Kyan Khojandi is a French-Iranian comedian, actor, writer, director, producer, and musician, born in Reims in 1982 to an Iranian father who fled the revolution and a French mother with Italian and German roots. Raised between cultures, with regular visits from his Iranian family and fluent Persian, he grew up with both exile and art in his DNA—his mother a jurist and music lover, his father a geologist turned carpet seller. He studied viola for twelve years at the conservatory, developed absolute pitch, then dropped law studies (to his father’s dismay) to train as an actor at Cours Simon in Paris. Those early years were a grind of open mics, small stages, and sketches on niche TV shows, where he learned to turn self‑doubt, identity questions, and everyday awkwardness into material.

His breakthrough came with Bref. on Canal+ in 2011, co‑created with his close friend and long‑time collaborator Bruno Muschio, aka Navo. Together, they invented a new rhythm for French comedy: ultra‑short episodes, voice‑over monologues, jump cuts, and a character who was both painfully ordinary and strangely universal. Bref. became a cultural phenomenon, and around it grew a creative constellation: friends like Navo, Gringe, Jonathan Cohen, and many others who would later cross paths again in projects like Bloqués, Serge le Mytho, and various Canal+ universes. That success also came with pressure—how do you exist after a generational hit?—and Kyan has often spoken about the weight of expectations, the fear of repeating himself, and the need to reinvent without betraying what made him honest in the first place.

After Bref., Kyan expanded in all directions: cinema (Rosalie Blum, Chinese Puzzle, Lou!, Au revoir là‑haut, Santa & Cie, Adieu les cons, Le Discours, Les Méchants, Le Visiteur du futur), voice work (Les Nouveaux Héros, Garfield, animated features), and stand‑up with shows like La Bande‑annonce de ma vie and Une Bonne Soirée, where he returned to the stage to explore vulnerability, family, love, and anxiety with a disarming sincerity. As a producer and co‑creator, he helped shape series and formats that mix humour and introspection, and with Navo he launched the podcast/video show Un Bon Moment, a kind of safe place where friends, artists, and guests share laughter, doubt, and mind‑blowing anecdotes. Today, Kyan’s career is less a straight line than a living ecosystem—between stage, screen, studio, and podcast—held together by a core obsession: turning the mess of being human into stories that make us feel less alone. In the end, what drives him isn’t fame or format but the simple, stubborn belief that human connection — honest, warm, imperfect — is the most powerful story we can share.