Inside (Bo Burnham, 2021)

[therewillbeblus]

Bo Burnham: Inside

I was really not expecting to enjoy Bo Burnham's latest comedy special on Netflix (I never cared too much for his music-based comedy, viral videos, etc.). I definitely feel a kinship to Burnham that isn't always comparatively favorable. He is a year my junior and grew up a few towns over from me (and randomly dated my ex's best friend in high school- no I didn't meet him), similarly politically-minded, suffers from anxiety, yet he's tremendously driven and successful in ways I've always wanted to be but am not. However, as seen here, his specific perspective on our society also seems to mirror my own, so it's with complete surprise that I found Bo Burnham: Inside to be beyond excellent.

Burnham's latest is a unique masterpiece of self-reflexivity, from manipulations on the medium's technique to topical reflective insights on white upper class liberals' strained experience of contradictory impetuses in myopic self-indulgence and honest social justice goals, utilizing our cultural devices from trending abstractions and digestible methodologies to communicate this anti-satire. He humorously and confrontationally exposes our incompatibly guilt-driven and moral motivators, and unfamiliar powerlessness impeding desire for change, all whilst acknowledging the egocentric and problematic behavior of stepping into the spotlight, pitting himself on a level equal to everyone without the superiority one would expect from this kind of woke work. It's like a battle between post-modern and post-post-modern attitudes, sincerely expressing and validating the intentions, shame, apologias, need to be seen front and center, and the desire to want all, as well as demonstrating the irony from the self-imposed necessity of these existential burdens as temporal gravitas.

Where Burnham subverts expectations is that he never supposes that our sociopolitical evolutionary patterns are meaningless, instead suggesting an objectively morphing internal logic that is integrally meaningful in its reflection of the inescapable zeitgeist. This is less of a viewer-aggressing exercise and more of a vehicle into Burnham's own social-emotional conflict, surreally refracted through the prisms of our cultural climate and pandemic-induced destabilization via stripping of our supports. The film isn't really a comedy special, any more than it's a mockumentary or musical or omnibus of comedic skits, music videos, and tragically-futile commentary about urgent issues recognized as such (from mental health to world events- drenched in acidic pathos, then consciously compensating for this anger with humor), embodying diverse styles strung together with a madcap connective tissue, as if concocted by a man trapped in isolation for a year. If anyone's seen a Pop-Up Art show, this is a bit like that - utilizing multiple forms of media and performance simultaneously to stimulate the audience's senses. I loved it, and I hope he continues to make art like this.

[thirtyframesasecond]

Bo Burnham: Inside

I was really not expecting to enjoy Bo Burnham's latest comedy special on Netflix (I never cared too much for his music-based comedy, viral videos, etc.). I definitely feel a kinship to Burnham that isn't always comparatively favorable. He is a year my junior and grew up a few towns over from me (and randomly dated my ex's best friend in high school- no I didn't meet him), similarly politically-minded, suffers from anxiety, yet he's tremendously driven and successful in ways I've always wanted to be but am not. However, as seen here, his specific perspective on our society also seems to mirror my own, so it's with complete surprise that I found Bo Burnham: Inside to be beyond excellent.

Burnham's latest is a unique masterpiece of self-reflexivity, from manipulations on the medium's technique to topical reflective insights on white upper class liberals' strained experience of contradictory impetuses in myopic self-indulgence and honest social justice goals, utilizing our cultural devices from trending abstractions and digestible methodologies to communicate this anti-satire. He humorously and confrontationally exposes our incompatibly guilt-driven and moral motivators, and unfamiliar powerlessness impeding desire for change, all whilst acknowledging the egocentric and problematic behavior of stepping into the spotlight, pitting himself on a level equal to everyone without the superiority one would expect from this kind of woke work. It's like a battle between post-modern and post-post-modern attitudes, sincerely expressing and validating the intentions, shame, apologias, need to be seen front and center, and the desire to want all, as well as demonstrating the irony from the self-imposed necessity of these existential burdens as temporal gravitas.

