Dead Inside - Riki Lindhome Interview

Most people know Riki Lindhome for her razor-sharp comedic timing and her ability to turn awkward social truths into catchy folk-pop anthems. But for the past ten years, Lindhome was living a story she wasn't quite ready to sing about yet.

Enter Dead Inside: a "heartbreaking yet hilarious" solo musical that deconstructs the clinical, often lonely world of fertility. Fresh off a five-star run at the Edinburgh Fringe, Lindhome is bringing her story of loss, laughter, and eventually, life, to the Soho Theatre. We caught up with the multi-skilled star to talk about reclaiming the narrative of the "biological clock" and why, sometimes, the only way to process a decade of IVF is to write a song about it.

You spent a decade on this journey. At what point during those ten years did you realise this wasn't just a life experience, but a musical comedy show? Was there a specific "absurd" moment where a song started forming in your head?
It wasn’t one moment, it was more that the experience kept producing material. I would write a joke or a song just to process something, and then another, and eventually I realized I had a throughline. 

Fertility treatment has this strange mix of high stakes and very unglamorous logistics, and that contrast naturally creates something that feels theatrical. So over time, it shifted from being a collection of material to something that wanted to be shaped into a full show.
 
Comedy and tragedy are famous bedfellows, but fertility is a particularly raw subject. How do you find the line between honoring the heart-tugging moments and leaning into the offbeat humour without losing the audience?
I try not to think of them as separate. The humor comes out of the truth of the situation, not in opposition to it.

If something is genuinely emotional, I let it be emotional. And if something is absurd, I let it be funny. The balance tends to happen when you’re not forcing either one. In my experience, audiences are actually very comfortable going from laughter to something more emotional, as long as they feel like the transitions are truthful rather than forced.
 
How did your years in a musical duo prepare you for the vulnerability of a solo show?
Being in a musical duo gave me a strong foundation in how to build a song, how to shape a joke, how to pace a performance. It also taught me how to read an audience and adjust in real time.

The biggest difference is that in a duo, you’re sharing the responsibility. There’s a built-in support system on stage. In a solo show, everything rests on you. 
 
Does writing about your own literal DNA feel different than writing satirical social commentary?
Yes, very different. Satire creates a bit of distance - you’re observing something and commenting on it. 

There’s a layer between you and the material.

With this, there isn’t that same distance. You’re exposing something personal and specific. It requires a different kind of honesty, but also a different kind of restraint. You have to shape it into something that is legible and meaningful to other people, rather than just expressive for yourself.

Photo by Elisabeth Caren.

 
The title Dead Inside is punchy and provocative. Did naming the show that feel like a way of taking power back from a process (IVF, loss, surrogacy) that can often make a person feel like a "patient" rather than a human?
Honestly the title just made me laugh. I've had very mixed reactions to the title and I understand that. But when you see the show, you realize that the title actually has a double meaning and it's not what you expect. 
 
Society often frames fertility as a linear success story. Your show highlights the unexpected path. How has your definition of motherhood changed from the day you started this journey to the day your son was born?
At the beginning, I had a very clear idea of what the path would look like and how things were supposed to unfold. Over time, that changed. It became more about adapting, pivoting and letting go of certain expectations. 

By the time my son was born, I realized that my journey to have him actually prepared me for motherhood. Once you have a child, you realize that almost nothing goes according to plan and that it's all about adapting on the fly. 

The Fringe is notoriously grueling. After receiving such high praise there, how has the show evolved as you prepare for the Soho Theatre run? Does the audience's reaction change how you perform the more personal songs?
Edinburgh was about discovering what the show was. Since then, I’ve been refining the structure, tightening the storytelling, and rebuilding a lot of the technical elements so everything feels more cohesive.

Audience reactions don’t change the core of the show, but they do help sharpen it. You start to understand where the rhythm is working and where it can be improved.

Is performing Dead Inside night after night cathartic, or does it require you to re-open old wounds? How do you protect your energy while delivering something so intimate?
It's changed over time. Early on, it felt closer to the experience itself, and that could be intense. My director would have to give me a hug after every show. And now it's less about reliving the experience and more about performing the piece. There’s a balance between staying present with the story and also maintaining some distance so it remains sustainable as a performance.
 
Given your background in musical comedy, does your son get treated to the standard nursery rhymes, or is he already being raised on a diet of original, slightly more cynical Riki Lindhome originals?
He's definitely too young for my music. But he does like funny kids songs. His favorite songs are by Parry Grip who sings things like "Cat Flushing a Toilet." 

You’ve spoken about the secrecy and shame surrounding early pregnancy and fertility struggles. If you could change one thing about how we, as a society, talk to women about their clocks or their choices, what would it be?
I think I would remove the assumption that, before a certain age, everyone can have a baby. I assumed I'd be fine and instead, I wish I'd just gone to a fertility clinic in my 20's and checked. 

I think I'd also remove the assumption that there’s a single timeline or a “correct” way for things to unfold. There’s a lot of pressure around what people should be doing and when, and that doesn’t reflect reality. 
 
What was the first piece of theatre you remember having a big impact on your career?
The first play I ever saw live was A Chorus Line and, to this day, I don't think anything's had a bigger impact on my career. I just sat in the audience, in awe, knowing that I had to be part of that life. And on top of that, it was the first time I saw a funny song live. I bought the soundtrack and played it on a loop. 
 
What would you hope someone takes away from seeing Dead Inside?
I hope they feel like they’ve experienced something honest, and that they feel a little less alone in whatever they might be going through. And hopefully they’ve laughed. That’s always the most important part of it. 
 
Riki Lindholme will be performing Dead Inside at Soho Theatre from 31^stMarch – 18^th April. Tickets available HERE.