In a world of scripted entertainment, where every word is polished and pre-approved, improvisational theater remains an art form of raw spontaneity, built on trust, adaptability, and shared creativity. Some might call it a dying art, overshadowed by scripted comedy and quick-hit online clips, but for one of the Brooklyn Comedy Collective’s favorite  performers, improvisation is anything but outdated.

Recently, I sat down with the members of Frat Boyz—Philip Markle, Carly Ciarrocchi, Nick Kanellis, Peter McNerney, and Sarah Grace Welbourn—to discuss the unique artistry of improv and why it continues to thrive as an essential creative force, especially in NY. Though two of their fellow members, Britt Lower and Zach Cherry, were unable to be present, they remain an integral part of the group. From the unspoken rules of the craft to the deeper role of humor, they shed light on why improv is more than just making people laugh—it’s about stepping into uncertainty with confidence and trust.

Creating from Nothing

Unlike other performance arts, improv offers no script, no pre-planned punchlines, and no safety net. As McNerney puts it, “It is the art form in which your medium is you, and nothing else. What you feel and think is the show.” Without costumes, sets, or rehearsed dialogue, improv demands a deep level of presence and trust—both in oneself and in one’s fellow performers.

For Welbourn, this trust is what makes improv such a unique and joyful experience. “I always feel like the audience of an improv show is just, like, along for the ride in the most joyful way. It really does feel like you're all in the moment together.”

The Unspoken Rules of Improv

While improv is often perceived as chaotic and freewheeling, it operates within a structured framework. One of the most well-known principles, “Yes, And,” requires performers to accept and build upon each other’s ideas, rather than shutting them down.

Philip Markle, a member of Frat Boyz and the artistic director and founder of the Brooklyn Comedy Collective, describes this principle as an act of creative bravery: “It’s easy to say no. It’s much braver to say yes and add a thought, even if you don’t know if it’s a good or bad thought.”

The performers also rely on silent cues and instincts developed over years of collaboration. For instance, revisiting a scene multiple times—something they did organically in their recent show—can become a format, even if it wasn’t pre-discussed. “We didn’t agree to do a Spokane,” Welbourn recalls, referencing an improv format. “But I think we just organically were like, ‘Oh, we’re going to keep coming back to these guys and frame things around the buffet line.’” The "buffet line" became a recurring theme throughout the show.

Humor as a Byproduct, Not the Goal

While improv is often classified as comedy, its humor arises naturally from the act of discovery rather than from a deliberate attempt to be funny. McNerney articulates this beautifully: “Humor is the reward for people double-checking their assumptions.” In other words, the audience's laughter often comes from realizing they’ve made an incorrect assumption about a scene, only for it to be subverted in real time.

Kanellis agrees, pointing out that humor in improv often emerges from the absurdity of building a reality with others. “It tends to be humorous just naturally because it’s very difficult to create a reality with other people without it breaking or being a little surprising or absurd.”

The Power of Community

At its core, improv is about trust. The phrase “Got your back” is the last thing the Frat Boyz say before stepping on stage, reinforcing their commitment to supporting one another no matter where a scene takes them.

Ciarrocchi describes it as a rare chance to surrender control: “There aren’t that many opportunities as a performer or even as a human being to genuinely not be in control and not know what’s coming next.” This relinquishing of control not only strengthens the bond between performers but also offers audiences a unique, present-moment experience that is increasingly rare in our digital age.

Beyond the Stage: The Lifelong Lessons of Improv

One of improv’s greatest gifts is its ability to translate into everyday life. The necessity of collaboration and adaptability in an improv scene, mirrors the unpredictability of real-world interactions. McNerney reflects on how improv has shaped his personal growth: “The thing you do when you're scared in improv is the thing you do when you're scared in life.”

For Welbourn, improv transformed her perception of teamwork. “I think I was very like, ‘I don’t want a partner for a group project.’ That’s always been my energy. But improv taught me again and again that other people’s ideas actually help.”

Markle extends this idea, sharing how improv’s forgiving nature has influenced his artistic approach: “To me, improv is about how strong you are, not how wrong you are. If my batting average is three out of ten scenes being really fun and hot, that’s an incredible artistic hit rate.”

A Testament to Adaptability

Improv also thrives on adaptability—something the Frat Boyz experience regularly when members are missing. “Every little combination is still an exciting discovery,” McNerney says. Whether performing as a full group or as a duo, the essence of improv remains unchanged: it’s about trust, play, and embracing the unknown.

The Future of Improv

Despite changing entertainment landscapes, improv remains deeply embedded in our culture—whether in theater, comedy, or even corporate training workshops. Its principles of listening, adapting, and saying yes are as relevant as ever.

For the Frat Boyz, improv is more than a performance art—it’s a philosophy, a way of moving through the world with curiosity and resilience. As long as people continue to crave authenticity, shared experience, and a good laugh at their own assumptions, improv will never be a dying art—it will always be a necessary one.

Get your tickets to see the Frat Boyz live for their next show here.