Clog dancing, driving a fire engine, training dogs, being a corset-clad historical interpreter... in true Bridget Jones style, I've tried my hand at dozens of jobs and activities in the pursuit of 'amusing'column inches for the Cambridge News. The online archive has now gone (see previous gripe about Trinity Mirror), so here's an example...

Think you can stand up and be funny at the drop of a hat? EMMA HIGGINBOTHAM doesn’t, but decides to have a go at improv comedy anyway.

I’ve been through my fair share of scary stuff over the years. I’ve ridden an elephant bareback. I’ve had my big toenail ripped off by a well-meaning but brutal nurse. I’ve endured the self-inflicted torture of childbirth (twice).

But nothing is as terrifying as preparing for my first ever improv comedy class, where I assume I’ll have to stand up in a roomful of strangers and ‘be funny’. I’m a sweaty mess.

For those who aren’t familiar with the joys of Whose Line Is It Anyway?, Mock the Week or new BBC2 show Fast and Loose, improv is short for improvisational comedy, or ‘making stuff up on the spot’, if you like.

And although you can’t teach someone to be spontaneously hilarious, you can give them some useful pointers – which is why Cambridge scriptwriting group WRiTEON regularly offers classes in the mysterious art.

Now I’m not averse to a bit of am-dram and can hold my own when it comes to gentle bantering. But being funny? Hmm, I’m not sure.

I’d certainly never attempt stand-up comedy, not because I don’t like the idea of being on stage and telling jokes, but because I’d be mortified if nobody laughed.

In fact that’s all I can think about as I arrive at the Ross Street Community Centre. What if nobody laughs? I feel slightly sick, and wish I’d given in to my instinct to have a glass of wine (or three) before coming.

A couple of others have already turned up: I ask Vaughan Allanson why he does it: “For the adrenalin buzz,” he shrugs. “I can’t quantify it any other way.”

Also waiting is Andrew Bailey (“as in ‘old’”, he tells me, deadpan). He comes to the sessions to explore ideas for theatrical pieces: “I’m not interested in always going for the laugh, I’m more interested in the story-telling,” he explains. Really? I thought it was only about getting a laugh.

“No!” say Andrew and Vaughan in unison. “In fact people going for the cheap laugh destroy what you’ve already created,” says Andrew.

“And if you keep it real and keep it straight, it’s still as funny,” adds Vaughan. Now this is very good news.

At this point, instructor Clare Kerrison arrives. A professional actress and seasoned improviser for more than 10 years – and possibly the smiliest person I’ve ever met – Clare was creative director of the Wellington improvisation Troupe in her native New Zealand before moving to Cambridge a couple of years ago (“We miss her,” their website wails).

I tell her how pleased I am that it’s not going to be about ‘being funny’, and she laughs. Crikey, that was easy.

“Comedy comes from character, so as long as you’re committing to that character and just saying what’s obvious, you won’t even know when you get the laugh. And that’s the best kind of laugh,” she tells me.

So is there a trick to it? “Don’t try too hard. Relax. Be obvious. Don’t try and censor yourself, and don’t try and find something better, just say what’s there.” And don’t worry if no-one laughs? “Not at all! I guarantee you there will be laughter; it’s about not going for the laugh.”

Tonight’s lesson is all about building the ‘platform’, the scene-setting of a story. Getting into fours in front of the ‘audience’ of the others, the first person sets the scene, the next two develop what’s happened, and the final person concludes. To my horror I end up as the ‘concluder’, and by the time the story reaches me it’s become the tale of a hopeless stand-up comedian called Edwin who’d taken all his clothes off on stage.

Where do you go with that? Well let’s just say my answer involves a bodily function and Edwin being banned from the theatre for life. It’s a cheap shot, but it gets a laugh. A laugh! God it feels good.

For the next exercise, I’m paired with James Kirk (no, not that one), a professional actor who comes along to keep himself sharp while he’s ‘resting’: “Acting’s like a muscle,” he explains. “You have to keep using it. And things like this are great for auditions.”

We’re doing the ‘one word each’ exercise (he says ‘once’, I say ‘upon’ and so on), and ours turns into a tale about the ill-fated relationship between a cow and a pig. It’s rather unsavoury but also very funny, at least it is to us (fortunately the others are doing their own and not watching), and teaches me the vital importance of listening to your partner.

In another pairs exercise, we’re shown how just giving someone a name can transform a story: Michelle Golder (who also happens to chair WRiTEON!) is looking through an imaginary telescope when her partner for the scene, professional actor Robert Jezek (who played the Polish neighbour in Dustin Hoffman/Emma Thompson film Last Chance Harvey), walks over.

“Hi Junior!’ she smiles, at which point Robert digs his hands into his pockets, slouches and sulkily scrapes the floor with his toe.

He’s great and we all laugh, but actually it’s all thanks to Michelle; she’s the one who, with two words, cast a middle-aged Canadian as a small boy.

Being given a name helps when it’s my turn too. I’m miming a bit of weight-lifting when James strides over: “Awright, Dave?” he growls. “Awright, Kev?” I reply, adjusting my imaginary appendages. It’s smutty, but I get another laugh. (Oh joy! Oh rapture!)

Throughout the exercises, we’re coaxed, prompted and inspired by Clare, who keeps the energy in the room sky-high. She first became involved in the genre to settle her nerves at auditions. “Improv is designed to remove fear from actors because it makes us joyful of failure,” she explains.

But, says Clare, improv isn’t just for thespians; anyone can use the skills. “It’s about taking risks in real life: walking into that job interview, or doing the best man’s speech; whatever it is you might have a slight fear of doing because you’re afraid of failing. It’s removing some of that fear by giving you the confidence to take a risk, so you can deal with what happens because you can improvise.”

This is the third cycle of classes Clare has run for WRiTEON, and a huge range of people – with differing ranges of confidence – attend. “There are always people in life where you think: ‘Gosh, I wish I had their boldness’, well they turn up, and then there are some people who are really outside their comfort zone,” says Clare. “They all come for different reasons, and it’s up to me to try and give them something. And I think I do.”

If there’s one thing Clare and the class have given me, it’s the adrenalin buzz. Vaughan was absolutely right, and it’s well after 2am before I finally drop off into a smug sleep. They laughed… They actually laughed…

The best of improv

On stage: For the last 25 years, the Comedy Store Players have spawned the like of Josie Lawrence, Greg Proops, Richard Vranch and Paul Merton, who says: “Any minute you can be called onto the stage as a Mexican gardener or a Polish butcher. It's just a joy to be part of it." (Sundays and Wednesdays at London’s Comedy Store - www.comedystoreplayers.com)

On TV: Fast and Loose is BBC2’s Friday night improv show, hosted by Hugh Dennis: “Improvisation has moved on enormously,” he says.”We have electronic trickery, animated chickens and blowfish… it’s half an hour of controlled improvised silliness and there is no scoring and no stars.”

On DVD: Check out the king of improvised conversation Larry David in Curb Your Enthusiasm, or Steve Coogan’s 2010 masterpiece The Trip (pay particular attention to the ‘Gentlemen, to bed!’ scene).

On Film: Ex-Spinal Tapper Christopher Guest uses improv throughout his films (Waiting for Guffman, A Mighty Wind, Best In Show). "It's real acting, in a sense; you're reacting spontaneously to things you've never heard before,” he says. “You can either do it or not, and if you're with a bunch of people who can, there's nothing more fun."

Jan 2011 (c) Cambridge News

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