There’s something unbelievably delicious about the ten minutes leading up to an Impro Melbourne performance. We’re back stage – warms up done, stage set, preparations made – and we’re waiting for that tune that tells us it’s almost time to play. Our scorekeeper and host for the evening Amy Moule is pacing back stage, muttering to herself so she doesn’t forget the things she needs to cover.
The crowd is coming in and we listen as they take their seats. There’s an added level of excitement because this is Maestro, the show where there can ‘be only one’, and we know that means an extra level of mischief and cheeky fun. We’ve got an ongoing challenge to try to have at least three scenes scored the lowest score of 1, and we’ve failed every week. Is this the week we’ll manage it?
We’ve all got our numbers – this week I’m sporting the number 2. The music comes on. Amy steps out and all her pacing and muttering pays off. The players get called out on stage. And the fun begins.
My first scene is a solo – always an inspiring and fun challenge – and I get to wear the face of my favourite hero, Xena (don’t judge me) and rally the troops to battle. There’s a woman in the back of the audience that cheers and I don’t know who she is, but she gives me an awesome extra kick of energy.
Don’t ask me to remember the scenes in their order. That’s the glory of impro. It’s a one off and we’ll never see that show or those scenes ever again. What stays with me afterwards are the images. A sinner confessing to a nun whose face ends up pressed between her ample bosoms. A poem game that I fluff and the word ‘strath’ thereby being invented. An evil alien dad trying to convince his son to take up the family business. Rik Brown dazzling us all with a blues-rap-opera-reggae challenge. We even manage to get our lights-improviser Oren down on stage for a go.
In the end, it comes down to Jenny and Rik who go head to head (literally) in a hat-game to determine who will be the last one standing and our Maestro for the night. It’s delightful, tense fun and Jenny Lovell wins it with a final hat-snatch and gets the Maestro five-dollar note.
It is an immensely fun night on stage but what makes it all worth it afterwards are the looks on the faces of the audience as they file out; their big grins and happy eyes testament to the fact we’ve done our job for another week.
Dammit though, those three 1’s are still elusive. Ah well… there’s always next week. ;)
Congratulations to week 4 Maestro Jenny Lovell!