The Two Balloon Theory
I’ll be honest, I throw a lot of bulls**t metaphors when I teach (especially food analogies). One is The Two Balloon Theory which I made up 3 years ago in Wurzburg — kind of impromptu. But last year an improviser of 2nd degree to Wurzburg came up to me in Oslo and exclaimed, “You’re the balloon guy!” Apparently the balloon theory had made some rounds. So I should write about it.
Simply put, we are balloons. I am a balloon. You are a balloon. At initiation, we are two tiny points. Then as we add our names, our characters, our desires… we expand as balloons. Both balloons get bigger until they touch each other. THAT’s when the “real” scene starts.
(It makes sense this way why, as a weak rule, DON’T play strangers. Strangers are basically two distant starting points so it takes a loooooooong time before the balloons touch each other.)
But my bigger point about balloons, is that people inflate at different speeds.
This could be a matter of (under/over-)confidence, experience, second nature, or cultural. Though this is an individual thing, it is affected by culture . For example, American improv can value expanding their balloon very rapidly, whereas Asian improv may inflate more slowly.
Whatever the reason, our job is to understand how fast our partner inflates their balloon. We want the balloons in contact, and the bigger balloon controls the scene. If you pump much faster than your partner, you will suffocate them. If your partner expands very rapidly and you don’t inflate your own balloon, you get steamrolled. I think my favorite improv style is when the balloons are balanced, like Yin and Yang.
When I play Aree & a Friend, I play a 20 minute duo with a stranger. My only mission in the first few minutes is to estimate my partner’s rate of expansion. If I can read it, I’ll lock in and match it. From then on, we’re golden.
That’s it. That’s the only trick of improv you need to know.