Where Burnham subverts expectations is that he never supposes that our sociopolitical evolutionary patterns are meaningless, instead suggesting an objectively morphing internal logic that is integrally meaningful in its reflection of the inescapable zeitgeist. This is less of a viewer-aggressing exercise and more of a vehicle into Burnham's own social-emotional conflict, surreally refracted through the prisms of our cultural climate and pandemic-induced destabilization via stripping of our supports. The film isn't really a comedy special, any more than it's a mockumentary or musical or omnibus of comedic skits, music videos, and tragically-futile commentary about urgent issues recognized as such (from mental health to world events- drenched in acidic pathos, then consciously compensating for this anger with humor), embodying diverse styles strung together with a madcap connective tissue, as if concocted by a man trapped in isolation for a year. If anyone's seen a Pop-Up Art show, this is a bit like that - utilizing multiple forms of media and performance simultaneously to stimulate the audience's senses. I loved it, and I hope he continues to make art like this.

I've seen it a couple of times now and it's still a heck of a lot to process and consider. I saw him at Edinburgh about a decade ago, when he just started being talked about - and a lot of the older comedians, who'd obviously slogged it through clubs and dives clearly, weren't fans - but on the flip side, Burnham was basically a teenager who used online video and social media for his comedy but would arguably suffer most from its negative consequences e.g. the ability for anonymous posters to just write hateful stuff about you. Handling that is rough at any age, but worse for a young guy.

I don't know how I'd define it. Comedy? Well, some of it is funny. I'm certainly not sure whether I'd recommend it to anyone who wanted to watch something humorous. Unless your humour is watching a young guy undergoing mental health issues over a prolonged period. It's pretty uncomfortable throughout really, particularly with its Truman Show-esque ending. Best to think of it more as performance art really. It's left the narrow confines of comedy way behind. It's very meta, very much into big issues (labour exploitation, the cult of the billionaire, white guilt/privilege, power and oppression - as Socko the puppet finds out to his dismay). I wonder whether you'd suggest a double bill with something from Nathan Fielder to someone unsuspecting.

If you're not into the idea of watching 90 mins of something likely to make you feel worse than when you started it, the soundtrack is on Spotify, though the songs benefit from the visuals (some of the 'music videos' are on Youtube). White Women's Instagram punctures the online sharing of superficially perfect but shallow lifestyles, but with a surprising kick halfway through. Welcome to the Internet is cheerily malevolent about how being online allows us to be exposed to 'everything and anything all of the time" and the dangers within. FaceTime with my Mom is a synthy, almost slow-jam about the weekly catchups with parents during the pandemic ('these forty minutes are essential') which deteriorate into sheer boredom because your parents can't use technology or just tell you about what's happening in The Blacklist. All Eyes on Me is an update/upgrade on his previous Kanye-esque 'Can't Handle This, all moody synths and processed vox.

It's a terrific special - but it will put you through the wringer.

[therewillbeblus]

Nice appreciation, thirtyframesasecond! I’ve also been tirelessly consuming this special’s contents (I watched it three times in six days, have been listening to various songs daily, and generally binging on other Bo Burnham content, which has now been charitably recontextualized in a whole new light). I’ve arrived at a reading that I may expand upon when we do the Musicals List project, but I essentially see this film as a musical forged from the corporeal material of our harsh reality. The musical numbers are clearly constructed as videos dominating the docu-narrative rather than fantastical impulsive breaks from normative stimuli, but the film nonetheless can and does meet the standards of the genre due to the juxtaposition between the brief pockets of static malaise and the orchestrated songs, signaling a desperate form of expression for Bo’s internal conflict, that he cannot muster the energy to communicate without them.

