In his previous film, SLEEPWALK WITH ME, writer-director Mike Birbiglia tangentially examined his life as a stand-up comic and the relationships he had with other comics, most of whom were fairly dickish to him, even among his closest peers (Marc Maron has a particularly fun time dragging Birbiglia over the coals, if memory serves). But with his latest offering, DON’T THINK TWICE, Birbiglia throws the spotlight on another part of his life—as a member of a talented and, most importantly, highly supportive improv group that puts on shows at New York’s Upright Citizens Brigade venue. Opening the film with Del Close’s rules of improv, it becomes clear that Birbiglia isn’t going to poke fun at the practice but embrace it as a place where misfits with sharp minds meet and become one.
The group in DON’T THINK TWICE isn’t meant to be as successful as UCB or Second City. They’re very funny, and talent scouts occasionally grace their audience scouting for television shows, including the golden ring “Weekend Live” (which is essentially “SNL” with a barely changed name—the more we see of the show and its offices, the more that becomes clear, and the funnier the running joke gets), but most of the six-person group live in a single apartment like college students in off-campus housing. It’s also rather funny that most of the team are in their mid- to late 30s, and although it’s rarely addressed directly, they all seem keenly aware that their lives have not progressed as they’d hoped. The group gets word that the theater landlord has sold the property, and they only have a few weeks to vacate, leaving their future together in jeopardy and forcing each member to take stock in where they want to be and whether they still have the stamina to attempt to make their comedy dreams come true.
Birbiglia plays Miles, the leader of the group known as The Commune. He’s taught and elevated a few members who have gone on to bigger and better things over the years, and when two other players—Samantha (Gillian Jacobs) and Jack (Keegan-Michael Key), who happen to be dating—get asked to audition for “Weekend Live,” Miles gets resentful, wondering when his time will come. When Jack gets called up for the show, there’s an uncomfortable assumption that he’ll pull in as many of the troupe as writers as he can, something he’s told repeatedly by the show’s other cast that he shouldn’t do.
No matter how tense things get among the players, they always seem to bring their A-game to their humble-sized stage, and Birbiglia and cinematographer Joe Anderson work to make the improv staging look different than the rest of the film. The camera weaves among the players, clearly on stage with them, making us feel like the seventh member of the squad. The technique made my heart race, and it forces you to contemplate what you might say or do in that situation by literally putting us in their shoes in front of an audience. Nearly every improv sequence begins with the camera at the back of the stage, giving us a view of the chairs on stage. As the end nears, Jack leaves for television, overall tensions rise, and each time we return to the stage, chairs are removed one by one as people don’t show up or arrive late. Not exactly subtle, but it's a great metaphor for the status of the Commune.
Birbiglia wisely surrounds himself with a mix of seasoned improv vets, who also include members of his real-life group, including Chris Gethard as Bill, whose father is dying during this time period, darkening the mood even further; and Tami Sagher as Lindsay, the only member of the group who comes from money and knows she could fall back on it but doesn’t. The sixth member of the team is the great songwriter and comic performer Kate Micucci (half of Garfunkel & Oates). She and Jacobs had never done improv before this film, but you wouldn’t know it from watching them thrive in their engaging and hilarious moments on stage.
The film certainly doesn’t miss the opportunity to emphasize the camaraderie that goes hand in hand with the improv experience. It’s quite clear, even when these six are snipping at each other in the company’s toughest days, that there is a family dynamic among them. It’s inspiring, sweet and sends a powerful message about the bonding power of the arts. They back each other up both on and off stage, and their closeness is worthy of envy. Each member of the Commune has deep flaws that are accepted and sometimes dealt with by the group, and by the end of the film, each must make a decision about whether to continue with improv or move on to a new set of dreams.
DON’T THINK TWICE feels genuine, both as an example of how funny improv can be born night after night and as a wonderful example of how makeshift families are formed at dingy theaters all over the country by people who believe in each other, and even a little in themselves. Birgilia isn't afraid to say things about the success rate of those doing improv or how talent isn't always the sole deciding factor as to whether a comic performer moves on to bigger things. It's a surprisingly tough and emotional film, but it never forgets how to stay funny throughout. Keep an eye out for it this summer.
