You're Dead to Me is a history podcast with the engine of a comedy panel show and the backbone of a seminar. Greg Jenner introduces a subject, brings in a comedian to ask the disarming question, then turns to an expert historian for the answer with proper weight behind it. The format is simple. The results are lively. Recent episodes range from medieval Irish folklore and the frightening world behind fairy traditions to El Cid's shifting loyalties in 11th-century Spain. Empress Dowager Cixi becomes a story of palace hierarchy, succession and political survival. The telephone episode turns invention into rivalry, yearning, practical confusion and the anticlimax of a first call to the next room. The spice-trade episode connects kitchen cupboards to empire, risk, ships, merchants and the rise of joint stock companies. Other installments take on Gilgamesh, Hypatia of Alexandria and Geoffrey Chaucer, using specialists to keep the stories anchored while comedians keep them moving. The show is not interested in dry recitation. It prefers a question, a bad guess, a correction, and then the historical complication that makes the correction worth hearing. Technical terms are usually softened by context, analogy or a quick comic aside. That matters because the subjects can be dense: medieval literature, Mesopotamian language, Chinese court politics, colonial commerce and Victorian science all pass through the same friendly machinery. The academic guests are allowed to explain, but the pace rarely becomes solemn. The comic guests are not decorative either. Their misunderstandings create useful friction, giving the expert historian a reason to clarify what the past did and did not look like. The pleasure is partly in watching modern assumptions bump into older worlds. Fairies are not just cute. Mercenaries are not easy heroes. A world-changing device may begin as something people admire without knowing what to do with it. You're Dead to Me suits listeners who want history with rigor, but not reverence for dullness. It is generous, curious and quick on its feet.