Dead Inside, Woolly Mammoth Theatre, Washington, DC

 

Riki Lindhome is a woman with a plan in her one-woman show, Dead Inside, at Woolly Mammoth Theatre. Photo credit: Cameron Whitman.

The program describes Riki Lindhome as an actress, comedian, writer, and musician, so it comes as no surprise that Dead Inside, the current offering at Woolly Mammoth Theatre, is listed as “created and performed” by her. “Created” covers a number of tasks, in this instance: she conceived (pun intended) it and wrote the text, as well as music and lyrics for the songs. “Performed” also covers numerous tasks in this one-woman show that is sometimes stand-up comedy, sometimes musical comedy, deeply-felt confessional, satirical, extremely funny, incisive, but also quite tender and moving.

Dead Inside is Riki’s very personal story recounting her “fertility journey,” which she admits is somewhat misleading, since “journey” implies (in her mind) something that is fun. Riki recounts events in her efforts to become a mother with happy-face and sad-face emojis and provides glimpses of “fun,” but mostly her journey is filled with struggles and setbacks, which she explains explicitly with raw frankness. Fertility journeys are a subject with which the vast majority of people are blissfully unaware, unless they or a loved one has followed similar paths. Simply put, most people have no idea how complex medical and social systems are for many who face fertility issues.

Riki Lindhome in Dead Inside. Photo credit: Cameron Whitman.

Riki tells us (and diagrams) her years-long quest with appropriate references to the iconic story of Cinderella, noting that men’s journeys and women’s follow different paths. Images of Cinderella and other Disney princess/heroines (Moana, Ariel, Snow White, etc.) pop up from time to time. She also compares herself to Baroness Schrader, played by Eleanor Parker in the (now-60-year-old) film “The Sound of Music,” often punctuated with projected photos and clips.  Luis Garcia is credited with lighting and clever video design, both of which contribute wit to the spirit of the production.

Riki the person and performer (as opposed to Riki the character) engages charmingly with the audience, which responds to her wry, sometimes-sarcastic humor. The songs, while not especially memorable, feature lyrics with unexpected viewpoints and comparisons. Riki accompanies herself with a guitar and keyboard. (My favorite was a song written for the future child she plans to have, admonishing the child not to Google its mother. A quick Google search on Riki will let you know why that is the case.)

The essence of the performance is that, ultimately, it does not feel like a performance, but like conversational storytelling by a very funny, no-holds-barred friend. Dead Inside seems to me an ironic title, because the story Riki tells is of a woman filled with life, who knows what she wants, and has a plan. And if that plan fails, she’ll find another one, but it’s all about being alive and striving to share that life with a child.

As a performer, Riki is both self-assured and self-effacing: by the end of this 80-minute show, she has earned the empathy and support of an audience with whom she has shared her journey.

Anyone creating and performing her own one-person show needs a strong hand and objective eye to help edit and shape her story for maximum dramatic effect. For Riki, that person is director Brian McElhaney. McElhaney keeps the focus on the integrity of the storytelling. Meghan Raham’s set design suggests one of those fairy-tale forests where Cinderella and Snow White (and others) sought refuge.

Dead Inside has been extended at Woolly Mammoth through August 3.

Riki Lindhome in Dead Inside. Photo credit: Cameron Whitman.