[Trigger Warning: Suicide]
Bo Burnham’s new special is a creeping whiplash that we delve into headfirst; through visually-stunning, non-linear and haphazard shots. All filmed in a single room, with Bo as the sole actor, writer, director, and editor. By the end of the experience, there’s a lingering claustrophobia of being locked in a room with him while he struggles to complete his special. The camera frame narrowing and widening to perfectly shift the perspective and encapsulate his performance stage between the three walls.
There are lighter moments amidst the bleakness of the journey, such as his songs “FaceTime with my Mom”, “Healing the World with Comedy” and “White Woman’s Instagram” (which arguably levies an abrupt critique of the criticism itself (a roast of the roast)). These are short-lived and carry a mature resemblance to his old songs — but without the quips and quirks for audience reactions. In fact, his past stand-up suddenly looks darker, if viewed through the lens of his new special. In ‘Inside’, he uses the audience laughter as a tool to add an eerie and melancholy effect, and how his jokes don’t work without constant audience engagement at every moment.
However, by revisiting his previous stand-up specials, we can find rare moments where he delivers a line so subtly dark — that the audience either misses it entirely, laughs unknowingly, or falls in an uncomfortable silence of the realisation what has just been said. Thus, Bo Burnham feels the strain of his tumultuous relationship with the audience — and the world — where he feels the need to entertain, while simultaneously resenting them.
It is not new for Bo to emphasise the unhealthy mechanics of parasocial relationships and the blind faith consumers have in entertainers — to act morally, or mirror their expectations. But entertainers, he reinforces — are simply fakes. This is an integral reminder for when he breaks down on camera, or has an emotional outburst alone in his room — that this is being filmed. Everything we see, has been meticulously crafted and arranged by Bo himself. In the real world, apart from his stand-ups, he is rarely in the spotlight. Thus, the special leaves us feeling as though we have unintentionally invaded Bo’s most private moments by watching them onscreen. But that’s not entirely true. Bo simply invited us into his possible-backyard-studio to envision his life as he presents it, but as he previously stated “I’m not honest for a second up here”. Then is it a staged-insight into the crippling effects of mental illness during the pandemic, or is it a dark, visual diary of his struggles, which unintentionally turned out this way? The answer is not for us to know.
Over the course of the movie, it is not hard to see why Bo struggles with completing it. He is now facing the toughest audience yet — himself. As he watches back his old and new content in a dark room alone, he exudes the behaviour of perfectionists and those who are lingering on the edge of giving up their passion projects. He reacts to his own reaction videos — resulting in an endless loop of analysing himself. He plays a video game of his own life where his day only consists of crying. These bits are not lost on anyone who has suffered through a mental health crisis.
This brings us to the recurring theme of casual suicide ideation which follows us along the duration of ‘Inside’. While suicidal ideation can range from a dull feeling of wanting to end one’s life — but without any plan to do so, to severe urges, which lead to actual attempts. ‘Inside’’s grip on the viewer strengthens long after the special is over, and its depiction of casual suicide ideation is one reason for that. It’s easy to get over a depressing film if the feeling is contained within the confines of the time duration of the film itself. If it exaggerates and pins the misery on the plot, leaving us feeling relieved to have our own life back, once it’s over. ‘Inside’ is not such a film. Bo captures the pitiful essence of wanting to take our life — but just not badly enough.
Thus, the ideation is stripped of its severity or danger, but it exists as a lowly, nagging feeling, like an itch we cannot scratch. He would never kill himself — he assures himself/us, which takes away the burden of worry from the outside world — leaving him/us to deal with the unambitious thoughts of taking ones own life — but only metaphorically.
The reason this element strikes sharply is because the concept suicide has been exploited and subsequently glorified by the entertainment industry. The TV series “13 Reasons Why” is the most prominent, yet not the only — example. As viewers we have become desensitised to watching suicide occur on screen, characters plead with one another, romance and closure ensues — or doesn’t. We may cry in the moment, talk about it online and then move on. Dramatic displays of self-harm and suicidal tendencies do not faze us anymore, but casual ideation of suicide, while knowing its aftereffects and problems — is a darker, more realistic truth of the society we reside in.
It can be argued that these sentiments are only growing dangerously through social media, where comedic, suicidal tweets are retweeted in hundreds and thousands. How does one heal when depression has become the standard of living? When those we idolise are recording their mental breakdowns for us to watch online? This leads to cyclical mental illness patterns, which become harder to escape as everyone (unintentionally) reinforces our depressive cycles, with their own. Feeling better comes with an added guilt knowing that everyone around us is sick, and an anticipation for the next hit of a mental health spiral, just so we can return to the new normal.
It’s bizarrely comforting to be surrounded by people who feel the same way, yet are utterly incapable of providing us the support we need to get better. Unfortunately, this can be attributed to the over-destigmatisation of mental illness, to the point where now no one can stop talking about their mental health, whether anyone around them can help, or not.
The brief scene of Bo watching his anti-suicide monologue back, in utter indifference, is a motif for how we consume positive mental health content in the modern day, with utter indifference — but always eager to hypocritically pass it on. He brings up the media’s commodification of subjective human experiences, especially children — and we are reminded of the young age at which Bo himself entered the entertainment industry. Although he actively resents and calls out the plot of the game, it’s one that he still plays. As always, synth music and catchy electro-pop, make the backbone of the theatrical performance, and level out the derangement of the self-referential content he offers.
The unnerving scene transitions and crisp music video montages, exceed all expectations from a self-filmed, one-act, (not) comedy special. The pristine cinematography doesn’t leave a single second for boredom — even in the many gaps of silence in the film. His execution is precise, purposeful and perfectly unhinged.
There’s a lot more that can be over-explained, in a feeble attempt to unfold the psyche of ‘Inside’. But tearing it inside out, would only do it injustice. At the end of the day, it should be viewed just as it is — an ex-stand-up comedian’s, cynically-humorous commentary on the world, on himself and on us.
