Improv is a skill for which I harbour an intense combination of awe and envy, the way most people watch Olympic sport. Speaking as someone that can only reliably be funny with at least a week’s prep and every beat memorised, it’s like magic to watch how quickly a performer’s mind works to turn the slightest prompt into a full-fledged bit. So naturally I leapt at the chance to cover the Oxford Imp’s Women and Non-Binary Comedy Special, which hit the Jericho Tavern stage on Monday.
The Imps are pretty legendary on the Oxford comedy circuit, and this particular show was a chance to shine a spotlight on its female and non-binary talent, in support of local charity organisation YWMP. The vibe is high energy from the get go, the cast joyously bopping about to OK Go and Saint Motel between skits. While there’s no ‘official’ host, Vicky Stone usually takes centre stage to wrangle things and does so with gusto, engagingly and accessibly explaining the basic tenets and conceits of the show to those that might be unfamiliar.
And then the fun begins. The structure is a well-rounded mix of long and short form set ups. Exercises like Three-Headed Expert and Counting Words give the cast ample opportunity to show off their collaborative skill - I’ll certainly never forget the works of noted Sanskrit scholar Dr. Jesus Buntings - while games like ‘World’s Worst’ and ‘Move It On’ provide more rapid-fire gags and the chance for full cast participation. The physical comedy on display from Stone and Jenny Conrads in particular during the ‘World’s Worst’ segment was gold (although both of them are now forever blacklisted from a career in dentistry).
The Imps also punctuate the chaos with a trio of more structured stand-up. First up is Lucie Richardson, with a sweetly self-deprecating set about the wonders (well, wonder) of Didcot and the joys and tribulations of singledom while living at home. There’s a little unevenness in the rhythm, but that’s made up for with some absolutely killer lines that really take you by surprise in their unassuming delivery (a line about where Didcot babies come from visibly floored Richardson’s onstage castmates).
Stone takes up the middle with an assured and energetic routine covering burgeoning sexuality, therapy, and the feminine wiles of the Scottish Widow (c’mon, we’ve all been there). Even at 21, Stone’s comic persona feels so fully realised and confidently delivered in a way I’ve seen people years her senior still have trouble pinning down. We only get a tight five here, but she has the kind of charisma that could easily command an hour-long set.
Finally, Emily Bampton rounds out the three with perhaps the strongest set of the night. Not only are her anecdotes about falling in ill-advised love with cargo-shorted men and her clumsy objectification of women on a trip to Ghana a hilariously relatable punch to the gut, the way she incorporates an accidentally problematic slip-up in her introduction from Stone is glorious. Bampton plays with the tension and delights in watching Stone squirm, and it adds a great dynamic layer to the written routine.
Indeed, the interplay between the whole cast is just so gratifying to watch. Improv being a collaborative medium inherently carries with it a need to respect and make room for the ideas of your fellow performers in the moment, and you can really feel that positivity in this cast. The atmosphere is so light and supportive, whether they’re leaning into the absurdities and the stumbles or creased against the wall as the stars align for a slam-dunk gag.
The show closes with a potted musical based on the prompt ‘shipwreck’, with particular highlights including a doddering captain of a ship that’s only half finished, his squawking seagull companions (special mention to Bampton’s perfectly timed seagull eulogy), and a first mate with a penchant for doing questionable things to rum barrels. It’s a delightfully unhinged romp, enhanced by some impressive vocal chops and game piano accompaniment. But it’s also a great metaphor for what the Imps do best - steering through the chaos with a crew of misfit and only half the material you need until, against all odds, you reach land.