We’ve been putting off writing this blog for some time. We think about biscuits every minute of the day and when you are writing a blog with ‘biscuit’ actually in the title it is nigh on impossible to ignore the crippling biscuit lust-cramps.
Well, we can’t put it off any longer. Just for you, we’ll work through the stomach anguish and we only ask that you send emergency biscuits to us immediately. Royal Mail recorded post, please.
Of course, a biscuit is obviously a biscuit and there is nothing stopping you calling a biscuit a biscuit, but in the world of improv a biscuit is never just a biscuit, if that makes sense? A biscuit is a Custard Cream, a Bourbon, a couple of Cadbury’s Chocolate Fingers, an Orange Club, a Viscount or a Chocolate Digestive.
At this point we would like to categorically say that under no circumstances should an improvisor refer to a biscuit as a Jaffa Cake. These are obviously ‘cakes’ and should be referred to as such. If you disagree, you should find a mirror and take a long hard look at yourself.
It’s good to be specific
You will hear quite a lot in comedy improv that it is good to be specific. Hence the reason why a biscuit isn’t really referred to as a biscuit in improv. It’s a Ginger Nut or a Jammy Dodger. There are a couple of reasons for this.
Firstly, it paints a vivid picture for the audience. Your brain can visualise immediately what a Custard Cream looks like. The chances are so can most of the audience. They will know straightaway what one of these tasty beauties looks like, feels like, smells like and tastes like. It is a shared experience that connects what you are improvising with the audience’s everyday experiences, and which will bring your improvisation to life.
Secondly, more often than not, being specific makes people laugh. It may be because the audience can put that visualised Custard Cream straight into the scene and there is that immediate connection and recognition; “Oh, I eat those!”. It may be because the Custard Cream has popped up in the most unexpected of circumstances. Possibly in space, Renaissance France or Stoke. Who knows? It could just be a mystical magic trick that the universe created to give us little sparks in time, a laugh! Whatever the reason, it’s good to bear in mind when improvising.
Thirdly, it can be a gift to your scene partner. Being specific can trigger memories, experiences and ideas that your scene partner can use to progress and bring the scene to life. It can be a hook to hang the scene on or build into a game within the scene.
It’s more than just a getaway car for bank robbers
For example, your bank robbers do not want to just get into a getaway car. They want to burst out of the bank with the cash and bundle into a Ford Cortina, a Porsche 911, a Honda Civic, a Citroen Picasso or a Nissan Leaf.
If it was a Nissan Leaf, then you can make the all-electric car run out of charge not even 100 metres down the road. Your bank robbers can then argue over who forgot to plug in the Nissan Leaf before going to bed last night, which could then develop into a heart-to-heart about who does most of the chores around the hideout. Who unloads the dishwasher, dries the tupperware and puts out the bins?
Being specific pretty much works for everything. Do not just buy a house. Buy a two-bed semi with a conservatory and south-facing garden from an estate agent in Brighton. You are not on holiday. You are on an all-inclusive fortnight static caravan safari adventure in East Anglia.
Also, if you can drop in brand names too that is a bonus. Do not just go to the shop to buy sweets. Go to the Co-op to buy a Mars Bar. And if you cannot think of any brand names then just make them up. We like to sit in the garden and dunk a McPatio Nut Shed® into our Sparrow Tea® before running to Albert’s One-Stop Shop® in our Daffodil Trainers®.
Right, we’re off to put the kettle on and eat so many Bourbons that we get the Bourbon sweats.
The Oickers 