Wednesday, July 29, 2026

Therapist Zero: A Conversation with Brian Leonard



As part of this year's Minnesota Fringe Festival, Therapist Zero explores family, mental health, parenting, and the stories we inherit—with equal parts humor and heart.

I recently spoke with writer and performer Brian Leonard about how Therapist Zero evolved from funny stories about his childhood into something much deeper: a show about parenting, resilience, and the imperfect ways we love the people closest to us.

Q: Therapist Zero began with stories from your own childhood. At what point did you realize this was becoming a different kind of show?

Brian Leonard:
When I first started writing the show, it was really about my childhood. Like a lot of people, I grew up in a dysfunctional family and I found myself gravitating toward the more outrageous and funny stories. As my daughter likes to remind me, "I hate stories about your childhood. They never end well."

As I kept writing, I noticed the contrast between the way my parents raised us and the way my wife and I were trying to raise our daughter. We were dealing with severe mental health challenges, cycling through therapist after therapist, and trying to navigate a system that often seemed as confused as we were. Gradually, those stories started to take over.

The show stopped being a collection of funny childhood stories and became something larger: a story about what we inherit from our parents, what we try to do differently, and how imperfectly we all love the people closest to us.

I never wanted this to be confessional theatre or some flavor of drama therapy (Lord knows, I've had enough therapy). It's deeply personal, but the goal was always to tell a story that audiences could see themselves in. Whether they're parents, children, or simply part of a family, people recognize pieces of their own lives in the story. That's when I realized that it wasn't just our story anymore.

Q: You share some deeply personal moments in this show. Was there anything you almost didn't include because it felt too private? What made you decide to keep it in?

Brian Leonard:
When I first started to explore sharing stories about my daughter, I flat out asked her what she thought about that. She considered it for about twenty or thirty seconds and said, "Yeah, that's okay."

When I finished the first draft, I printed it out, handed her a copy with a red Sharpie and told her that I was going to perform it for her. If there was a word, a sentence, or a page that she didn't like or was uncomfortable with, she could draw a line through it. No explanations. No justifications. If she marked it, it was cut.

I performed it for her and at the end she was crying; it was very difficult to hear these moments played back to her. She handed me the script and told me I shouldn't change a word.

She's a very private person, so the fact that I'm able to tell any of this is kind of remarkable. As the script evolved, I continued to check in with her. Sometimes she'd ask me to remove a story or change a detail. Other times she'd suggest a better way to phrase something. Eventually she even started rewriting some of the jokes. I said, "Okay, that's fine, leave the jokes to Dad."

Q: The show reflects on your own childhood and how it shaped the parent you became. Was there a moment while writing or performing it when you realized something about yourself that you hadn't fully understood before?

Brian Leonard:
Yeah, there was a moment during family therapy that shifted the way I thought about my own childhood. I realized that the things I didn't receive as a kid—emotional support, attention, patience, and so on—had made me acutely aware of how much my daughter needed all of those things from me.

I told the therapist, "All the things I'm not, made me all the things I am."

Emily shot me a stink-eye and said, "Did you just quote Kanye? You wonder why we're in family therapy, when Kanye is your spiritual advisor?"

I had to remind her, "Yeezy. I think he wants to be called Yeezy. Or Ye."

That's our family in a nutshell. Even the deepest moments eventually end with somebody getting roasted.

Q: This show seems to ask, What do you do when nothing you've tried is working? Did creating Therapist Zero change how you think about failure, parenting, or even hope?

Brian Leonard:
I don't think the show changed how I parented as much as it helped me understand that parenting isn't about finding the perfect answer, it's about continuing to show up when there isn't one.

Hope is not a strategy. But believing your presence still matters is. Even when you don't know what to do next. That's a much more durable kind of hope.

Q: After audiences see Therapist Zero, what do you hope they're talking about on the drive home? What's the conversation you hope the show starts?

Brian Leonard:
I've heard from a lot of parents who've shared that they thought they were the only ones going through what they are. The circumstances may be different, but the frustration is the same. The sense of helplessness rings familiar.

If the show gives someone permission to have a conversation they've been avoiding, or to see a parent, child, or even themselves with a little more compassion, then I'll take that as a win.

The goal of the show is to entertain, and if people argue over whether we really needed twenty-eight therapists, that's okay too.

About Brian Leonard

Brian Leonard is a writer, performer, and storyteller whose career spans stand-up comedy, television, theater, and animation. A veteran of the stand-up circuit, he has appeared on numerous television comedy programs and has written for performers including Ellen DeGeneres, Jason Sudeikis, and Mindy Kaling. He has also served as a story consultant for Pixar Animation.

His work has earned recognition from the Chicago International Film Festival and the Webby Awards. Therapist Zero is his first solo stage show.


