Improv Day
By Seán Mullan
(From the October - December 2020 issue of VOX)
Groundhog Day is a 1990s Hollywood romantic comedy. The main character is a TV weatherman called Phil, played by Bill Murray. Phil is rude, arrogant, egocentric and radiates disdain for everyone else. Phil is sent to the town of Punxsutawney in Pennsylvania to report on Groundhog Day, February 2. Both Punxsutawney and Groundhog Day are, I have discovered, real.
The film shows Phil going through the day with his usual blend of arrogance and contempt. At the end of the day he and his crew get blocked in by a blizzard and have to spend another night in Punxsutawney, much to Phil’s disgust. Next morning Phil wakes to discover it is still February 2 and he has to re-live Groundhog Day again. Everyone else behaves as though this is the first time; only Phil is aware that he is reliving it.
The film cycles through the same day dozens of times. Phil gets ruder with each day. Eventually he learns that he can do what he likes since, no matter what he does, he will be back where he started next morning. He thumps people, seduces a woman, robs a bank, wrecks cars, kidnaps the groundhog, all with no consequences. Slowly a shift occurs. The reason? Well it’s Hollywood, so inevitably it’s a woman. Phil starts to be attracted to his colleague Rita. At first all he wants to do is get her in bed. But as he cycles through the days and learns more about her, he begins to care for her. His behaviour changes. He begins to use his knowledge of how the day will unfold to help people in different ways.
And it’s hardly a plot-spoiler to reveal a predictable Hollywood ending. Phil and Rita lived happily ever after in Punxsutawney.
There are times when our days feel like Groundhog Days. Lockdown produced a daily rhythm for many that was so repetitive we had to check the phone to know which day it was. But even on the most boringly repetitive days, none of us knows what others will do or say, what circumstances might arise, and even what we might do or say. The possibility of living a day over again might look like a great offer at the end of certain days. It would be like those “change your mind” clauses you get when you purchase something expensive. Imagine having this option each night, “How was today? Are you happy with it or would you like to do it over again tomorrow?”
One day, I’d like to make a film called “Improv Day.” Improv or improvisation is a form of theatre where actors go on stage without lines, without a plot and not knowing how it’s going to go. The idea is that they work off each other and that together they produce a unique piece of theatre, a one-off performance. They literally make it up as they go. They’ll never do the same thing again. My “Improv Day” storyline would feature two people going through one day, facing the expected and the unexpected and doing their best to deal with each situation before moving on to what’s next. I know that’s any day for most people.
“How was today? Are you happy with it or would you like to do it over again tomorrow?”
“Improv Day” would likely be one of those serious art films where you admire the cinematography and the acting while you wait for something unusual to happen. It would be so close to normal life I’d never persuade anyone to make it. You couldn’t call it “reality TV” either. In real reality, there are no cameras recording what you do.
In real reality, every day is “Improv Day”. No one knows what it will deliver or how we will respond. Even in lockdown, days didn’t always go as expected. Who would have planned to have that row? Or make that comment that was clearly a mistake before it reached the full stop?
The wisest man there ever was once said: “Don’t worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will worry about itself.” Worrying about tomorrow or next week, next month next year is daft for two reasons. It will not change tomorrow one iota. And, more importantly, worrying about tomorrow stops you giving today the attention it needs and deserves.
Rule number one of Improv is “Everyone on stage is a genius.” When it comes to real life everyone you will meet in your day is a genius at being themselves. In my worse moments, I reflect that it’s a pity that people are so bad at being like me. If only more people could behave more like me. But then I watch my son, a great mimic, “being me” for a few moments to realise how bad that would be.
We are each geniuses at being ourselves. And today is our improv day. Your role is to be you; mine to be me. Forget tomorrow; pay attention to what today is dishing up. There’s a lot to be learned. Unlike Phil, we won’t get a second chance.
Seán Mullan has been working in church leadership for many years. He has developed a project in Dublin City Centre called “Third Space”.
