Since “We Know How You Die!” is improvised, and thus wholly different at each performance, it is no spoiler to say that, on opening night, the eponymous demise came by way of a man-eating cow-coconut hybrid.
On opening night, the volunteer, Steve, revealed himself to be a nuclear engineer and amateur ukulele player with a sideline as a biohacker. (Good to know such people have time for theatergoing.) Details from his life story gave the poised and canny performers leeway to improvise a series of scenes that culminated in a kooky anecdote about a fatal accident at a biohacking lab.
“We Know How You Die!” begins with the four performers prowling through the theater dressed Grim Reaper-style in black hooded robes. But after that sight gag, the comedy becomes rawer and more straggling; this is improv, after all. For the theatergoer, the fun lies not in consuming a series of slick jokes, but in appreciating a daredevil creative process and savoring the frequently absurd scenarios and conversational exchanges the performers concoct on the fly.
For my money, the highlights of the evening’s biography-based component included O’Neill’s intermittently wisecracking onstage interview with Steve, who had been selected by the performers from a group of other would-be volunteers.
Once the improv itself got going, choice moments included the cheerfully suggestive scene about a fetish-convention attendee seeking to buy a ukulele at a Toys R Us store. And then there was the hilarious channeling of a naval trainee mocking another for believing in atoms. (Apparently, Steve experienced this in real life.) Modernity’s most destructive weapon is not an atom bomb but an “Adam bomb,” named for the first human being, the raucous know-nothing character proclaimed.
The biographical improv wrapped up with a funeral spoof. After an intermission, the performers asked the audience to suggest a potentially meaningful adage. The maxim “The right thing and the easy thing are seldom the same” was suggested. This bit of wisdom served as a launching pad for scenes that included a skit about a group of neighborhood dads coining and mangling their own proverbs; and one about a neurotic driver who develops a fit of Dostoevsky-worthy guilt after defying a no-right-turn traffic sign.
Even during this motto-based section, references to Steve’s story, and the canvassing of wannabe volunteers that preceded it, continued to turn up now and again. The effect added to the sense of shared camaraderie that may be one of the draws of this brand of improv. For a brief stretch of time, you and a set of talented risk-taking performers have a shared past and a set of shared jokes. You are in with the in crowd.
We Know How You Die! Through July 31 at Woolly Mammoth Theatre, 641 D St. NW. Tickets: $15-$75. Call 202-393-3939 or visit woollymammoth.net.
