Al Howell, I love ya like a brother, but that Micetro thing? Not so much…

I’ll freely admit that I’m a Second City snob, Touring Company Director or not. Thus, any kind of improv (sorry, impro) show where someone besides the audience is declared the “winner” is an immediate problem for me.

It’s bad enough that the mostly very talented Micetro players in last night’s show (you know who you are) had to wear big number badges à la American Idol and weren’t ever addressed by name; in performance they were burdened by so many restrictions and side-coaching that there was virtually no scene work for the audience to enjoy, merely funny lines.

Using jazz music as a metaphor, the stuff I’m personally drawn to would be akin to a John Coltrane ballad or Herbie Hancock arrangement, whereas Micetro is more like jazz fusion — impossible polyrhythms at a blisteringly-fast tempo in 7/8 time. And really loud.

I won’t deny for a second that the rest of the young audience had a great time at Micetro. Me? I left at intermission, officially as a protest against the elimination part of the show but honestly because I was exhausted from all that silent judgement…