On the night of Sept. 25, Cornell University Program Board hosted comedians Preacher Lawson and Daniela Mora for a “family friendly” Parents’ Weekend show. Filled with both students and parents, Bailey Hall was the site of a hilarious yet categorically mature set from opener Mora and a borderline frenetic performance from headliner Lawson as he experimented with different bits, crowdwork and drinking water.
Daniela Mora, a standup comedian and influencer based in New York, began the night with energy, opening with a quick shoutout to the parents present then transitioning quickly into a joke about how she was told she looked like her dad. Although she quickly went on to prove that her part of the night’s show was firmly not family friendly, almost immediately making a joke about genitalia, she continued with a relatable, albeit self-deprecating set. Though effective, most of her jokes seemed to be differing versions of making fun of her own background, from simply being a woman to being a whitewashed Hispanic woman.
As she progressed, however, she briefly abstracted, moving into hypotheticals like being in a gang, before returning to form with her Hispanic background — from an inability to speak Spanish to her parent’s compulsion to have grandkids. After an awkwardly executed joke about catcalling, Mora stepped back, introducing the show’s headliner and America’s Got Talent alum, Preacher Lawson.
Lawson brought a raucous, electric energy with him as he hip-thrusted onto stage. Almost too much of an escalation for the audience compared to Mora’s calmer set, he took measures to adjust to the crowd, rallying them and hyping them up. The seasoned comedian seemed to be the center of a collective fever dream, cackling absurdly, playing with the mic stand and calling out nonexistent photography flashes in the audience. Beginning with varied stories from his personal life, from his time on AGT to a trip to Africa, he exhibited what would continue to be his defining characteristics for the rest of the show: unique physicality and raw charisma.
With a sheer strangeness that would put most off, Lawson’s exceptional delivery and comedic timing helped him power through many parts of his performance, even when it consisted of waddling around doing different accents. In a nearly hour-long set, he had several great segments; they included dealing with drugs and his girlfriend’s anxiety, sneaking water at night from the toilet bowl, discussing his siblings and bringing his mom onstage.
Lawson’s true magnum opus, however, was drinking water. Explaining later on that every time he performs he drinks four bottles of water, he inadvertently brought attention to it within the first few times he drank. At a point, picking up the bottle began to elicit applause and cheers, organically transforming into another component of his chaotic yet well-assembled set. Following calls to chug, Lawson eventually did, although not without judgment toward the audience for continuing this bit so fervently.
In spite of his comedic prowess, Lawson’s greatest strength was not the jokes themselves; it was his ability to keep the audience with him. In comedy, it is incredibly easy to lose the audience, whether in standup or another format. If the energy slips and the crowd feels uncomfortable or as if they should not laugh, then they simply won’t. However, Lawson toed this line several times, such as during his bit about his girlfriend’s anxiety, stating that, after he realized the mental illness was real, he left her.
The most trying instance of audience control, however, was as Lawson was developing a joke about cat cannibalism. He added in his own grandmother’s death, connecting the two parts in a way that most of the audience found more disturbing than funny. Lawson did not quite beg, but as he had done a few times prior that night, he explained the context of the joke again, reassuring the audience that it was okay to laugh even if he overstepped.
After some crowdwork in the form of a Q&A, Lawson concluded the show with the same rambunctious energy he began it with, with the key difference being how hydrated he was. Although the night was far from truly being family friendly, Mora and Lawson made it worth it, leaving the audience buzzing with excitement even as their performance came to an end.
Aarav Bavishi is a member of the Class of 2029 in the Brooks School of Public Policy. He is a staff writer for the Arts & Culture department and can be reached at arb438@cornell.edu.
