Brandon Ash-Mohammed on vulnerability and success in comedy

Comedian says BIPOC performers demanded to share trauma with audiences

What:  Brandon Ash-Mohammed: The Reclusive Chanteuse
When: Sat., June 1
Where: Factory Theatre, 125 Bathurst St.
Why you should go: See one of Canada’s biggest comedy stars push himself out of his comfort zone and go to the ‘next level.’


VULNERABILITY SEEMS like a fundamental attribute of performing stand-up comedy. In how many scenarios would you feel more emotionally vulnerable than being alone on a stage, speaking into a microphone and trying to make a room full of people laugh?

“That’s what I thought!” says Brandon Ash-Mohammed, a Toronto-based comedian and award-winning head writer for Canada’s Drag Race. “I thought that was vulnerable enough!”

Ash-Mohammed is currently one of Canada’s brightest comedy stars. He appeared in 2022’s LOL: Last One Laughing Canada on Amazon Prime alongside national treasures such as Caroline Rhea, Colin Mochrie and Kids in the Hall’s Dave Foley. He has been a writer and “Toronto correspondent” for CBC’s This Hour Has 22 Minutes since 2021. His work as head writer of Drag Race recently won him a Canadian Screen Award in 2022, and his album Capricornication was named one of the Best Comedy Albums of 2020 by NPR’s Bullseye.

We’re discussing the idea of being vulnerable in comedy, which he says was the “genesis” of his upcoming one-man show, The Reclusive Chanteuse, happening at Factory Theatre as part of the We’re Funny That Way LGBTQ2S+ comedy and music festival on Sat., June 1.

“I got this review for my album where I got four stars, and the reason I didn’t get five stars was because they said I wasn’t, like, vulnerable enough,” says Ash-Mohammed. “And I kind of didn’t like that because it was kind of saying that, ‘Okay, if you’re a minority of some sort, you need to share some of your trauma with us — your minority trauma with us.’ That is vulnerability for them.”

Ash-Mohammed never shies away from getting personal in his act. On Capricornication, he delves into growing up with an “ethnically ambiguous” name, coming out to his family, dating, relationships and being gay, Trinidadian and thicc.

“Meanwhile, my straight, white, male counterparts — they wouldn’t have to be vulnerable in their comedy at all, and everyone would just be like ‘ha ha ha, this is jokes.’”

Exploring this idea of “vulnerability” in comedy is what led him to Reclusive Chanteuse, even if it means pushing himself outside his comfort zone as a performer. “I do have a fear of being vulnerable, and I’ve always had a fear of being vulnerable.”

The show will be a mix of stand-up, music, storytelling and audience interaction, where audience members can pick subjects for him to talk about.

“I am scared to do it,” he says about the unpredictable aspect of audience participation. “That is always my biggest fear — of not having full control over everything, and not having everything pre-pre-pre-planned.”

Indeed, that level of control is easy to spot when watching him perform as his material is tightly polished and precisely delivered every time he’s on stage.

The challenge for him with this new show, he says, is about getting to the “next level.” “I’ve noticed recently … I’ll go on stage, and when I can just relax and have fun, that is the most fun I have, and then it’s the best I do, when I’m having the most fun on stage.”