Auckland improv actors making it up as they go

By SANDRA DEMPSTER

Theatresports actors Irene Malone and Lori Dungey have been wanted by Die Gorillas for three years. Over the past fortnight, they've finally been able to work with the Berlin improv theatre organisation, along with their accomplice, Greg Cooper.

For 10 days, the team of three, best known as Theatresports Auckland, have been taking part in IMPRO 2004, Die Gorillas' Fourth International Festival for Improvised Theatre, which wound up on Sunday and in which 10 countries were represented.

Persistent invitations from Die Gorillas arose after a meeting at a Seattle theatresports festival in 2000, but the trio were too busy to attend.

"We asked them if they wanted someone else," says Malone.

"We want you," was the determined answer. So determined, in fact, that Die Gorillas ignored the lack of funding from any official New Zealand avenue - all other countries responded to requests for assistance - and donated around 10 per cent of their budget to get the team over.

Aside from workshopping every day, running a public workshop, and performing their own show, Theatresports Auckland are performing in several other shows as guest players, splitting up the team to cover as many venues as possible. IMPRO 2004 runs seven stages and the team estimates that around 5000 Berliners will have seen the Kiwis perform by the end of the season.

The festival is an opportunity for actors to exchange ideas and techniques peculiar to improvised theatre.

"That's why we do workshopping," says Malone. "To cross-pollinate you need contact with the wider community."

The multilingual factor brings another challenging dimension - on opening night one piece simultaneously used Spanish and Turkish, with German translations of the dialogue. All this within the spontaneous playing parameters elicited from the audience.

Auckland Theatresports' Kiwiana show took place in the packed Ratibor Theatre on Monday. Designed for a German audience without fluent English, and as much cultural ambassadorship as theatre, the show opened with a haka borrowed from Auckland Normal Intermediate School in Mt Eden, where Malone teaches. The audience then learned a Maori action song - Whakarongo, titiro, korero - with the words written on big pieces of paper held up in front of them.

The audience enthusiastically did the actions from their seats. And then, in great theatresports tradition, an elicitation to action ...

"Who'd like to come to New Zealand?"

Nobody moved. It's a common phenomenon - Germans pay a lot for their theatre and concert seats, and tend to stay in them.

Everyone laughed, says Malone, but still nobody moved, even with bribes of special prizes and lots of free beer.

So Dungey, in the persona of "Doris", a drought-plagued farm owner who needs German tourists at the homestay, went out into the auditorium to nab someone.

She found the bespectacled Ralf, who proved to be somewhat slow on the uptake. He eventually had some nice moments shearing Greg the sheep's armpit with Doris' hand, but didn't make it to crotching. That's showbiz.

The Berliners loved it, particularly with opportunities to laugh at themselves being characterised as rich, dictionary-clutching, hiking, smoking tourists. The team worked in some well-received self-deprecation, with an ingenious traditional "myth" about how the kiwi lost its wings. I didn't know the story about Maui and the skitey kiwi having a bet over who was best at flying before ...

In the second half, along with guest players from Holland, Canada and Germany, the nine-hour epic Lord of the Microsoft USB Memory Stick was rendered in a blinding 45 minutes, and had people whooping helplessly with mirth. Ralf headed home with a big bag of Kiwiana goodies, saying he had had one of the best nights of his life.

Although Dungey says improv is not regarded as "real acting" in New Zealand, improv and Theatresports Auckland are certainly taken seriously in Berlin.

But I tell a lie. Everybody who left the theatre or went to the bar afterwards wore huge smiles on their faces. That's the great thing about Theatresports. Everyone wins.