You ever have that nightmare that you’re back in high school and your teachers are telling you quieten down in assembly? There’s a split-second of fear before you realise the absurdity of the situation. Of course you’re not in school. You have a job, you put this behind you so long ago, but it’s so nice to reminisce.

That’s exactly the energy that Gab Raz and Guanny Liu-Prosee bring to their NZ Improv Festival Show; Making Up Grades.

The show flaunts youth improv talent from four schools in the Wellington region. It’s a delight to watch and a wonderfully optimistic preview of what improv has in store for the years ahead.

Principal Raz sets the tone immediately with a strong clap that compels the long-abandoned student inside every audience member to listen. She refers to this event as an assembly, and we’re immediately on-board with the concept. Liu-Prosee is introduced as a firm-but-fair referee, and whilst it’s initially jarring to see her immediately disappear backstage, this short investment into her character pays massive dividends as the show goes on. Sam Irwin is, himself, unseen but the whip-quick lighting changes are a signature you can’t ignore. Liam Kelly rounds out the ‘teachers’ crew on the keyboard with his high energy tunes and joie-de-vibes that tickle the lot of us in the front row.

Three students from four schools (Aotea, Onslow, Newlands and Rāroa) are introduced and you wouldn’t believe it’s some of these kids’ first time on a stage like this. Some are in uniform, others are in matching clothes, and others get by on similar vibes. All are delightful to watch take the centre in the first round of the show:

Numeracy

Each school is challenged to a randomly picked game from the blackboard. Raz continues to MC, throwing out suggestions as required, and Liu-Prosee is constantly vigilant, calling out any rule breaches for the games (or encouraging shyer teams to shift to the front of the stage) without ever disrupting the pace of the show. It’s the solid type of second story that sells the audience on the idea that this is a school assembly, and my word does it capture our attention.

One by one, the teams take the stage, and the difference between each of them is so stark, it’s impossible not to talk about each one individually.

Aotea

Lucy, Epiny and Eleanor excel at playing the games they are given. They vibe with their limits at all times, executing perfectly on the premises of their games. It’s impressive to see this level of discipline in such a young trio. From darting around the stage to justify their changing emotions, to picking and reacting beautifully to fixed lines in a School Journal, they always feel like they’re in control. Most importantly, they listen out for each other and have fizzing on-stage chemistry that brings every scene to life. 10/10

Onslow

Grayson, Elliot and Klara are an absolute killer trio, and it’s impossible to not laugh at their constant in-character banter with each other. They feel like they’re right in their comfort zone, pushing the narrative of each scene forward, and trust that their team will have their backs. They’re confident in what they have to say, even if it’s suggesting the use of a saw in dentistry or using lasagna as a metaphor for calling your classmate a dick. That confidence will take them far. 10/10

Newlands

Will, Luka and Charlotte are such inventive performers that I was constantly in stitches watching them make offers to each other. They’re just so bold and the way they’re all able to hold their ground and never get in each other’s way is nothing short of amazing. It’s a mime box trap, it’s a father purchasing a cake on lay-by, it’s a body-switching Shakespeare. Through time. I don’t even believe they know what’s about to come out of their mouths and honestly, that’s where some of the best improv comes from. 10/10

Rāroa

Emma L., Emma S. and Libby are hectic, flashy and masters at playing up the games as opposed to actually playing them. It’s hilarious. They, like Aotea, understand the boundaries of their assigned games, but they choose to push them, bend them and break them. Why not simply blurt out ‘Quesadilla’? Why not tell an audience member they’re not going to get the job they applied for? There’s no reason to do so, but there’s no reason not to either. So they do. It’s fantastic. 10/10

Literacy

After a gem of a school song, the students are invited to perform scenes based on suggestions that audience members have loaded into a hat. Schools are mixed up and the scenes begin. This is where chaos is unleashed.

Performers talk over each other, walk on stage when they’re not needed, respond ‘I don’t know’ to offers that were made as questions. All the sorts of things you do when you’re first starting out on your improv journey.

I’m a little worried that they’re overthinking, or the nerves are catching up to them. Perhaps they simply haven’t mixed that much between schools prior to the show.

Then we hit a turning point.

A performer receives the ask-for of an iPod Shuffle. They have no idea what it is. They discard the ask-for.

Now, yes, it would have technically been the ‘right’ move to take the offer and base a scene on whatever they believed an iPod Shuffle to be. Yes, refusing an ask-for is considered taboo in some improv circles. And yes, it could potentially take away engagement from whichever audience member had submitted that prompt.

But yeeting that ask-for killed me, along with everyone else over 25. Liu-Prosee yells at how old she now feels. Friends of the performers ponder the necessity of a separate device only for music. The dynamic of this segment has completely changed. We are old, and they are young.

It. Is. Delightful.

We’re all reminded of how young these kids really are. They’re not joking when they say that 2011 was a lifetime ago. We’re (mostly) adults here, looking in at these students performing for the first time, making mistakes, learning, getting back up, and trying again. One student gets her phone confiscated by Principal Raz after her Duolingo alarm goes off. She laughs it off, they all do.

They’re taking joy in failure and turning it into something beautiful, the same way we used to before we decided who we were. They’re being unapologetically themselves and reminding us of when we were in their shoes, sitting in assemblies and figuring out what worked for us. That’s the power of youth, and whilst none of us get to hold onto it for very long, the students of Aotea, Onslow, Newlands and Rāroa are wielding it to bring us a show that is perfectly imperfect, and a joy to be a part of.

What Raz, Liu-Prosee, Kelly and their students have created here reminds us that the best part of both youth and improv is that it’s fleeting. What feels so real in the moment vanishes so quickly. And now you’re old. You have a job, you put this behind you so long ago, but it’s so nice to reminisce.

Disclosure: As a somewhat active member of the Wellington improv community, I am quite familiar with some of the performers in this show.
Having said that, I am not a liar, and there is zero bias in my reviews, shut up.