Bo Burnham: Inside

Bo Burnham: Inside

The problem with the incessantly recurrent themes of the pandemic is that most of us who have been stuck mostly in our rooms are all too well-acquainted with our emotional core of anxiety, isolation and depression. As such, to me, Inside is a slog of familiarity, only made worse by unoriginal humor and a kind of pseudo-self-awareness that could have been used for so much more.

I'll admit, I'm a huger fan of music than movies, and I thought that would help the film's case, but while the music was alright (and the only reason why this wouldn't be a half-star review), it merely served as a vehicle for jokes I've heard a million times without a single shred of cleverness or creativity. Throwing shade at Jeff Bezos and modern hyper-capitalistic culture isn't funny without any proper execution to make it work, and neither is singing a song about the internet that has about as much depth as a puddle. I know comedy is subjective, but how many self-deprecating depression-related jokes can someone possibly stand without rolling their eyes?

Inside is a overly self-indulgent project whose personal appeal to non-creators will be something I'll never understand. It has its moments (Sexting/White Girl Instagram), but those moments are better isolated in their own YouTube videos, and not as part of a bloated, superficial special that brings nothing emotionally or thematically or even comedically.

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