When Wellington’s improv group Best on Tap gathered to mark their 10^th anniversary, they mused on where they were a decade ago, wondered what they’d each be up to in another 10 years – and presto! A new improv format was born.

Two slips of paper are handed to each audience member on arrival at BATS Dome. On the blue one we complete, “Ten years ago I was …” and on the orange one, “Ten years from now I will be …” These audience ‘ask-fors’ will spark the subsequent hour of ‘truth-based theatrical improv’ that Best on Tap specialises in.

Sebastian Morgan-Lynch on cello sets the tone with a few bars of ‘In the Mood’ and augments each sketch that follows with subtle and sometimes surprising soundscapes. On lights, D’ Woods is also alert and responsive to what evolves spontaneously.

This opening night troupe is Barry Miskimmin, Nicola Pauling, Mary Little, Kate Whitaker and Tim Croft – and the line-up will vary over the next few nights. The five blue slips they draw from the basket set them up with: Ten years ago I was: living with my parents / Writing yet another funding application / Discovering myself / Learning swearing at primary School / Dressed as a banana in New York.

Nicola, as Jen, struggles with frustration that morphs into anger as she tries to find the right word for the funding application. When Mary, as Alice, tries to soothe her with coffee, she’s treated to an “I’m over it and out of here” rant which no amount of pleading can reverse. This showcases improv’s basic ‘yes and’ rule at a sophisticated level, where the players agree to disagree productively.

Primary School Principal Dan Jones (Barry) has called in Pauline (Kate) and Gary – “call me Gazza” (Tim) to discuss their Year 2 son Timothy’s swearing. Professional pleasantries soon give way to parental passion in defence of their child which provokes revelations about the school’s avowed values.

Fiona (Mary), setting a table for three, turns out to be the 29 year-old daughter of the Mum (Kate) and Dad (Barry) with who she still lives at home. As they try to be positive about their only child’s ‘Sunday roast’ of tofu lamb with real vegetables, her pathological inability to complete job interviews, let alone find her ‘sensual self’ with a partner she’ll leave home for, tests their patience. Thwarted in their dream of travelling to India when she left home, have they sealed their own fate with over-positive parenting?

Barry mounts one of the red utility boxes to become Maurice the Banana Man, spruiking fresh fruit in the Big Apple. He’s trying to maintain an American accent when his cellphone rings, causing a well-mimed kerfuffle as he extracts it from his back pocket. It’s his sister, Jacqui (Nicola) on FaceTime – so Maurice pretends he’s off to a fancy-dress party …

Jack (Tim) is having trouble re-discovering himself, having not yet discovered himself, despite the ministrations of his Therapist (Mary). They try visualisation using a kaleidoscope-like device but he can only see white light, prompting him to ask, “Am I dead?” She signs him up for three sessions week for the rest of his life, affirming that in due course, when it feels safe for both of them, they will get naked.

The randomly selected aspirations for “Ten years from now I will be …” are: Watching my grandchildren on my farm / Walking on the moon / Making Self-replicating robots to take over the world / Discovering a new species of mermaid / A published author.

My notes tell me ‘Simeon’ chooses “Watching my grandchildren on my farm”. And that’s all I have. Mental blank – or was that it? The remaining sequence of sketches revisits the earlier characters ten years on from ten years ago (i.e. now).

Jack has been ‘discovering himself’ through world travel and nudity, accompanied by his Therapist because she is “the most trusted person in you life” – and now he decides her a fool for listening to her because he’s nothing special, “Just ordinary Jack.”

Jacqui finds her brother Maurie living in Sicily running an Air B&B. It’s such an idyllic setting, she can see why he never came home, so missed her wedding, the birth of his nephew … She also rubs it in that he never made it in Hollywood. He confesses that while making fruit commercials earned him enough to buy this place in the cheapest part of the Mediterranean, he never returned to NZ because he had failed to realise his dream. They seek reconciliation over a pizza.

Having randomly picked “I will be under water, literally and figuratively” from the basket, Pauline and Gazza sip champagne in a jacuzzi while they recall their swearing child – who is no longer alive. Was it their fault?

Fiona’s parents visit her at her place of business – apparently thriving. He husband owns a Porche and is clearly spendthrift. There’s a sense all is not well. The parents share their photos from India … When Fiona reveals she wants to move back home, they resist – “Why do you like us so much?” she claims she wants to look after them in their old age. They become focused on making her realise they still have sex.

Jen has become a rock star and is warming up for a performance when Alice avails herself of her backstage pass. They work through a reconciliation that reveals they have daughter who think it’s rad having a feminist icon for a mother. (I had thought it was a creative organisation Jen had walked out on.) All is forgiven with a passionate kiss.

All the above is detailed in order to prove how well Best on Tap lives up to its mission to root their improv in human experiences that truly reflect the lives we live and observe. From tahi to tekau they have developed skills that ensure their spontaneous shows will always be engaging.

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