Director: Sherisse Mohammed
Release Year: 2016
Release Year: 2016
In the landscape of contemporary documentary filmmaking, there are stories that ask to be told, and then there are stories that demand to be seen. Mandy: A Documentary, directed by Sherisse Mohammed, is unapologetically the latter. Centering on the life and evolution of Mandy Goodhandy, a trailblazing trans woman, comedian, author, and sex work advocate, this film is an unflinching, soulful, and deeply humanizing portrait of someone who not only defied societal expectations but also rewrote the terms of her own existence.
For those unfamiliar with Mandy Goodhandy, this documentary is a compelling crash course. A seasoned Toronto business owner, a classically trained singer, and a pioneer in more ways than one, Mandy (also known as Amanda Jayne Taylor) is not only Canada’s “first known” transgender stand-up comic but also an outspoken trans activist who has embraced every chapter of her life, no matter how complex or controversial, with fearless honesty. Her life story, which begins in a small Ontario town as a gender-conflicted child and ultimately arrives at an unapologetically self-assured womanhood, is both remarkable and revelatory. From the very beginning, the documentary strikes an intimate and confessional tone. Through candid interviews, archival footage, and voiceovers from Mandy herself, we’re invited into her earliest memories: a young child, tormented by confusion, being asked by peers, “Are you a boy or a girl?” Her response was always, “I’m a boy,” but she knew deep down that something felt different. Yet, even in those moments of childhood disorientation, Mandy’s resilience shimmered. There is a heart-wrenching sequence where she reflects on her father's quiet love, his pride hidden in locker photos and newspaper clippings, never spoken aloud. It’s a rare glimpse into how unspoken support can still shape a life, even if cloaked in silence.
What sets Mandy: A Documentary apart from many other trans-centered narratives is its refusal to sanitize or reduce Mandy’s experience. The documentary does not shy away from the most stigmatized aspects of her journey, particularly her work in the sex industry. In one of the film’s most powerful segments, Mandy recounts how sex work became a crucible for her self-discovery, not something that “happened to her,” but something she entered on her own terms. “It wasn’t because I was a sex worker,” she says with clarity and pride. “It was because I felt real.” There’s no pity here, only agency. This is perhaps the documentary’s greatest triumph: its commitment to showing Mandy not as a victim or a symbol, but as a fully fleshed-out human being, smart, witty, complex, and unfiltered. Director Sherisse Mohammed wisely lets Mandy tell most of her own story. There’s a rhythm to her voice, equal parts cabaret raconteur and seasoned stand-up comic. Her stories oscillate between trauma and hilarity, between vulnerability and absolute defiance. Whether she’s recalling her days as “Johnny Fantasy,” the male stripper-turned-drag performer, or describing the surreal moment she was propositioned outside her apartment building (“You can’t afford me, dear”), Mandy maintains a control of the narrative that’s nothing short of masterful. It’s not just what she says, it’s the way she says it. She is not just the subject of this film; she is its pulse.
Visually, the documentary doesn’t try to dazzle, nor does it need to. The cinematography is straightforward and respectful, allowing Mandy’s expressions and emotional honesty to take center stage. Subtle musical cues and archival footage, particularly of her theater performances and early media appearances, add dimension to her evolution. The editing, too, is deft and intentional, weaving Mandy’s personal reflections with her public persona as a comedian and advocate. Comedy, in fact, is one of the most powerful threads running through the film. Mandy’s stand-up routines, often peppered with sharp social commentary, serve as catharsis, not only for her, but for the audience. Her performances are layered with biting wit and political edge: “Yes, I said it,” she jokes from the stage, owning her identity and wielding it like a sword. In an industry that often marginalizes trans voices or treats them as novelty acts, Mandy’s presence is both revolutionary and deeply needed.
The film also explores Mandy’s role as a trans advocate and her criticism of Canadian sex work laws. She makes a passionate, well-articulated argument for the decriminalization and regulation of sex work, emphasizing bodily autonomy and the need for protection rather than criminalization. Her approach is not academic but lived, her insights earned through experience, and her platform used to uplift others who are often voiceless in public discourse. One of the most poignant sequences comes late in the film, when Mandy sits at a dinner table surrounded by fellow sex workers, all of whom echo a shared sentiment: that they’ve been made to feel shame for doing what makes them feel in control, powerful, and free. “We’re not allowed inside what we want to do with our bodies,” Mandy declares, and the camera lingers just long enough to make us feel the weight of that truth.
Sherisse Mohammed deserves full credit for creating a film that doesn’t merely document a life, it amplifies it. With sensitivity, courage, and cinematic grace, she offers viewers a front-row seat to a story that is at once deeply personal and strikingly political. Her direction refuses voyeurism, instead encouraging understanding, respect, and empathy.
Mandy: A Documentary is more than just the story of Canada’s first known transgender stand-up comic, it is a rallying cry for authenticity, a blueprint for resilience, and a celebration of one woman’s refusal to be defined by societal binaries. Through tears, laughter, glitter, and grit, Mandy Goodhandy emerges not just as a survivor, but as a cultural force.
This is not a film you watch once and forget. It’s a film you carry with you, long after the credits roll, because it challenges your assumptions, redefines what it means to live unapologetically, and invites you to laugh, cry, and cheer alongside a woman who has made being herself her greatest punchline and her proudest revolution.
A bold, necessary, and unforgettable portrait of a trans icon.
via: youtube
Image credits: YouTube
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