On finding your place in improv: Scott Driscoll

I’ve been a huge fan of comedy ever since I can remember. I saw Billy Connolly and Robin Williams specials on TV and dozens of cassettes of various stand-up artists that I would play until they wore out. I would hire the VHS tapes of comedy specials and record the sound so I could play them on my Walkman later. When there was a variety show on TV I’d be enraptured by the rare comedy artists and bored by the musical acts. I always thought that I would give it a go one day.

In 2010 and my lovely wife and family chipped in and bought me a Stand-up Comedy course. I went along each week and listened attentively, engaged with the teacher and my classmates, and built a tight five (it was a sloppy seven, if I’m honest). I did my classes and grad show, but the whole time feeling like this was not my voice and that something was missing. The rules and structure didn’t feel freeing the way watching comedy did to me.

Around that time, a good friend had invited us to see a radio-style, pulp adventure superhero stage show called Fists of Fury, but it was totally improvised. Honestly, I wasn't sure what to expect. I’d seen Whose Line, and Theatresports on the ABC in the 80s and I’d done some impro as part of high school Drama taught by a frustrated Kenneth Brannagh type.  I didn’t really have high hopes.

But I was blown away. Here were people making up a genre story on the spot. It looked freeing and fun and at the same time both unbelievably easy and mind-bogglingly impossible. I felt that it was the joy I wanted from my comedy; one that spoke to me more than doing stand up.

I went to all the remaining shows (and started dressing up in costumes) and after a while, I decided to take the plunge.  Since I walked into that first class I haven't looked back and over the last decade, I have performed interstate and overseas, finding new fun and friends along the way. 

While I have dabbled with stand up since, and continue to act and host major events (all greatly improved by my impro, by the way), impro remains my true love.  It helps me remember the kid who fell in love with comedy surrounded by his bootleg tapes, finding joy with each new discovery.