A Harlem-born comedienne and actress, Zainab Johnson, delivers joyous laughter in her debut comedy special, “Hijabs Off,” a performance that calls to mind standup’s Golden Age, free of the cynicism that homogenizes so many modern acts into identical smoothies of low-hanging fruit.

Ms. Johnson is “a proud black Muslim,” one of thirteen children born to parents who converted from Christianity. Another comic might condescend to that family and cultural history. Instead, she speaks of them with a genuine affection and respect that’s refreshing.

If “Hijabs Off” had an anthem, it might be Jackie DeShannon’s 1965 hit song “What the World Needs Now.” In it, she sings that love is “the only thing that there’s just too little of.” Ms. Johnson does a service by increasing the supply of this limited resource.

“My voice is calm, yet confident,” she said of seeking love herself. “I love my voice, but my voice sounds like I’m killing it in life without you. I want the guy to think my life hasn’t even started until he walks in the room.” A running joke about using babytalk to put men at ease was born.

“I’m not naïve,” Ms. Johnson said. “I know that I’m not going to go to the Grand Canyon or Universal Studios souvenir shop” and find a “Zainab” refrigerator magnet. One can feel her joy — especially if we’ve shared that frustration — on seeing the name on everything during a trip to the Mideast.

A semi-finalist in NBC’s “Last Comic Standing,” Ms. Johnson delivered polished and unique material direct to the crowd. Eschewing the traditional perch above the auditorium, against a brick wall or curtain, she stood at the Harlem Stage about eye level in a round.

In this configuration, no facial expression or comment escaped Ms. Johnson’s quick wit. Her uncanny “field sense” was like that of the NHL legend, Wayne Gretzky, who it’s said could be blindfolded at any moment and know where all the other players were on the ice.

The setup allows viewers at home to watch the faces of the crowd and hang on every setup, story, and punchline with them. In a digital entertainment landscape where audiences are often taken for granted, Ms. Johnson made a connection that’s rare.

With so many timeless elements, Ms. Johnson could have been a star in the heyday of Vaudeville, 100 blocks south and 100 years ago at the Hippodrome. She played to real people rather than to the cold, unblinking eye of the camera.

Of those who wonder if Ms. Johnson’s background presents challenges, she has a joke at the ready. “I do get harassed by the Haram Police,” she said, referring to self-appointed arbiters of what’s allowed under Islamic law. 

She “can’t post a photo” without comments that she’s “not a Muslim” because she doesn’t cover her hair. “I’m like, ‘Well, this is a wig.’ … If I ran for office right now, my campaign would be, ‘The wig is the 2023 hijab.’”

This is as close to politics as Ms. Johnson gets, an incredible act of restraint in 2023. It reminded me of Steve Martin, who wrote in his memoir, “Born Standing Up,” about expunging President Nixon from his act in the early 1970’s rather than get lazy laughs just for mentioning his name.

Viewers are left feeling uplifted by the material and Ms. Johnson’s infectious smile. The few risqué jokes are offset by endearing moments. She uses “the B-word” in place of the common slur for women and “R-word” for “roofie,” raised by a man on a date.

Ms. Johnson’s memories of growing up in “‘New Jack City,’ Harlem,” including a shocking story of an abduction that few comics would dare try, sparked nostalgia for locals but had universal appeal. She avoids the victimization so common in today’s comedy, neither leaving out nor belittling anyone.

Ms. Johnson, who holds a degree in mathematics, has found a winning formula for comedy. “Hijabs Off,” streaming on Amazon, is her first special, but if the ghosts of those old Vaudevillians still hold sway, it will not be her last. How fortunate for a world that needs love, sweet love — and sure could use some laughter, too.