C'est Décidé, Je Deviens Une Connasse - Le Rideau Rouge - Lyon

Le Rideau Rouge welcomes C'est décidé, je deviens une connasse

At Le Rideau Rouge, we love nothing more than hosting a show that feels tailor-made for our intimate room and razor-sharp audience, and C'est décidé, je deviens une connasse lands on our stage with exactly that spark. From the cushioned red seats to the low-lit ambiance that keeps performer and crowd in the same breath, our venue is designed for comedy that thrives on nuance, speed, and audacity. This season, the artist arrives with a refreshed hour that has been sharpened in clubs and festival slots, an energetic blend of confessional storytelling, precise character work, and quick-fire punchlines. On social platforms, short-form clips teasing bits like Le brunch de l’enfer, Détox digitale, and Gestion de crise chez le fleuriste have been drawing a buzz, and our team has felt that anticipation translate into the lobby chatter long before showtime. As a house, we’re mindful of the rhythm of a modern comedy night—our technicians calibrate mic warmth for intimate asides and crank the punch when crowd laughter crests—so that the set’s swings from petty rebellions to heartfelt epiphanies are as crisp as the first sip at the bar. For regulars who come to Le Rideau Rouge to catch work in full flight, this is a night where the material’s recent life—live, online, and in new sketch cycles such as Réunion Zoom chez les toxiques and Mode avion affectif—meets the kind of room that rewards every raised eyebrow and throwaway improvised line.

Inside the show: attitude, autonomy, and the art of the well-placed eye-roll

C'est décidé, je deviens une connasse is not a lecture but a liberating manifesto disguised as a laugh-a-minute set, and from our vantage point—side wings, sound booth, back row—we can feel how the writing lands. The arc hops from workplace diplomacy (aka How to say no without a footnote) to romantic negotiations (what happens when ghosting meets administrative tenacity), to the gentle spectacle of group chats imploding at 2 a.m. Several recent sketches that fans will recognize—Masterclass passive-agressive, Coaching en culpabilité, and Miracle morning… pour râler mieux—slot into the hour as recurring motifs, giving the evening a rhythm that is both theatrical and delightfully chaotic. Our stage at Le Rideau Rouge is compact enough to turn a shrug into a set piece: one moment the performer’s perched on a stool, dissecting “nice girl” reflexes with surgical calm; the next, the room breaks into applause when a character refuses to apologize for taking up space. The production rides a nimble tech design: warm spots for confessions, splashes of cool light for mock boardroom parodies, and underscored stings that set up quick transitions into bits like Vidéos de rangement, crise existentielle and On fait un point? Non. Our audience in Lyon loves this blend of self-deprecation and steel, and it’s been a joy to balance that energy—letting the laughter breathe as ad-libs emerge, then snapping back into tightly written beats. Beyond the hour, the artist’s current creative life is thriving: new live extracts circulate weekly, pop-up late-night sets keep the material evolving, and a rotation of fresh mini-sketches—Journée sans filtre, Planner pour procrastiner, and Thérapie… par SMS—signals a voice that’s both prolific and wonderfully precise, arriving at Le Rideau Rouge with timing to match.