Bo Burnham: Inside (2021)

Film: Bo Burnham: Inside (2021)

Stars: Bo Burnham

Director: Bo Burnham

Oscar History: Is it eligible?  You could make a sincere argument that if they're going to allow something like Luca to be eligible, this should be too, but I'd assume this is more of an Emmy play (and I suspect it'll compete).

Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

While YouTube has had its occasional crossover stars, most obviously Justin Bieber (a figure so famous we don't think of him as being a YouTube figure in the first place), in terms of the world of acting (rather than music), the platform has struggled to have its figures achieve genuine, "I'm no longer a YouTube star in a movie, but actually just a movie star" success.  Bo Burnham, though, appears the most likely to change that.  The guy who got his name out there first for writing quippy, bawdy, and boundary-pushing songs in his attic decided instead of taking the easy cash-grab when it came to moving into mainstream film, he would put in the time on a project he worked on for five years, Eighth Grade.  The movie was the right move-Burnham earned raves for the film, including from yours truly, and followed that with a key supporting turn in the Best Picture nominee Promising Young Woman, for which he was excellent (and should have been cited for an Oscar).  Burnham seems to be opening up more doors for himself, in venues not typically allowed for YouTube figures, and will next be seen in Oscar winner Adam McKay's TV miniseries about the LA Lakers (the lanky actor will play Larry Bird).

(Spoilers Ahead) But Burnham has not entirely left behind the kid singing in his attic, which is what happens with his latest venture Inside, a movie that navigates across genre with ease but is difficult to pin down: is it a comedy special? documentary? concert film?  It's impossible to quantify.  Essentially, the movie itself is focused on Burnham actually filming a special during long stretches of the pandemic, capturing in real time what it was like to create a large-scale, solo project, during quarantine.  The film, as it goes further, becomes a meta-commentary on Burnham's ability to handle the project while his mental health waivers, to the point where the word "trigger warning" is definitely appropriate for the film itself.  We see Burnham grappling with his mental health issues, particularly around anxiety, coping with issues such as aging, world affairs, and the inherent loneliness of a year alone, all while continually interspersing with musical numbers talking about, well, all of these issues.  The film's end result is one of hope, as he eventually leaves his house (just like we have been doing the past few weeks), but likely forever scarred by the experience.

Burnham's Inside, as I mentioned above, is difficult to pin down.  This is, for my money, more than a mere "comedy special," as while there is a brilliance that can happen within that confine, this feels more like a performance piece, morphing into a proper movie.  It's impossible to know with Burnham, who has spent years cultivating a specific type of onscreen persona, what is real and what is imagined.  He will show a deep sincerity in one scene, and then almost instantly snap back into a comic figure, trying to stop you from boxing him in (perhaps as an entertainer, but more perhaps as a defense mechanism).  This will make it difficult, I'm sure, for people obsessed with awards, to know where to classify what Burnham is achieving (I know I'm going to have issues with it), but if you can move beyond that and just appreciate, you're in for a treat.

That's because what Burnham is doing here is extraordinary, one of (if not the) best things I've seen so far this year in the world of entertainment.  The film starts out quite funny, and borrowing from past Burnham specials (which are all very good-I'm an ardent admirer), with songs like "White Lady Instagram" which blends the absurdity of our performative lives with, in a long soliloquy toward the end of the song, the way that we use Instagram for a cover for what we're actually feeling.  As the film progresses, though, it becomes much more than his past work.  We see an artist crafting an increasingly meta Jenga tower, a figure struggling with the pandemic & the isolation it causes, but also admitting that it's not just the pandemic-the laser focus of spending a year inside makes us see some of the worst about our lives, the things we had put out-of-sight but couldn't when forced to spend so much time with ourselves.  Burnham watches a video of himself as a young man, singing one of the songs that, upon rewatch, might not be appropriate for a straight, white man to sing, and then doing a number called "Problematic" about his struggles with having lived a life so openly on the internet.

The film hits its climax, in my opinion, when Burnham trots out "Welcome to the Internet" after a particularly daunting breakdown, one that feels less staged & more a result of his quarantined status.  The song is marvelous, with Burnham taking on the role of a mad carnival barker (complete with round sunglasses in a dark room adding to the claustrophobia), singing about the wonders & horrors of living a life on the internet, where we can never truly escape.  "Apathy's a tragedy and boredom is a crime" he trills alongside how the internet ranges from pasta-cooking tips to behavior that borders on sexual assault...but where the only true offense is not continuing to engage with the platform further & further & further.  It's a dark number, and while the rest of the film allows for some hope, it's this song that sticks with you in the hours after you watch it, giving us little respite from the daunting knowledge that the internet is going to, always, get you back.

The result is a sophisticated, all-timer one-man show, with Burnham in peak comedic, musical, & dramatic flare.  It's difficult to see this not becoming a defining chapter in Burnham's career if he does continue to deliver on this promise of becoming a proper star (either as an actor or filmmaker)-it has that kind of "genius has arrived" appeal that announces a new generational talent, where even those who weren't fans beforehand will stand up and take note.  Inside, better than anything I've read or seen, captures the abject horror of the past year's isolation, loneliness, & fear...and the way that it doesn't feel like, even as we "return to normal," that this is a normal we should have been able to accept to begin with.