These movies are about a family. And their boundless trust in one another.

That’s really what makes these movies work. I mean, let’s face it, these movies are dumb. There’s always a MacGuffin they’re chasing that doesn’t quite make sense with twists that kind of fall apart with any mild scrutiny. But none of that matters, because these movies have a strong core. A core of love and respect.

These characters would do anything for each other (and brother, do they!), which allows the audience to go along with them on these absurd fucking adventures. It isn’t really about whether they’re going to get the virus or the uranium or the missile. It’s about whether this family can stay intact when beseiged on all sides. It’s about watching people stick together.

It’s about something that’s missing in my own life and, I’m sure, the lives of some others. And that’s what the movies are about, feeling things you may not get to feel in your every day life. A sense of belonging, a sense of purpose. Or a sense of riding a motorcycle down the streets of Paris at 100 mph. Either way.

Recently, I was doing a scene where I was a drill sergeant and there came a point where one of my charges said they couldn’t do something I commanded. So I walked up to her (a white woman) in a take no shit, menacing drill sergeant way. I didn’t say anything and in the brief quiet, I heard a white woman in the audience go, “oh no!”. I wondered, is she caught up in this scene or was that just her reaction to a black man approaching a white woman in an aggressive way?

I can admit that I have never felt that I had the luxury of “freedom” on stage. There’s too much to consider. There are often times where I feel the world of the scene would be served by a character that a white improviser could play with ease, but I always ask myself first: “Is this a character that will send the wrong message to a roomful of white people?” For example, if there is a scene about a world where sandwiches are illegal, my instinct would be to get out there and be a “sandwich dealer”. However, my thought would be: “Do I want to do anything that could reinforce White America’s belief that black person = drug dealer?”

So I do what I feel comfortable doing. In that sense, improv is a lot like life. I try to avoid anything that will freak out white people, because freaked out white people are the most dangerous weapon on Earth.