5 TAKE IMPROVISATION ON A WIM

What exactly is a Wim?

Not a whim, mind you, a Wim. Collectively: Wims. Five articulate, engaging, 35-ish actor-improvisers who get together in front of an audience every week and, as member Susan Krebs says simply, “Play.”

But what play! Each time out, the Wims (Krebs, Stephanie Waxman, Betty Macias, Elinor Graham and Dale Eunson) don their neutral props--a scarf, a hoop, a basket--and leap into improv: a pastiche of the mundane and the incredible, the silly and the somber. Following a successful run at the Powerhouse last fall, the group has recently begun a new work-in-progress at the Church in Ocean Park.

Originally organized by Krebs, the Wims (with sixth member Betty Thomas of “Hill Street Blues” currently on sabbatical) debuted during the summer of 1984, utilizing the practice of “check-ins” with the audience--at that time they drew on the Olympic experience--then blending those impressions, with their own, into a unique theatrical shape.

Nowadays, those personal contacts (on such topics as dreams) alternate with written suggestions: When they arrive, audiences are greeted with a large empty scroll that solicits responses to lead-in lines such as “I feel great when. . . . “

It’s a smart gimmick and not a restricting one.

“With the theme board,” Graham explained, “we try to create a question that will provide us with material that’s more than superficial, something we can work on and apply right here (she tapped her chest). Otherwise, we will only skitter across the top of it and not really explore the material.”

Added Eunson: “Of course, that’s the problem with improvisation. So often it looks like its very limit is that it can only be off the top of your head--and we’re trying to fight against that, bring it down.”

They emphasize that the courage to go for those truths is knowing they’ve always got a safety net.

“Our primary tenet is to support each other and trust each other,” said Waxman. “If I didn’t trust that I was gonna be bailed out, I might not take so many chances. Because it’s a big risk. You don’t want to make a total fool of yourself. But if you know everybody’s gonna say, ‘We’ll be there, we’ll catch you, we’ll make it wonderful’. . . . “

Krebs said it’s that very aspect of free-fall that is most appealing.

“For me, the nights that aren’t successful are when there’s so much thinking and figuring out and analyzing that it keeps out the real muse. When you’re playing and an idea or an image comes to you, if you stop and say, ‘Well, I don’t know. Will that be good?’--the moment’s gone. So what we’re trying to do is go on the impulse we hadn’t necessarily thought of: going for the moment, being in it.”

Consequently, they shrug off the notion of fear (for them, it translates to “stimulating” and “thrilling”) and any female ego-bashing.

“Look, we’re all bright, all have ideas,” Krebs said. “We value that strength as opposed to fearing it.”

Graham agreed: “A lot of that comes out in performance. I can go out there with a very clear idea of what I’m going to be doing. One night I was the decrepit bell tower on the church and Dale came out, assumed I was another element of a particular dream--thought I was a mannequin--and she named me a mannequin. So I had to not be the bell tower, because I can’t say no to her. Similarly, when we’re dealing in the workshop situations, if someone has very strong ideas, we have to support it--yet we have to accommodate whatever variations there may be on the same idea.”

That theatrical give-and-take (and impromptu problem-solving) often takes on a very personal bent.

“One of the big points of our check-in (which opens the show),” Krebs offered, “is for all of us to cop to what we’re feeling, give all sides of someone’s day: the feeling of being discriminated against, feeling oppressed. And during the course of that we hope to learn more about the feelings--what runs deeper than the anger. So you’re not just going out there a screaming meemie.” (She stresses that one angry female can’t turn the show into a militant tract, “because somebody will always balance you out.”)

Although women used to dominate their audiences, the gender mix has gradually become more evenly divided. “Open and gentle” is how Krebs described the young males, adding that “hopefully, we’re giving them a new insight in their thinking about women.”

Of course, sometimes those “insights” don’t happen. Eunson recalled with a shudder one particular opening night (when the audience included both critical press and the Sisters of St. Joseph), “and one of our members starting doing bad shtick on the Immaculate Conception: real off-the-wall, the only stuff she could remember. Well, I know I personally wanted to disappear. Another member came over and kind of threw herself on the floor, begging her to stop--which she didn’t.”

Their proudest moment? A lyrical piece inspired by a suggested dream of a traveler returning home to a dark, domed city, its ozone layer destroyed. Eunson provided the elevated basket/dome, Macias was the tone musician, Thomas a townsperson, Waxman the dreamer and Graham a robin looking for its way back into the dead place.

With so much of the product finding value as it becomes increasingly layered, how do the players know when to stop?

“We have rules and we don’t have rules,” Krebs shrugged. “We all know what’s appropriate for the moment. Sometimes you’re lucky to have an ending; somebody comes out to start the next one; sometimes you can transform it. And sometimes you die up there.”

The women laugh comfortably. They know what they are, what they can do. They are not slick. They are not homespun. They do not always agree. But they are a unit. Asked if it’s individual alikeness or difference that gives the Wims its spark, Waxman suggested that “we’ve got very similar sensibilities and very different personalities.” The result is an undeniably strong, positive female dynamic.

Yet, said Krebs, “I don’t want to be a separatist. And I don’t think that as a collective we are preaching that. A lot of people come thinking we’re gonna be very pedantic--’Right on, sister!’ screaming and yelling--and they’re pleasantly surprised. After all, there is something extraordinary about five women doing anything together--let alone having a great time.”