou shalt listen to your fellow players. 

Thou shalt accept the ideas offered by your fellow players.

Thou shalt give and take

...these are just some of the tenets of improv that also double up as pretty good rules for life. And there’s no smiting, garrotting or burning in hell in the Sunday League either – unless it’s in a scene, of course. So, yes, I’d much rather spend my Sunday as part of the band of fools doing all that silly stuff – it’s my own little piece of heaven.

My name’s Jen and I’m an improv-aholic

ComedySportz Sunday League player and workshop stalwart Jen Banks explains why she’s hooked on improv…

There have been times in my life when I’ve drunk far too much wine, smoked far too many cigarettes and munched through far too many giant bags of Revels. I can proudly say I’m now over these habits. I can also proudly say I’ve whittled my addictions down to a number I can count on the fingers of just one hand, and only half of these – lattes and Facebook – are ones I need to kick into touch. The other two, I have no intention of ever giving up, ever – and they are yoga and improv.

Given the blog we’re on, you won’t be hearing about the benefits of the downward dog, the tree and the plough from me. Although, let’s say that for a reformed hedonist seeking more natural highs, both yoga and improv fill the gap my previous less-than-healthy pursuits have left behind.

Until volunteering to write this blog, I’d never actually sat down and pondered why I get my kicks from improv. But now I have, and I’m ready to propound a thorough, evidence-based, peer-reviewed hypothesis. Well, I’ve just done a bit of googling about laughing. And, according to a random website I’ve found, “laughter can help release endorphins and may also reduce the production of the stress hormone cortisol.” So that’s the science bit, which I’m sure any boffin reading this will corroborate. But who needs a dork in a lab coat to prove that laughing makes you feel good?

Although cracking up at the buffoonery of fellow improvisers can be habit forming, it’s not just the passive act of laughter that’s got me hooked. If it was just laughter I was after, I could plonk myself down in front of an episode of Mrs Brown’s Boys – although it’s open to debate whether I’d find it there. So, what is it then if it isn’t laughter alone? It’s stepping into the unknown, standing before an audience but having no clue what happens next. It’s like bungee jumping or sky diving – an extreme sport without the risk of actual death. And the thrill, the exhilaration, comes in the moment you and your fellow players start ‘freefalling’ into the scene – characters pop out of nowhere, a situation, a story, a game emerges – and when it all comes together and gives the audience pleasure, it’s the best feeling in the world – it’s the kind of buzz you’ll never get from chocolate confectionery with assorted centres.

Being around improv people is pretty addictive too. The fun, the laughter and the supportive mind set inevitably spill over into the social stuff. So two hours of workshops is often followed by more hilarity socialising after. You get asked questions like, “If you had a magic wand, what one thing would you wish for?” My response was the ability to eat, drink and consume anything I wanted and never have any ill health effects. Once a hedonist, always a hedonist, I guess. So thank god I’ve found a healthy way to get my kicks – improv might just be keeping me alive!