Every Saturday night, a small stage comes alive with unscripted chaos. At Loose Moose Theatre, the real prize hasn’t changed in decades.
The company has been around for almost 50 years and is known for its various forms of improv.
The “Secret Impro Show” took place Saturday from 8 p.m. to 10 p.m. at Loose Moose Theatre in Calgary’s southeast.
It offers performers a shot at being crowned the night’s best improviser.
The reward?
A simple $10 bill, a decent increase from the $5 prize, according to Miss Laura Tennisco, an improviser at Loose Moose Theatre, which stood for more than 30 years.
In a time when high stakes and high budgets often drive entertainment, the modest prize raises a question: why does something so small still matter so much?
“It’s for anyone of all ages, but it’s recommended 14 plus because it’s improvised — we don’t know what’s going to happen,” said Dave Ware, an improviser with Loose Moose and a member of the board of directors.
A stage built on unpredictability
The theatre sits inside a building with white brick walls, marked by a bold red “LOOSE MOOSE” sign mounted high above the entrance.
A black canopy stretches overhead, fluorescent lights casting a contrasting glow against the night.
Inside, a long stairway leads up to a front desk where audience members collect their tickets before stepping into the performance space — an intimate room where anything can happen.
Berry Piercey tells the audience all they should expect during the event and tells them what they should do every improv from the performers to decide the winner of the night. Pointing to a chalkboard displaying the tallied mark of each performer for each point they get. PHOTO: CHELSEA ASUZU
That unpredictability is the heart of improv. Each Saturday, performers take the stage without a script, building scenes on the spot in response to the director’s suggestions.
The result is a mix of quick wit, awkward pauses and bursts of laughter that feel unique to that night alone. No two shows are ever the same – that remains constant.
More than just a $10 prize
“We want the audience to be entertained, see things that maybe surprise them a little bit, and just sort of show them what thinking on your feet and being in the moment can do for you,” Ware said.
For the performers, the competition adds a subtle edge. Being named the best improviser isn’t just about the money; it’s about recognition from peers and the audience.
The small cash prize has become more symbolic than financial weight, a tradition that ties today’s performers to decades of past casts who competed under similar conditions.
Tennisco has been performing improv for more than 20 years and says the goal goes beyond the prize.
When asked what she hopes audiences take away from the show, Tennisco said she simply wants them to feel it was worth their time.
“They got their money’s worth,” she said. “If they are driving on the way home and they are laughing about some things that happened, or maybe not even laughing — they were touched or maybe they were worried for a character on stage — if we made them feel something out of thin air, I think we did our job.”
Laughter, connection and lasting impact
For audiences, the appeal lies in that blend of consistency and surprise. They know where to go, what time it starts, and roughly what to expect, but the content is always new.
It’s a contrast that keeps people coming back, week after week.
A theatre rooted in tradition
In an entertainment landscape that constantly pushes for bigger and newer, the Secret Impro Show proves that longevity doesn’t always come from change.
Sometimes, it comes from holding onto the same simple idea: a stage, a crowd, and $10 on the line, and letting creativity do the rest.