Shakespeare said it in Hamlet: Brevity is the Soul of Wit. He was of course completely correct. My own experience of this proverb being true came in a both brilliant yet highly embarassing moment during my training.
It happened at the beginning of my Foundation Degree at Northbrook College, we were being brought together as a year group all the cross discipline classes, from dance, musical theatre, physical theatre and acting groups. The idea of these workshops were for us to bond and get comfortable working with different skill sets. One of the workshops was clowning, we had to look at the basics of both physical clowning and the relationship between historical clowns and the stereotypical modern view of clowns. Then after the first workshop we had to go away and create our own clown, create a persona a costume and a physical style. My clown was very much in my mind a mish mash tramp in the same type of vein as Charlie Chaplin, I really wish I could clown like the master Chaplin, except this tramp wore an army helmet. Dressed in a torn and worn M&S blazer, dirty and scuffed jeans, broken trainers and an army helmet plus a red nose I did look amusing I suppose but at the time I thought it was a good costume. The persona came from my knowledge of how pro wrestlers, another form of clown in my mind [article on such beliefs coming soon], who were really effective created their characters as enlarged versions of their own personas. For me that was the way to go and so I boosted the one aspect of my personality I believed was detrimental to a clown but by making it my main trait it would subvert the concept of an outgoing clown. So I became a shy, shrinking wallflower of a clown. I wouldn't talk unless spoken too, I would try to stay out of things and I would always be watching with intent. It worked and I felt the workshops were going well and I was learning and gaining confidence in my physical acting. Then our tutor told us we had to come up with an act for an audition to get our clowns into his metaphorical circus act. I had one thought going through my head and it was panic.
I can spin plates, juggle balls and even clubs (although I am quite rusty) so it was a question of what to do. I went into the audition questioning myself as to whether I could continue with my character or not and when it was my turn to go up out of the room and re-enter with my 'bit' I literally had no idea what I was going to do. I was outside waiting to knock on the door when inpiration hit. I knocked on the door strolled in and said...
"Excuse me, is this the room for the job interview regarding the caretakers position?"
Light confused laughter broke out and the tutor played along by saying no. So I sighed and replied.
"Terribly sorry about that, thank you though" and promptly walked out the room to bigger laughs and a round of applause. I felt like I was walking on air and when I went outside I felt emboldened enough to go back in and continue with another bit of 'comedy'. This atrocious bit was me auditioning and saying what I do not do, basically saying that I turn up dressed as a clown and that was my act. This time there were no laughs and it wasn't clever. I could feel myself dying as I tried to get my peers to laugh or find me amusing at least. Instead I felt that death knell of comedic acting and writing, apathy. It was just flowing and people looked bored. I then got my feedback from tutor. He told me that the gag about the job interview was a perfect clowning gag and that was all I needed to do. It was then I found out that brevity truly is the soul of wit. Shakespeare was right 400 years ago and today he is still right... is there anything this man couldn't do?
So remember, why try a long and convoluted piece when a short sharp and funny piece of comedy will work better? I learnt the hard and humiliating way, you don't have to.
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