'Chick' troupe finger-lickin' good

The chickens do not have an agenda.

No, the women of the Chicken Ranch, a female performing group, instead have made a name for themselves with an original take on improvisational comedy that has broad appeal.

“We don’t do ‘chick’ humor,” said Cindee Weiss, one in the five-member troupe that was at UNC for the banner weekend of the Carolina Comedy Festival.

Weiss, her four cohorts and the group’s director sat down for an interview with The Daily Tar Heel on Friday before their show.

They talked about Chicken Ranch, which was formed in January when five friends living in New York City and director Jen Nails decided to piece together an all-female comedy team.

“We just thought we’d give it a try,” said Leigh Angel, a North Carolina native.

So far, that try seems to be paying off. This is the group’s first trip outside of New York since January.

In the city, Chicken Ranch does long-form improvisational performances, which are different from the choppy bits popularized by ABC’s “Whose Line is It Anyway?” hosted by Drew Carey. The sketches they planned for the festival were more like short plays.

“The more people see long-form improv, the more people would get used to it,” Nails said. “They would love it.”

And that is what these actors are all about. The women of Chicken Ranch do not have an agenda.

“We just want to spread joy,” said member Michele Medlin. She added — with a giggle — “I can’t believe I just said that.”

Medlin, who went to Mars Hill College in North Carolina with Angel, has a voice that’s as high-pitched as a 6-year-old girl’s. She is a facetious sundrop in the group’s jovial cache and says things like, “Our faces hurt from smiling,” followed by a swear word.

She came up with the name Chicken Ranch but is just one of an eclectic bunch.

There’s Sarah Nowak, a monologue writer and performer, who divvied the interview Friday between heart-felt expositions about her craft and half-serious jokes about the group.

“We were really drawn to each other magnetically,” she said.

“It’s just different with all girls.”

And there’s Amy Dickenson, an improviser for more than 12 years, who takes a high-brow approach to the trade.

“We have a pro good-ass improv agenda,” she said.

Dickenson also admittedly reverts to saying “poop” during the group’s warm-ups when they do word-association games.

Angel is laid-back, knitting a kitschy purple wrist band throughout the second half of the interview. She also has a nose ring.

“We generally don’t go blue,” she said, addressing the troupe’s casual diction.

Together, the players form a cogent unit, one that runs the gamut from serious commentary to irreverent banter.

“That’s the beauty of it,” Medlin said. “We have five really smart women. We can rely on each other, and we don’t have to do anything alone.

“We put the w-e-e-e in team.”

Contact the A&E Editor at artsdesk@unc.edu.