We are allotted enough presence to these moments of banal and painful connective tissue to comprehend this film as a musical that is arrested from levitating too far from the gravity of anxiety and depression within the self and one’s place in the larger social stratosphere. It’s as if Burnham took life as we know it- specifically the melancholic individual's fatalistic bind with culture- and forced it to be a musical, but I would argue that we do that all the time- even if we’re not creating and delivering content- by the nature of finding creative methods to express what we cannot without the modalities to hide behind. In this way, not only is this the greatest meta-musical refracted back into our reality, but Burnham exposes the hidden central irony of a musical number’s function as a microcosm of his/our own strained existential experience; that idea being that numbers serve as extraordinary shields that don’t only subvert the ordinary but also tragically reflect that such disclosures cannot exist without artificial buffers. This formulation leans on a particularly raw pathos foreign to most musicals, but one that is implicitly ubiquitous when we ponder why a character needs to abandon the familiar, tangible outlets of expression to purge themselves of psychological and philosophical conflict. That we need to utilize manufactured interventions to communicate the purity of our spiritual emotionality is an additional irony, but one so central to the conceit of film as a medium and what most of us watch movies for, that this masterpiece is self-reflexive in a broader level beyond all the other, more discernible shades.

While I agree that the film is not overtly a comedy, I always feel better after watching it or listening to the music This is a film that evokes my own experiences with anxiety and depression better than any I’ve seen, and affects me with disinhibited validation. A song like All Eyes on Me contains a bridge with lyrics so affirming that it communicates a seemingly impossible balance of devastation and empowerment in its avowal of the surrender/acceptance hairline, confirming the dense, enigmatic, complex, and grey material of our "insides." I'm beyond grateful for this film's existence, and suspect that I will be returning to it quite frequently for the rest of my life.

Although I found Burnham's last two specials to be less consistent overall, the end of Make Happy that you allude to (which can be watched here), perfectly grasps the Sisyphean struggle of social anxiety, using Internal Family Systems ("parts") therapeutic language language to convey the existential antecedent to All Eyes on Me. It never fails to make me tear up, is essential viewing for Inside, and serves as a vital and vulnerable confession about his personal struggles in posterity. It's also arguably the greatest single thing he's ever done.

[thirtyframesasecond]

All Eyes On Me probably is the musical tour de force here. It's incredibly raw, particularly the spoken interlude, but also where Bo doesn't regard the other person's concerns with quite the same urgency because he's always been through a personal hell ('you say the ocean's rising / like I give a shit / you say the whole world's ending / honey, it already did') and he's come to terms through acceptance and suggests the same because you can't change things ('you're not gonna slow it / heaven knows you tried / got it, good, now get inside'). That sense of futility runs through Inside, particularly in the early parts where white guilt/privilege can't manifest itself as anything productive - you're concerned about making yourself feel better rather than contributing to actual change/empowering those less well off than you - as Socko tells Bo. There are a whole load of contradictions running through this too (Bo's career owes a huge debt to the Internet, it clearly makes him uneasy but he can't unplug himself totally - though he's tried) and he's aware of those contradictions and conflicts but it doesn't mean he can solve them. I think what makes Inside so impressive is that it doesn't mention the pandemic once but is clearly in its shadow - but 'inside' is more than just being forced to stay home because of COVID-19, the 'inside' is the personal journey of self-discovery and the internal struggles Bo faces.

[therewillbeblus]

Well, since we're dissecting All Eyes On Me, which I agree is the highlight, I'll spew my own thoughts on it. I actually find the song a lot less straightforward than others seem to- Sure, there are some clear signifiers, but the lyrics retain a sense of ambiguity as Bo ventures into the depths of his psyche. The song sticks out, of course, because it's a departure from provocative commentary, usurping all peripheral cognitions into a broad, intimate confession about fragile mental health. All Eyes elicits an anguished yearning to be seen and connected with others, while also surrendering hope towards the state of things outside one's control and affirming our insignificance. That these sober perceptions are expressed in such a beautiful, empowering, and willful manner conveys the irony of faux-self-actualization that, if boldly declared and accepted, becomes its own kind of honest self-actualization, compromised within and apart from the ‘real world’. Bo is in his own personal space, away from it all- so in a sense the entire film can function like an escapist series of numbers- but that isolation we see does not offer any reprieve from the oppressive milieu, the zeitgeists that swallow, and the internal needs to engage with them for psychological sustenance. This particular instant of artistic testimony inspires all the feelings of being trapped and trying to free oneself in exhaustion, desperation, and self-liberation from giving up (or giving in just a little bit, relinquishing control to attain some freedom from himself), all at once.

