Despite being the most prominent improv troupe at Boston College, the meaning behind the name My Mother’s Fleabag is largely unknown. Forty-five years after its founding, the reason for this designation has grown somewhat ambiguous. As the story goes, the group is named after a motel in Cape Cod owned by the founder’s mother—dingy, grotty motels are often referred to as “fleabag motels,” insinuating a population of fleas residing there.
The somewhat squalid connotation is not the true meaning of the group’s name, though.
“That’s not why we’re named that—we’re not grungy at all,” Director Libby Howenstein, MCAS ’25, clarified.
For Fleabaggers, the fleabag nature of the motel exemplifies the uncertainty of what you could come across at such an establishment and also at their shows.
“When you go to a motel on the side of the road—or something like that—and you open a door, you never know what you’re going to find or what you’re going to get,” said Howenstein.
“And Fleabag is sort of like that. When you go to a show or you see a scene or a game or whatever we’re doing, you never know what you’re going to see, you’ll never know what you’re going to get. So it’s kind of like a surprise.”
With 45 years of history, Fleabag claims to be the oldest improv comedy troupe in the country. But without any real means of verification, how much truth there is to the claim is uncertain, and as much is admitted by the group.
“There might need to be an asterisk there,” said Director Will Sweeney, MCAS ’25.
Whether or not they are the oldest in the country, Fleabag is certainly one of the most successful collegiate improv groups. The group’s alumni include Maile Flanagan, Nancy Walls Carell, Wayne Wilderson, Cameron Esposito, Lou Wilson, and Amy Poehler. These notable figures have helped provide the group with much attention on campus.
Fleabag’s popularity has also undoubtedly factored into the creation of a handful of other BC comedy groups that have popped up over the years. Fortunately, the growing comic population on campus hasn’t created competition or animosity between groups.
“People always ask us ‘is there beef?’” said Howenstein. “It’s so far from that.”
On the contrary, a portion of the audience at any comedy show on campus is made up of the other groups coming to be supportive.
“I know that Shovelhead or Asinine are going to come to our show, and we’re going to go to their show, and we’re going to laugh super hard—we’re going to participate as loud as we can,” said Howenstein. “Fleabag is so tight. It’s like our own little family, but it’s nice that we have family friends.”
While the comedy groups are turning out in number for each other, the wider BC community also jumps at the chance to see their peers perform. Fleabag shows almost always have people happily standing in the back or even sitting on the floor after the seats fill up.
“We’re lucky on this campus that people love the comedy groups,” said Sweeney. “I feel like there’s a stigma of ‘oh, collegiate improv is cringy’ or whatever but … people are so kind and supportive.”
According to Howenstein, even with all the support from students, there are always looming, unreasonable expectations, though.
“I don’t know how many times I’ve been asked, ‘say a joke,’” said Howenstein.
Despite the sometimes overwhelming pressure to be funny, nothing is more gratifying for Fleabaggers than performing. And for audience members, their first Fleabag show is rarely their last.
“That’s when it feels rewarding,” said Director Henry Durning, MCAS ’25. “When you’re like ‘Wow, this is something that people like enough that they would come back.’”
Improv, by nature, demands intense creativity and quick thinking. Fleabag can thrive under these impositions through various “safety nets.” Along with unwavering trust in their scene partners to pick up for them if they’re blanking, Fleabaggers can rely on the character they’ve built and the setting to carry them through difficult moments.
“If [the scene] is in a garden, you stop for a sec to pick up flowers,” said Durning. “That keeps the reality of the scene while you can think.”
Such moments are few and far between at Fleabag shows, largely due to the group’s significant practice regimen. During the most intense days leading up to their big shows, they spend six hours working on their improv skills every night.
But practices hardly feel like a burden for Fleabaggers. In fact, they offer a welcome distraction from the stresses of day-to-day college life, as well as the chance to spend time with friends.
“It’s the best part of my week,” said Sweeney.
Improv, however, is inherently spontaneous and spur of the moment, which raises the question: What does an improv group practice? Fleabag spends their time working with a series of improvisational principles that act as guiding philosophies to help formulate any given scene. The practices are just like shows, with out-of-scene Fleabaggers shouting suggestions for each other to work with.
“I feel like I have more bits and characters from practice than I do from shows,” said Sweeney.
Many of these bits evolve into inside jokes and are frequently used when Fleabaggers catch up outside practice. The hours spent practicing and the considerable social time the group spends together aid in essential bonding.
“One of the biggest aspects of improv is knowing your scene partners and trusting [them],” said Howenstein. “So dedicating this time during the week to getting to know each other just makes our improv infinitely better.”
As seniors, Sweeney, Durning, and Howenstein will all leave Fleabag after this semester. After spending four years contributing to a nearly half-century-long legacy, each director views these final moments with their own unique perspective.
“First and foremost, it’s a family,” said Sweeney. “Now it’s our turn … to be stewards to the club.”
“Leaving, there’s no nervousness about how the group is going to change when I’m gone,” said Durning. “It’s going to stay strong—you’re going to keep seeing awesome improv. To see how the people grow in it, and the little changes, it’s just kind of exciting.”
“They’re gonna burn to the ground without us,” said Howenstein.
Leave a Reply