Where creativity meets connection
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Ria Lina might be sharp-witted, but she’s also quite forgiving. Truth is, I can’t find my notes. They might be on the floor behind my feet, but rather than risk looking silly, I’ve decided to plough on. Without breaking eye contact and wearing a smile that I hope exudes the confidence of a man with all the facts, I make an informed guess at the name of her tour. “Riabellion, you mean?” she softly asks, perhaps sensing my growing panic.
Ria Lina isn’t your average stand-up. With a background that spans countries and cultures, she’s become accustomed to dissecting other people’s absurdities. Now touring the nation well into next year, this new work is a loose sequel to her acclaimed Riawakening and a testament to the belief that comedy can do more than make us laugh.
Born in England and educated at an American school in the Netherlands, Lina’s upbringing seems less conventional. “Because I grew up with that environment, I really struggle to see what is British versus what is American,” she explains. “All of it is familiar to me.” This outlier’s perspective gave her a keen eye for the nuances of identity, belonging, and the ever-shifting sands of cultural expectation.
This sense of being both insider and outsider has shaped Lina’s comedy, infusing it with a curiosity and empathy that sets her apart. Perhaps even able to deal with the burning question this week - so what does being British entail? We’re currently hearing so many allusions to our nation’s shared values and identity, but nobody seems to explain what these are.
“I think something that’s incredibly British is pulling together in times of adversity,” she reflects. “I think it’s why we still celebrate World War II. It isn’t just that we won, it’s that people banded together.”
At the heart of Riabellion is the idea of… no surprise… rebellion. Not so much a call to arms as a quiet, persistent questioning of the status quo. “I’m not trying to lead a revolution,” she insists. “I’m just rebelling in my own little way. You know what? I’m gonna rebel in my own corner and try and convince you to rebel in yours.”
In many ways, the show is a response to the world as it is now: uncertain, divided, and in desperate need of both laughter and common understanding. “It’s just an hour of jokes in response to where the world is at right now,” Lina says. “Of course, I talk about being a tiger mom. I talk about going into early perimenopause. But it’s all friendly. I don’t want any guys to go: ‘Oh, I’m put off by that.’ You shouldn’t be. But you should know about these things anyway.”
For Lina, comedy is a way to make the unfamiliar more familiar and maybe even tackle some subjects shrouded in silence or stigma. Perimenopause, for example, seems to be a theme bubbling under throughout the show. “There’s actually about 50 to 100 symptoms of perimenopause, but people only ever know about hot flushes and brain fog,” she explains. “But things can taste different. You can smell different. You can end up with pain in funny places…”
She is quick to point out the broader implications of this lack of awareness. “Most of Western medical science has been based on studies that were only done on men, and so even our understanding of the female heart attack is woefully lacking because we took all the symptoms that men get. Turns out it looks different in women.”
While her stand-up might accidentally offer some education, she’s adamant she’s venturing onstage primarily to entertain. “I’ve aimed for an hour of jokes. You know, there’s a cost-of-living crisis. People can’t afford to go out. So, if you’ve chosen me as your monthly night… You may have paid for a babysitter, a bit of dinner, a couple of drinks... That’s not cheap when you add it all up for two people, and I just want to make sure that everyone has a great time. If I can slip in a little bit of learning or insight, great.”
She does highlight the number of educators who get into comedy. “The concept of standing in front of a class full of people, saying: ‘This is how it is…’ That’s really what it’s about. It’s an opportunity to put your side across.”
But unlike the classroom, the comedy stage offers a freedom from Ofsted inspections, moody teenagers, and parents' evenings. But there is still a similar responsibility, which Lina relishes. “It’s without the constraints of Michael Gove’s national curriculum. There was no required ‘Britishness’ in my set. But I do still discuss what British means.”
Her shows are meticulously crafted, honed through previews and performances until every beat can land where she wants it to. “For me, I needed it perfected within the first week. I had four previews. I used those to sort out what is ‘the hour,’ and then just learned how to perform it better, learned where there were extra little tags.”
She spends time talking about her need to both see and understand others. It seems like a rare commodity in these polarised times. “If someone’s been radicalised, the only way to ‘change’ them is to go all the way over to their side and slowly push them back to the middle. That’s something that nobody’s really taking into account right now. We’ve got people shouting all over the place. Nobody’s actually going: ‘show me your perspective.’ OK. So, vaccines are dangerous and don’t work? What happened to polio?”
Lina says this willingness to engage, listen, and challenge might be a side-effect of being aspergic. “You can’t say ‘Asperger’s’ anymore. It’s autism, but that’s what I was diagnosed with. I do have a constant need to be fair and see both sides. I’m not saying I agree with both sides, but nobody should be confident of their own opinion if they’ve no idea what evidence the other side has.”
Away from the stage, Lina’s life is as full and complex as her comedy. With a family of teenagers and a growing media presence, she navigates the challenges of modern parenthood with the same humour and honesty that define her work. “My kids are used to not seeing me on a Friday or Saturday night…” There’s also an increasing number of her children’s friends following her on social media. “I think that it gives them a greater understanding of comedy. I mean, it gives them greater license to say stuff with their friends. Let’s be honest, they’re channelling me anyway.”
In a world where everyone is eternally online, Lina believes podcasts offer a rare space for genuine conversation and connection. “I think podcasts are great. I’ve just started one called Paper Jam. At 10.30 every Sunday morning, I get three different papers out and go through them with other people. It’s like group therapy for the news!”
As the comedy landscape shifts, Lina is keenly aware of both the challenges and the opportunities. “Traditional media strangled itself a little bit with all the rules. Podcasts have the freedom to offer opinions and do something differently. We have expectations for our news to be serious. That’s why I’ve started Paper Jam. I’m going to tell you what I think, and you tell me what you think. Then we can talk about stuff.”
Ria Lina brings Riabellion to Maidenhead’s Norden Farm on Thu 30 Oct, Komedia Brighton on Thu 5 Feb, and London’s Leicester Square Theatre on Sat 28 Feb, as part of a nationwide tour for 2025/2025. Her podcast, Paper Jam, is available via all the decent platforms.
www.leicestersquaretheatre.com
Image by Rachel Berkowitz
Stuart Rolt
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