Some view All Eyes on Me as nihilistic, and the voice- perfectly emblematic of one of Bo’s internal parts (this is another great IFS therapy film)- seems to be posturing in that direction, but like the rest of the film, we can acknowledge this as a part. A powerful part of his identity to respect, and that which cannot (and should not) be fully suppressed, but simply a 'part' of him just the same. The deflection to “get inside” in the bridge and go “where everybody knows everybody” in the chorus can be viewed as a reflection of that part recoiling into the comfortable stagnancy of Bo's psychological hibernation, away from the fearful growth - or, more literally, away from the crowds triggering panic symptoms on live comedy tours. The contrast with demanding the audience, or his other internal parts, to cast himself into the spotlight and simultaneously retreat because “you’re not gonna slow it, heaven knows you’ve tried” is an urgent paradox of conflict, in both passion and submission, to the complex of being a mentally-ill person in a social world- alluding to Burnham’s inability to control his panic attacks specifically, in addition to more comprehensive mental health issues. Posterity has shown us that Can't Handle This' sincere disclosure led to a five year hiatus to seek help, making Inside, and especially All Eyes on Me, all the more reflective of the tragicomic irony of life. In this musical, Burnham confronts our inherent psychological myopia with opposing interventions of necessary indictment and genuine compassion for its blunt unmanageability. You couldn’t ask for a more respectful and insightful regurgitation of these nebulous experiences, valuing the mind's contradictions in all their grey soup of spirit.

[therewillbeblus]

Bo Burnham: Inside was slated for a one-night-only theatrical showing on 7/22 at select theatres nationwide, which has now expanded through the weekend, July 22-25. For those who have yet to see this, I can't recommend it highly enough (I may even need to see it for a fifth time in this format..)

[Black Hat]

I'm working currently with a few people a generation behind me who are big Bo Burnham fans, combine this with the near 100% approval rating this special has received inside the NYC media bubble I reside in, it was inevitable that, on an overbearingly hot Manhattan summer night, I would fire up the old Netlfix to see what was 'inside' this man named Bo.

The answer is not much beyond the rambling navel gazing, made famous around these parts, by the likes of our long since banished friend Nasir.

I really don't know what to say about this, the guy clearly has a brain and he is versatile with his competency, but what is he really commenting on?

It’s like he inhaled reddit and then vomited all of it into 90 minutes of translatable Netflix to make people who live on a diet of MSNBC or CNN feel like they know what's going on with 'internet culture'.

Am I being dismissive?

Perhaps.

But I'm so tired of people cheering on 'confessionals' as masterpieces, sitting down to watch them, to only then feel soiled by the cynicism of the artist or to use the parlance of the time, 'creator'.

Yes, I know it sounds like I disliked this, I hesitate to call it, 'comedy' special — people really find this funny (yes, of course, 'comedy is subjective' here he here he) — and hated Bo Burnham, but not really.

It was fine. It's all fine.

What I resent is having something ordinarily mediocre being shoved down my throat and being told, it's as delicious as a can of whipped cream, when it's homogenized skim milk.

I give Burnham credit for thinking about the internet, social media and all its implications on society, it's something that for some reason hasn't been reckoned with to any large degree, but he doesn't really engage with anything on a deeper level

It's yet another piece of work expressing loneliness, anxiety, helplessness...

made by a person who is far from helpless and from what I was able to research isn't lonely either so, what gives?

There is something going on in our culture that's really disturbing to me and it's not that Bo Burnham's special reveals that. What's revealing is how this many people, especially young people, understand, relate and empathize with 'him'. This tells me, and perhaps this is the moral of the story — that the internet, like being human, is about our wanton need to fulfill our desires. Is the true meaning or purpose of acquiring a 'platform' to provide a mirror your audience/fans can project their own bullshit on?

