Lacee Rains Comedy Special: “Face/On”
LowDown
April 5, 2024
Tulsan Lacee Rains is a former slam poet turned self-described clown — ”the president of idiotville!!!!!” as her Threads profile puts it. In “Face/On,” her first comedy special, filmed live at LowDown, she took a sold-out audience on a fascinating journey that proves she is also a triumphant comedian.
Before filming began, the usually-moody underground jazz club crackled with energy, the crowd growing, the cocktails flowing. Tulsa’s comedy community turned out big in support of Rains. Evan Hughes, a producer for the special, introduced the night and warmed the crowd’s heart with his vintage blazer and signature soft-serve jokes.
Chaz “Thunderwof” Stephens, another popular Tulsa comedian, kicked off the show in a searing-red blazer and black shades with an opening set that raced by. Thunderwof’s unique delivery leans on a unique method. He writes the jokes, as he said, but he doesn’t choose the jokes. Instead, a friend stationed across from the stage drew prompts Thunderwof had prepared and read them out loud for the comic to riff on. If a joke didn’t land, Thunderwof dropped it and called for another prompt: no pauses or transitions in the action. He was able to draw gobs of material out of thin air, like a magician pulling jokes out of an enchanted hat. His act kept the audience’s attention rapt and ready for the night’s main event.
With an engaged crowd seated right up close, Rains took the stage in a striking vintage red pantsuit, exuding playful charm. She commanded the audience for nearly an hour with an impressive amount of sharp material. She swam mischievously in the choppy waters of her “competitive” Catholic upbringing, her battle with mental health and an eye-opening stay in a mental ward after suffering from suicidal ideations.
She deep-dived into her delusional relationship/obsession with Nicolas Cage and the creation of her alter ego “Butterslutz the Sex-Ed Clown,” as well as getting engaged recently after years of strange, disappointing dating experiences. Punchline after punchline landed well with a rowdy crowd. Before being released from that mental ward, she was instructed to list two reasons she wanted to stay alive. “I put Nicolas Cage,” she crowed, “and to be Butterslutz the Clown.”
The real punchline is: she was serious. Rains salvaged her own mental health through comedy and clown makeup—telling jokes to save her own life.
Her obsession with Cage offered plenty of fodder, but it was Rains herself and her clownish alter ego who proved to be the true stars of the show — particularly as she ventured into material about her serious, lifelong interest in the overlap between sexuality and spirituality.