Technique for: Be Simple
The obvious choice is the practice of acting on your first impulse without censoring it — before the internal editor intervenes with something "better." Johnstone: "The improviser has to realise that the more obvious he is, the more original he appears."
The first-impulse principle. Your first instinct is usually the obvious one. Your second thought is the one trying to be clever. The first thought is connected to the scene. The second thought is connected to your ego. The point is not that the first thought is correct — it's that acting on it without filtering produces more alive scene work than deliberating. An obvious idea played with total commitment is more interesting than a brilliant idea played at arm's length.
The "happy birthday" test. Before delivering your offer, ask: could I say something simpler that would serve the scene just as well? The master walks in and says "Happy birthday." The beginner says "I'm a cyborg from the future here to steal your toaster." The first costs nothing to process. The second demands five minutes of exposition.
Bandwidth budgeting. Every offer has a processing cost for your partner. Complex offers (new characters, unusual premises, layered irony) are expensive. Simple offers (clear emotions, obvious relationships, grounded reactions) are cheap. Your job is to spend the shared bandwidth on connection, not on comprehension.
How to practice:
- In warm-ups, respond to every prompt with the first thing that comes to mind, even if it feels boring.
- In scenes, when you feel the urge to be clever, downgrade: what's the simplest version of this impulse?
- Notice when you're explaining rather than interacting. Exposition is a symptom of overcomplicated premises.
Obvious is not boring. Students hear "be obvious" and think "be dull." The misunderstanding: obvious means what a human would actually feel in this situation — not generic, not low-energy, not careful. "My husband left me" — the obvious response is grief, not a pun. Grief played with full commitment is riveting. Grief played carefully is boring. The variable is commitment, not the choice itself. Obvious-as-emotional-truth is interesting. Obvious-as-generic is death.
The paradox that makes this work: the obvious choice feels risky because it feels exposed. Complex choices feel safe because they have layers to hide behind. This is why Be Brave is a prerequisite — the obvious choice strips away armor. But the obvious choice leaves space for the scene to grow, while the complex choice fills the space before the scene has started.
Specific source: Johnstone, Impro, Ch. 3 ("Narrative Skills"): "No two people are exactly alike, and the more obvious an improviser is, the more himself he appears. If he wants to impress us with his originality, then he'll search out ideas that are actually commoner and less interesting." Counter-position: UCB's game framework asks improvisers to analytically identify the "first unusual thing" and frame it — a more deliberate process than "just be obvious." The tension is real: Johnstone's obviousness is felt; UCB's game is recognized. Both produce good improv through different cognitive pathways.