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

C’est décidé je deviens une connasse at Le Rideau Rouge: a bold night of comedy in Lyon

At Le Rideau Rouge, we love nights that feel like a secret shared between stage and audience, and C’est décidé je deviens une connasse is exactly that kind of live-wire encounter. In our intimate room in Lyon, the show lands with the crackle of a confession and the discipline of tight, modern stand-up. Framed by the warm glow of our red curtain and close-up sightlines, the performer takes the crowd by the hand and sprints through everyday hypocrisies, social codes, and those micro-aggressions we let slide to appear “nice.” The premise is simple and exhilarating: reclaim the right to say no, to take up space, to be gloriously unmanageable—without apologizing for it. On our stage, you’ll see a performer who courts complicity with the room, builds laughter from sharp observation, then flips it into self-empowerment. Expect razor-edged bits about office politics, the performative politeness of email signatures, the art of refusing unwanted “advice,” and dating rituals decoded with a wicked grin. The show thrives on audience energy, and in our venue’s close quarters, that energy bounces from seat to seat until the punchlines feel like they’re landing in your lap.

The artist’s current momentum, sharpened for Lyon

We’re welcoming this new chapter of C’est décidé je deviens une connasse precisely because the artist arrives mid-stride, in a creative moment defined by fresh writing and a bolder live presence. Over recent months, the material has been honed in clubs and short-format sets, distilled into a lean, pacey hour that fits the Le Rideau Rouge frame like a glove. If you track today’s stand-up scene, you’ll recognize the contemporary snap: nods to the rapid-fire spirit popularized across platforms and the kind of framing you see celebrated on LOL: Qui rit, sort! or the loose, club-ready rhythm championed at Le Paname Comedy Club. What we host in Lyon is the same appetite for immediacy, but amplified by theatrical polish: disciplined callbacks, smart transitions, and audience interplay that keeps each date unique. Beyond the page, the artist’s current activity reflects a steady stream of short-form bits and workshop sets—quick turnarounds, tried the same night with live audiences, then refined before the next outing. That process gives the show its heartbeat: new angles on familiar topics, sharper tags, a frank, almost journal-like honesty that deepens as the evening goes on. Fans of contemporary francophone stand-up who frequent festival programs or binge the latest comedy drops will feel right at home; this is material written to live, breathe, and spark in a room like ours.

For Lyon spectators, the pleasure is in the proximity: you catch the micro-gestures, the knowing looks, the audible gasp before a punch, and those delicious moments when the performer shifts from biting satire to pure complicity. Le Rideau Rouge is built for that balance—warm acoustics, comfortable sightlines, and the kind of stage-to-seat intimacy that rewards quick wit and fearless crowd work. The show’s architecture leaves room for spontaneous riffs, so each performance can surprise; a stray comment from the first rows might become a running thread, and a local reference can erupt into a brand-new bit that only happens here. Thematically, C’est décidé je deviens une connasse moves from social niceties to self-assertion, touching on everything from family dinners that test your patience to workplace “feedback” that masks power games. It carries the punchy timing you associate with recent comedy formats and keeps a theatrical discipline that fits our room. Arrive a little early, settle in, and let the rhythm take over; by the time the final callback snaps into place, you’ll feel like you’ve been part of a communal dare—to stop apologizing for existing and to laugh, loudly, at the rules that never served you. At Le Rideau Rouge, that dare becomes a shared ritual, one show at a time, one laugh at a time, right here in Lyon.