Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

She’s got a long list of screen credits to her name, including playing the therapist in Netflix series Wednesday, but comedy fans might best know Riki Lindhome as half of the now-dormant musical duo Garfunkel and Oates. So from the outset of Dead Inside, she has to warn her audience this is not an hour of dirty songs but a discussion of her fertility journey. And yes, she hates the word ‘journey’ too.

That said, she then launches into a number called Let’s Fuck, an hilarious track about trying to get it on in middle age while compensating for all the aches and ailments, so the show is not entirely smut-free. And yes, there is a batch of sperm jokes, too.

Lindhome has had a heartbreakingly difficult time in trying to become a mother, with more false starts and crushing disappointments than she can fit into an hour. She can barely get through the final song, so choked by the memories does she become.

Full of ups and downs – mainly downs – her story is emotionally involving and as honest as you would hope a comedian would be. Indeed, such is her commitment to candour she posted unflattering footage of herself shooting up fertility drugs in an airport car park long before this was ever a show. Such openness, as well as natural empathy, means we are with her every step of the way, silently rooting for her.

Dead Inside is more dramatic monologue than stand-up – indeed, the show was originally listed in the theatre section of the Fringe programme before switching to comedy - but Lindhome finds humour in adversity. And, of course, the songs – also including the advice to her unborn child: Please Don’t Google Mommy – are excellent.

However, the show also has its issues. Lindhome pins much of the narrative to the 12-point Hollywood screenwriting device known as The Hero’s Journey, which she argues is only valid for male protagonists (even though Cinderella is the example she cites). It takes a lot of explaining, and asks a lot of the audience when she says, half an hour on: ‘Why don’t I get a step 9?’ and expects us to instantly recall what that was.

There’s also a cracking song retelling The Sound Of Music from the Baroness’s point of view, dumped by Captain Von Trapp for the children’s nanny. Brilliant, but absolutely nothing to do with the story at hand, and feels shoehorned in.

Moments like this give a ‘work-in-progress’ feel – though the sheath of notes Lindhome is still using on day four of her run is a bigger giveaway (and she momentarily forgets her ending, but quickly recovers).

Still, her ‘journey’ has the audience hooked, and will undoubtedly provide you-are-not-alone succour to anyone who has, or is going through, similar experiences.

Review date: 6 Aug 2024
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard