ajhlovestheatre

RIKI LINDHOME: DEAD INSIDE 

Soho Theatre – Dean Street, London – until 18 April 2026

running time: 70 minutes no interval 

https://sohotheatre.com/events/riki-lindhome-dead-inside/

Delight (ours) and pain (hers) sit side-by-side in Dead Inside, with empathy squeezing in somewhere in between. American actress and musician Riki Lindhome’s unique, self-penned show is a fusion of musical comedy, confession, bravery and bat-shit crazy. It’s wholly irresistible but cuts surprisingly deep when it needs to. 

The depth is essential, indeed inevitable: Dead Inside deals with that most sensitive and personal of topics, female infertility, specifically as experienced by Lindhome, whose sunny, kooky stage persona occasionally fissures to reveal authentic, but understandable, darkness. She’s a self-described “delusional optimist” but there’s a whole lot more to her than that, including killer comedy chops and an ability to write and perform satirical songs that suggest a sexually explicit, American Victoria Wood.

Equipped only with a guitar, a flute, a keyboard (all of which she plays), a video screen, some bubbles and a winning presence, Lindhome describes the various processes and psychological challenges involved in being a woman longing for a child while being acutely aware that time is ticking by. She wryly rejects the patronisingly cosy term “fertility journey”, reasoning, rightly, that men don’t couch their health struggles in such a way, i.e. nobody ever talks about their “gout journey”.

As well as her screen work as an actress, Lindhome is half of a comedy-folk duo Garfunkel And Oates: her consummate skills as musician and comedienne are here coupled with raw lived-life experience, a commendable willingness to laugh at herself and an even more commendable eschewing of self-pity. Collectively, this makes her the perfect conduit through a thorny, potentially distressing story that examines how society judges childless women as much as it’s about biological need. Miscarriage, channelling anger through avoidance, Disney Princesses, despair…it’s all laid out here. Lindhome is tremendously likeable, shuffling on with the insouciance of a charismatic goofball whose self-deprecating manner masks a lethal wit and intelligence that periodically get unleashed to devastating effect.

The humour and indeed the genuine, uncomfortable humanity are all the more potent because they’re punctuated by attractive parodic songs that seem sugary-sweet…until you listen to the potty-mouthed lyrics. Lindhome puts them over with a twinkle-eyed charm that often looks on the verge of tipping over into delicious madness. The Sound of Music number which retells the story from the point-of-view of the increasingly embittered Baroness is an absolute masterpiece. My only criticism is that the sound could be better, the music overwhelming Lindhome’s pleasing but not exactly power-packed vocals.

Dead Inside is a deceptively clever show, making something bracingly entertaining, but never trivial, out of a traumatic, troubling topic. I would imagine it’ll feel like finding a friend for many women, though for others it may be too painful to watch. It ends on a satisfying nemotional note, entirely earned, that I won’t spoil here. This Soho season, following on from acclaim at the Edinburgh Festival, will surely see Riki Lindhome’s British fan base expand, she’s wonderful.