It's kinda magical in a way, a sorta emotional sleight of hand... maybe youtubers, influencers, tik tokers are the 21st century's answer to the 20th's magician.

[therewillbeblus]

It's incredibly dismissive to discern that Burnham isn't lonely, or doesn't feel helpless against his mental illness, from your aloof vantage point of "research," as well as to the countless people who identify with his expression of the throes of depression and anxiety. I appreciate that you're resentful against this film for not meeting your expectations, but people often gravitate towards art because it helps them identify their emotional depths in a safe space, and I see nothing inauthentic about that happening here. Perhaps you don't relate to Burnham's content specifically evoking the feeling of helplessness during acute depressive and anxious episodes, but as someone who does, please lay off of diagnostic declarations of "bullshit" occurring on a wavelength you admit to not being able or willing to access.

[Black Hat]

I found a good portion of Burnham's special cynical, manipulative, bordering on exploitative of an audience's emotional fragility he is clearly hyper aware of.

To me, it would have been outstanding, revelatory and at the risk of using one of the most annoying words going, 'important', to explore that, but when you take that arrow and point inward, it becomes about the self. Especially when the interior of what's being explored is so outrageously staged. Therein lies the problem, which is what concerns me so greatly, at this point we should be inching towards community, but instead our alienation is emphasized by mass culture and we are required by all but the law to validate the individual's void. What I mean by that is when you make something about yourself and your audience relates to it in terms of 'that's me!', it becomes impossible to critique because, as we just saw, somebody will wag their finger in your face scolding you for being a terrible person.

This absolutism which permeates, from fans of performers, when one dares raises questions or pushes back on the validity of their presentation is also troubling.

I'd also add that the most important, and really, only broad societal statement of his show, contained in the Socko segment, was completely diluted by the way he designed that bit. Very hard for me to see that choice as anything but intentional.

[therewillbeblus]

You're allowed to critique something, but I used "please" to request you not to make blanket pejorative statements about the psychology of Burnham or audiences who are engaging with the work, when you admit that you aren't accessing it on that same emotional level, and thus don't understand where we're coming from. It's fine to cerebrally dissect this as problematic from your position, which you just did and I appreciate that clarification in your argument, but there's a difference between what I'm asking and what you think I'm asking. If hearing someone request that you please don't pathologize people somehow translates to you as a scolding finger-wag regarding your inherent value as a terrible person, as opposed to simply prompting a less offensive behavior shift, well, now you've got me thinking of Nasir too.. If you're not going to be introspective and respond to what I'm taking issue with and assume the worst by misinterpreting my intentions as personal attacks, this is going nowhere like usual. Have a good night.

[MichaelB]

I can’t comment on Inside, because I haven’t seen it, but I thought that Burnham’s Eighth Grade was absolutely outstanding. My daughter was exactly the age of its teenage protagonist when I saw it (and I’m very glad that I didn’t see it with her), and I’ve rarely seen anything so forensically well-observed about girls of that age, their outward confidence (expressed here online, as is increasingly the norm) being merely a smokescreen for crippling social anxieties. In fact, I’m half tempted to watch it with my daughter now that she’s clearly past that stage.

[Black Hat]

TWBB: I'm not particularly comfortable going back and forth with you because it seems to me there's little separation between Burnham, Inside and yourself. We experienced a similar disconnect regarding my reaction to Euphoria some time ago and as I was saying up the page, I mistrust this on a fundamental level of, what is the artist's intent? What you seem to be requesting of me is to hold back my response to a project about the human psyche out of deference to, or fear of, offending said psyche. It goes without saying that I find this ridiculous, but that is ok, no? My wheels don't spin for your satisfaction sir.

Michael: I mentioned Burnham's special to a few friends and two of them have teenage daughters who were very critical, bordering on resentful of it. Don't wont to color your perception of it before you see by going into further detail, but I'd be curious how your daughter responds. I, similarly, quite liked 8th Grade and didn't dislike Inside, but I do find Burnham's presentation and the response to his work dubious.

