It’s Saturday night and I’m standing alone at the back of a north London pub when a befuddled-looking couple in matching anoraks come up and ask if this is the queue for the show. My heart sinks. I’d come to This Doesn’t Leave the Room, a night of improvised comedy hosted by the Free Association, with a theory: that improv – that most ridiculed of comedic forms – is finally becoming cool, thanks to a slew of millennial sitcom star practitioners and a stream of trendily branded shows. But as I trudge up a staircase into a room full of empty seats – me on one side, the confused couple on the other – I realise I may have been mistaken.
But then, all of a sudden, the atmosphere changes. People start flooding in with a sense of anticipation – rambunctious groups of friends, twentysomethings on dates, a trio of glammed-up girls warming up for a big night out (one of them is wearing a corset and waving a bottle of wine) – until there’s barely room to breathe. Finally, I relax: improv really might be the hottest ticket in town.
