Raumdeuter: German footballer Thomas Müller and interpreting space in improv

In 2010, 21-year old German footballer Thomas Müller won the Golden Boot, the prize for top-scorer at a World Cup Finals.

Müller is notionally a forward, the apex of team, the primary goalscorer. And yet he has an unexceptional career scoring record of a goal every 3 games. He possesses none of the most obvious or traditional attributes of the position. He’s not especially fast, rarely out-muscles an defender or scores a screamer from distance. He’s unlikely to dribble through the opposition or rake a searching 60 yard pass. He loses possession more often than you’d like. At a lanky-looking 6ft 1, Müller can appear a bit awkward, the game passing him by as the showier players dance around him. And then he scores. And then he does it again, in the most important games of his life. Consistently.

Müller followed up the 2010 World Cup with a decade of quiet, understated, excellence. At the following tournament, Euro 2012, he made 7 assists. He was second top scorer at the 2014 World Cup, a tournament his team won, to add to his 9 German league titles and 2 Champions Leagues over the decade. Müller is at once clearly one of the game’s stars, but rarely identified as one of the fastest, the most skilful, the best finisher, etc.

How is this contradiction possible? Müller is a mould-breaker, a reader of the game. In his career, Müller has effectively invented a new position which he continues to be the leading exponent of — the ‘Raumdeuter’, or ‘Space Interpreter’. The Raumdeuter operates in the space vacated by others. He reads the speed and rhythm of the game and exploits the gaps. The innocuous is where Müller is most effective. If you froze a match, then asked Müller to close his eyes and describe where every player was on the pitch in that moment, he could do it.

What’s this got to do with improv? Some improvisers are great at jokes, some can establish clear locations, or unique relationships. Others understand game of the scene like super-computers, can win over an empty room with sheer joy, or find moments of genuine pathos. Some make inspired and unexpected connections, always edit at the right time, or have an encyclopaedic knowledge of show formats. These are all magnificent qualities, but few can do them all.

Thomas Müller is the improviser I want to be. The Thomas Müller of improvisers is malleable. They operate in the moment with full awareness of the whole. They instinctively read the show they’re in and give it what it needs. They play in the gaps.

If a show has a run of talking heads scenes, they set scenes in interesting locations with unusual scene pictures. If a scene starts with the same emotional quality as the last, they respond in honest but unusual ways. If a show is loud and lairy, they value stillness and silence. If it lacks energy, they inject it unashamedly.

They’re a team player. If a teammate hasn’t been out much, they initiate a scene with them. They invest their attention fully to their show, especially from the backline, so they’re ready to support, ready to tag or sweep, ready to react. They set their teammates up to play, when there might be more glory going for the laugh themselves.

The Thomas Müller of improvisers is always truly listening to what’s in front of them.

They act decisively.

They appear to be doing nothing. And then they score.