[MichaelB]

Just to be clear, by "it", I meant rewatching Eighth Grade, but this time with my daughter.

[therewillbeblus]

Black Hat, that’s not what I’m saying, and that’s not what you’re doing. I politely asked you to not be coarse in your knee-jerk assessments of other people’s mental health, but if you think that a request to be considerate of people's feelings as you make your points is a ridiculous proposition, then that's your prerogative. I’ve been engaging with you long enough on this forum to not expect anything from you, but it was worth a shot to advocate against a temperament of callous insolence. You don’t want to accept feedback and I can't change that, so spin your wheels whichever way you want. I will note again that I do appreciate the points you’re laying forth outside of the crass tone in demeaning snap judgments on the psychology of the audience and Burnham, but those are totally separate things that for some reason you seem to view as unavoidably tethered.

[felipe]

I really liked "Inside" but I do wonder how honest it is. At times it seems too eager to be seen as woke, addressing numerous social issues from a politically correct standpoint because he knows he'll be praised for that.

[therewillbeblus]

There are definitely moments in him filming his breakdowns that I question the authenticity of, in how constructed those scenes are rather than if he was really feeling that broken, which I believe he was. However, he ousts the part of him that wants to get ahead of himself and be praised as self-aware, woke, etc. numerous times in the film (especially the meta-video commentary exercise where he continuously peels back the onion layers of his defense mechanisms until he can't take it anymore). I think the film is a great demonstration of the inner conflict western white left-leaning privileged people feel in our current climate, but its commentary is highlighting the issues with wanting to feel superior to others because of self-awareness, transparently validating this desire because otherwise we feel lost in the enigmas of our powerlessness to take action, and also scoffing at its merit in practice. That's kinda the point of it all. I feel like there's something inherent in anyone making commentaries like this in today's zeitgeist that rub people the wrong way, but that seems to be more of a problem with the consumer than the artist- for if someone wrestling with this conflict, and processing how to find humility amidst the publicized self-aggrandizing platforms we all use to find meaning, is deemed dishonest, then nobody should even try. Bo admits that part of him is eager to be seen as woke and wants praise, but quickly shuts that part down and spends a good portion of the film withering away from any attempts at that.

[DarkImbecile]

[therewillbeblus]

Thanks for the head's up- I'm only halfway done, but it's pretty obvious why this material was cut. There are still some welcome and inspiring bits in there (one of the postmodernist anti-lyrical Bezos songs had actual lyrics that are decent), though some is pretty lame and repetitive to the versions of the skits/characters he wound up using in the finished product. The standout new number is Five Years (or the relationship song), which is hysterical, but even that one doesn't fit with the special. This is mainly because the production design is pared back and a defined outlier against the more intricate and unique numbers in Inside, but also because it's rooted in remembered or exaggerated or artistically concocted banter between Bo and Lorene Scafaria. Unlike some of the other numbers centered around social relationships, the end result doesn't reflect isolation and inherent loneliness even in groups, but a foundational long-term relationship he can return to when he's not recording these songs. Obviously this is true- and he's not living in this room we're seeing- but the film Inside is relatable to mass audiences by metaphorically mirroring that sense of alienation brought on by mental health regardless of financial and social and romantic supports. It's a great bit and would make a good extra if this ever gets released on disc, rather than find its way into some extended edition.

[tenia]

It's interesting because it remains Outtakes after all, so I guess it explains part of the looser aspect it has and the overall lower quality of the bits and songs, but it does make for a fascinating companion to the original special, some kind of enhanced behind-the-scenes bit.

[therewillbeblus]

The second half was pretty good, less misses and more hits. The 'peanut butter sandwich' bit was funny, the chicken song a fitting and chilling finale, and I found this new version of All Eyes On Me more suffocating, dark, and raw in its power. The blacklit dirty Burnham was tough to watch in the best way, and the dual harmony worked well