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When people think of live comedy, the first and usually only image that comes to mind is one of a solo comedian standing alone behind a microphone, offering carefully honed observations or withering satire. The term 'improv' on the other hand, often inspires a nervous clenching of the butt cheeks, calling to mind moments of derision in popular culture (see: Steve Carell in the US Office) or amateurs sweating anxiously through earnest fringe shows. In this country, the heyday of improv is still most commonly associated with Whose Line is it Anyway?, a TV show now over 30 years old. But just like the wide trousers and funky ties once sported by Ryan Stiles et al in that show, improv seems to be in vogue once more. In fact, the talk of improv being ‘cool again’, admittedly feels like the ultimate backhanded compliment. The nerdy kid at school, awkwardly being invited to high-five one of the cool kids only for it to go horribly, awkwardly wrong, yet somehow stick the landing and avoid humiliation? But also, that assessment is fair and we’ll take it. Improv, at the very least, is being taken more seriously and is being practised and enjoyed by plenty of cool people (ugh, gross). I am the founder of the improvised comedy theatre company The Free Association. Our alumni over the past few years have included the likes of Phil Wang, Ritu Arya, Munya Chawawa and Tom Burke. Amazingly talented actors and writers such as Ambika Mod, Liz Kingsman and Kayleigh Llewelyn have played on our stage and in our house teams for years. Special guests for our headline show This Doesn’t Leave the Room have recently included Amelia Dimoldenberg, Guz Khan and Jamie Laing. What’s more, shows like Kool Story Bro, fronted by Kiell Smith-Bynoe, and featuring all-star lineups of players and guests including Emma Sidi, Lola-Rose Maxwell and lil’ old me, have quickly risen to the point of packing out a thousand-seat house at the glitzy new Soho Theatre Walthamstow. For years we've operated out of a cute but ramshackle fringe theatre above a pub (where they wouldn't even let us put up signs downstairs that might spoil their aesthetic). Last week, we opened a brand new venue in Southwark, London. A sentence I was starting to feel I’d never write. It’s a real venue too! It’s not a room above a pub, it has two floors and a bar and it’s all ours. And it’s not a pop up! It’s going to be there forever, probably, or at least as long as the Globe round the corner. In 400 years time, cultural historians (cryogenically frozen heads in hovering jars?) will only be able to speculate as to why, in improv shows, we’d occasionally tap each other on the shoulders, or do a little jog in front of the scene. No one will know, but the improvisers of the future will still be doing it, night after night with crowds of their friends, on stage and off. Am I a little bit excited about opening a brand new, central London comedy venue with improv at its heart? Yes. Yes I am. But I’m not just personally excited because this has been the culmination of an 11 year journey with the Free Association - I’m excited because of what I think this means for improv broadly, but also for comedy and, dare I say, culture and community in London. All this is to say that yes, improv might look like it’s been having a glow up, but the underlying value of opening a new theatre is of so much more importance. Cultural spaces in London are under threat. Clubs have been closing at an alarming rate. At the same time, isolation and alienation brought on by chronic social media use and the looming threat of an AI-haunted dystopian future are combining to paint a bleak vision for humanity. Spaces where people - actual weird human people - can come together, can commune are increasingly rare, but increasingly necessary. What’s more, a space that centres on joy and laughter and positivity, all the qualities that are the bedrock of improv comedy, can only be a truly good thing. After all improv doesn’t just create community, it can help teach how to create community: through teamwork, listening, and saying ‘yes’. When people look at improv, it might be easy to point to the fact that more famous people are doing it as a reason for its success. But I think this is the wrong way round. It’s successful because regular, nice, kind, creative, funny people get obsessed with it, creating a kind, creative, funny space that famous people want to be involved in. The strength of its success has always been rooted in that joyful and pure sense of connection, of being in the moment; a moment that disappears as quickly as it arrives but is always followed by another one because that’s what the thing is and it’s pretty damn life-affirming. That’s what I think anyway. Maybe I’m deluded, but who cares? I just opened a comedy venue in London and I’m going back there tonight to do another sold out show with some of my best friends. I can’t wait. The Free Association is now open at Arch 26, Old union yard arches, London SE1 0LR. Tickets for all shows are available from https://www.thefreeassociation.co.uk.
