off the balcony into the arms of the students. They dropped me.
"In order to give them the impression that they were not failures, I climbed up again and jumped off a second time. They dropped me again. I found out shortly after that one of those falls had broken my collarbone!" he laughs.
Fortunately, most "trust exercises" end far more successfully. Broken bones aside, falling off a platform doesn't even come close to the fear an actor feels when he realizes he is not being supported in a scene by his fellow players. That chilling realization is more like jumping out of a plane and realizing your parachute is still on board.
Support and trust go hand-in-hand for performers; they must trust that their fellow players will support them. The only star in improv is the ensemble itself; if everyone is doing his job well, then no one should stand out. The best way for an improviser to look good is by making his fellow players look good.
When former Second City and ImprovOlympic actor David Pasquesi won a Chicago award for performing, he accepted it by saying, "Our job is to make the others look good. By getting this award, I guess I'm not doing my job. I'll try harder next time!"
If the ensemble members commit 100 per cent to the group there will be no mistakes on stage.
"I don't see how any actor could not do that," says Chris Farley, emphasizing the importance of the actor committing to his scene. "What else could they do? That's what they're doing. They're on the stage for that purpose. Anything else is not giving 100 per cent, and if that's what you really want to do, then give 100 per cent."
Farley recalls that Michael Myers (his future Saturday Night Live co-star) was a performer in the very first Harold he ever saw, and was impressed at the way Myers and the others were so committed to the work that they were able to take chances during the show which they otherwise couldn't have.
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"I remember watching Mike and being truly in awe of how everything evolved from a mere suggestion," remembers Farley. "Mike was able to use the audience quite a bit, going out into the audience and not being limited by the space on the stage, tackling any idea. Del talks about stepping off the cliff, and Mike is one that definitely steps off the cliff and takes a chance — takes many chances. He initiated and furthered the Harold to depths unknown — it was really amazing."
When performers truly commit to a scene, they take care of each other. Whenever someone makes what appears to be a mistake on stage, the others will immediately justify it and weave it into the pattern of the entire work. More often than not, those "mistakes" become valuable contributions to the piece. The entire ensemble winds up looking brilliant because, like the Sufi weaver, they acknowledge mistakes and incorporate them into the larger work to add extra texture and depth.
In other words, justify! If a scene fails because a player makes a wrongmove the whole group must share the blame if they didn't justify the move. Each improviser shares a small portion of responsibility for the piece on stage. They must focus their concentration on the work of the group — not the work of any individual.
One other approach, according to Del, is to attack the stage — advice which Chris Farley took to heart during his very first improv class with Del.
"I got up there and tried to impress him with as much sweat and blood as I knew how, because that's all I had," says Farley. "I just went up there with as much physical movement as I could, because that's all I knew. I could do physical movement because I played football. Maybe I was too aggressive because I was nervous.
"I remember reading that Del told John Belushi to attack the stage, and so I tried to attack the stage like Belushi. He said 'Settle down, son! You're sweating too hard. You're like the guys they strap to the front of a battleship when they go into battle — fearless, but you have to have some control,