Sunday, July 26, 2026

Sunday Blog Post






improv at “The Others Collective”


my friend Reese” Stand up show

looking at books at Barnes and Noble

 This past week felt like a collection of moments where different parts of my life connected—my past, my creativity, my community, and the stories that continue to shape me.


Last Saturday, I took my son to a gathering at a friend's house. One of the unexpected highlights of the day was reconnecting with a woman I had known in my early twenties. I had met her oldest daughter when she was just a baby, and we had since lost touch. I realized that our sons have become friends, and we now cross paths at the same gatherings. As we caught up, we talked about the different directions our lives had taken since we last knew each other. I shared how much my life had changed, especially my spiritual journey. She smiled and said, "Of course our lives can take different paths."

On Monday, I performed musical improv with my troupe Waxy Conedy at a jam at The Other's Workshop Collective in Minneapolis. This was our team’s second time performing musical improv, and everyone did a great job. ๐ŸŽญ๐ŸŽถ It was exciting to see how much we’ve grown and how the group continues to build confidence together. During one of the scenes, I was able to make a callback to an earlier moment in the performance, and hearing the audience respond reminded me why I enjoy live improv.


Exciting show to be held at The Fringe Festival 2026






Later in the week, I continued building those creative connections through improv rehearsal. We welcomed a new member to the group, explored new scene ideas together, and our instrumentalist joined us on keyboard, adding another layer of creativity to the rehearsal. It was exciting to see new ideas begin to take shape as we worked together.

This week included reconnecting with someone from my past, performing with my improv team, and returning to stories I enjoyed years ago. I’d love to hear about the moments that shaped your week as well.



A Woman’s Place is in the House” by David Alan Berger playing at the Minnesota Fringe Festival

Sunday, July 12, 2026

Sunday blog post

 Wednesday, I took my son to Highland indoor pool. I expected it to be a normal afternoon of swimming, but instead I found myself overhearing a conversation that stayed with me long after we left.

The conversation was between foster parents who were talking about the foster children who were also at the pool. Thankfully, the kids were not present during the conversation, but I was honestly taken aback by what I was hearing. Having spent many years in the foster care system myself, I have seen firsthand how much toxicity can exist in situations where children are already vulnerable. Hearing these children being described mostly through their behaviors and defense mechanisms was difficult because I know there is usually so much more happening beneath the surface.

It was hard for me not to feel protective of these kids. I know that behaviors often come from somewhere, and behind every child is a story that most people never see. At the same time, I also reminded myself that I was only hearing one small piece of a much larger story.

Thankfully, this week has also had plenty of positive moments. ๐Ÿ˜Š

I recently started a new job, so a lot of my time has been spent learning the ropes and figuring out a new routine. It’s always a strange adjustment period being the new person, but I’m slowly getting there.

On Monday, my son and I went to his swimming lesson, only to discover that open swim matter his short lesson was closed. Instead of giving up, we went to another YMCA nearby and made the best of the situation. . ๐ŸŠ

We’ve also been continuing rehearsals with Waxy Comedy as we prepare for upcoming performances and I plan to go to the Fringe Festival in August. There is something exciting about watching ideas come together through theater—the unexpected moments are often the best ones. ๐ŸŽญ

Also I’ve been having a hard time posting pics on blogger even copying and pasting from my iPhone seems difficult so if anyone has tips let me know.

Saturday, June 27, 2026

Sunday Blog post

 

Weekly Recap

This week was filled with family adventures, improv, and a few preparations for the week ahead.

One of the highlights was taking my son to Cascade Bay Waterpark on Thursday. We had a wonderful time floating together down the lazy river ๐ŸŠ‍♀️๐ŸŒŠ. On Friday, we headed to another pool for even more summer fun. Earlier in the week, we also discovered a pickup soccer group for my son through the OpenSports app, which has been a great way to keep him active and meeting other kids ⚽️๐Ÿฅ….

On the creative side, I continued exploring improv in several different ways. I attended a character-focused workshop at the Gamezenter ๐ŸŽญ๐ŸŽฒ, where we practiced creating and sustaining characters on stage. I also participated in an online Meisner improv exercise for the first time and really enjoyed it. One thing I love about online improv is that it gives me the flexibility to participate while driving rideshare or traveling between activities.

I've also been making plans for upcoming musical improv rehearsals with a friend, which I'm looking forward to. Today, I'll be heading to Root Lab, an intimate music venue that hosts indie bands in a garage setting ๐ŸŽต๐ŸŽธ.

Outside of performing, I spent some time researching a new iPad for my son, since his current device is running low on storage. He's getting increasingly excited about the possibility of an upgrade. I also managed to pick up a few treasures at the thrift store and brought home the next book in the Millennium series, The Girl Who Played with Fire. I'm hoping to make some time for reading in the coming weeks.

Overall, it was a full week of creativity, family time, and summer adventures.

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