Can’t think of a better way to spend the first Sunday of 2015 than by teaching my Python Process class at the iO Chicago. I get to combine two of my faves–Monty Python and comedy writing. It’s a great group, and I can tell already we’re going to have to a great eight weeks! @montypython
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…Chicago-area comedy fans may be interested to hear that I will be coming to the iO Chicago for what may be an annual event: my Python Process writing class. The official announcement should be coming soon, but the last one filled up awfully quickly, and I want everyone who has been following this to get a fair shot at it. It’s going to be fun for fans of Python, comedy, and you’ll hopefully even learn something about how the Pythons managed to create all of their great material through rewriting and collaboration. I really enjoy teaching this class, as it’s a great way to combine my two loves–Monty Python and improvisational comedy. Michael McCarthy has done an amazing job putting together the writing program at the iO Chicago, and I’m delighted to be a part of it!
For a very limited time, I suggest you jump on over to their web site, give them a call, and tell ’em you are a John Cleese fan. You’re welcome.
I spent the weekend substitute teaching for Michael McCarthy's writing classes at the iO. Here, I'm showing the Sketch-writing class Monty Python's Joke Warfare/Funniest Joke in the World Sketch as we study editing (an appropriate choice on the Python anniversary weekend, I thought). This was my first time teaching in the new building, and I'm still amazed just walking into the place. I always have to think back to the crumbling, barely building-code legal Crosscurrents cabaret, where the iO (then ImprovOlympic) first started; to say it's come a long way is hugely underestimating it. I highly recommend anyone in the Chicago area stop by for first-class improvisation (or, in the case of Dave and TJ's Mission Theatre, first-class sketch comedy), and stick around for drinks and dinner as well. It's only been a couple of months in the new building, but it's fast becoming a landmark. In fact, it's the Great Wall of China of Improvisation. Go now and thank me later.
A couple of hours ago, I glanced at the Chicago Tribune’s weekly obituaries and noticed that of Theodore J. Flicker. I thought to myself “Not many of the founding fathers of improv are left. Thank goodness we still have Sheldon…”
And now, we don’t.
If one were making a list of the most beloved figures in Chicago improv, Sheldon would be right up there, and deservedly so. His lineage goes way back to the Playwright’s Theatre Club, which was the forerunner of the Compass Players, which was the forerunner of Second City.
I’ll leave it to others to tell about his lengthy history and contributions to Chicago theatre (which included authoring The Second City book). Instead, I’ll tell a little about my first experience with Sheldon.
I was writing my biography of Del Close, The Funniest One in the Room, a while back, interviewing everyone I could find. But I hadn’t interviewed Sheldon. Everyone had warned me that the two of them hadn’t…well, they hadn’t been the best of friends. I was reluctant to look him up because I didn’t want to hear a lot of Del bashing. But finally, after dozens of people had told me to “Call Sheldon!”, I relented.
We set up a time to talk, and I prepared for the inevitable Del-bashing. Which never came.
Sheldon couldn’t have possibly been nicer. It’s true, he told me, Del never liked him, but he never knew why. And he went on to tell me story after story of his experiences with the man–possibly the only person in Chicago–who didn’t like him. In fact, at one point it was Sheldon’s job to haul Del from what the latter called “the nut house” to Second City, and back again. Yet he couldn’t have been nicer about it. By the time he had finished, I was horrified and embarrassed that Del had abused this wonderful gentleman so badly.
And after that, I was a first-class fan of Sheldon. We didn’t see each other often, but I’m tickled to say that he was a fan of my writing, and even turned up at a Columbia College panel on Del a couple of years ago. He was looking forward to my book on The Committee, and I am further horrified to note that I still haven’t finished it. But I will. Somewhere, Sheldon is waiting to read it.
Bob Odenkirk has come a long way since the days when we used to improvise together under the tutelage of Del Close. In addition to Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, Fargo, Mr. Show, and a whole slew of other credits, he has agreed to interview John Cleese on November 20th in San Diego, where John will be promoting his autobiography, So Anyway… If I were you, and I was anywhere in that neck of the woods at that time, I’d get my tickets now…
…Not many people who are improvising today know of the importance of Theodore J. Flicker, which is a shame. In fact, among his other many accomplishments, he was the director of the St. Louis Compass Players, directing Del Close, Mike Nichols, Elaine May, Nancy Ponder, and the rest of the cast.
How important was he? Well, it was he and Elaine May who devised what are now known as the legendary Westminster Place Kitchen Rules, developed separately from Viola Spolin’s improv rules but just as important and influential.
After each performance of the St. Louis Compass, Ted and Elaine would sit down to analyze what worked, what didn’t, and how it could be improved. Then the group would rehearse and put the rules into action each night in front of an audience. The rules that Del taught, from “Yes and…” on down, all came about from the work of Ted and Elaine.
The list of his credits is very long (he co-created Barney Miller, for one). If you have a minute, imdb him and be impressed.
And now Theodore J. Flicker (as Del always referred to him) is gone. If you improvise, you owe him more than you probably know.
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