Student Blog: The Artist as Affected by Quarantine: An Analysis of Bo Burnham's 'Inside'

Bo Burnham's "Inside" premiered on Netflix on May 30th, much to the delight of many fans of his. Burnham has not released standup comedy content for five years, with his last special being "Make Happy", released in 2015. Clocking in at just under 90 minutes, this special is a perfect weekend watch. But be prepared, you may want to watch it more than once.

Burnham expressed his desire to re-enter standup in January of 2020, right before the pandemic became widespread in the USA. When isolation was required in March of 2020, Bo decided to use the guest house of his property to create and record a special, an effort which he believed would take a few months at most. He spent over a year writing, editing, and directing the special.

TURNING 30: COMEDY TURNS TO TRAGEDY

A good chunk of this special is certainly meant to be funny, with songs such as "White Woman's Instagram" and "FaceTime with My Mom". However, things seem to pivot as soon as Bo turns 30. Bo's goal was to have the special finished by the time he turned 30, as he wanted to "avoid" the feeling of turning 30 "while still in this f***ing room".

Now, this section has many perceived meanings, all of which tie back into the main point of the special. Bo started doing comedy when he was 16, and he skyrocketed to popularity before he even turned 18. He spent most of his career being considered "the young comedian," and being championed for his use of music in his act. Now that he is turning 30, not only is that charm gone, but he still has to live with his problems. The minute he turns 30, the special almost starts to go downhill - his birthday marks a turning point in the special (in fact, the clock strikes midnight at the EXACT halfway point).

DESIGN: THE EMBRACE OF IMPERFECTION

Bo has always been very cognizant of design when he is allowed creative control over his specials - often he has used multiple forms of media, like projection and lighting design to tie his specials together. Songs like the "Kanye Rant" simply would not work without the autotune, lighting, and other elements that bring it together. Since Bo was doing everything in this special alone, he had to create and execute all of these things himself.

In the beginning of the special, we are treated with a compilation of Bo setting up different lights, machines, and cameras. The interesting thing about this is: we usually don't get to see this part of the process when we go to see a show in person. If you were to see one of Bo's earlier specials, like "what." or "Make Happy", you wouldn't see the wires, the light stands, the power sources. None of that would be visible, and that would actively detract from the experience in an in-person setting. But in this special, Bo actively captures these elements in his shots. He uses a mirror to show the camera as it records him and itself, he shows the wires and the mess on the floor. Even when shooting the fake brand video, he chooses to include the things we typically don't see - box lights, the frame of the backdrop, and his keyboard in the background. As the special continues, you see the room begin to fill with unused equipment and clutter, as compared to the opening shot, which shows the room before he begins filming - neat and clean, just containing his keyboard and a chair. Seeing these things reminds us of the imperfections of the special's setup, as well as unintentionally representing his mental state throughout the special as it declines.

PERFORMED VULNERABILITY

When viewing this special, I had two reactions: either "wow, this is a really vulnerable moment for Bo, and this is hard to watch", or "wow, he set up the camera to be able to get this shot of him performing a vulnerable moment, this is hard to watch".

My question is this: did Bo simply select takes that he was not proud of, keeping in moments where he got frustrated with his inadequacies, or did he manufacture these moments to show us what his mental state was like during quarantine? To be completely honest, I think both instances work.

In many instances, Bo shows us what we would normally not see - his disdain with his own performance, him stopping takes to berate himself and start over, and his need to be perfect. We would typically not see these in a special of his, as it is a one-take, one-night endeavor. Funnily enough, I think that live theatre can sometimes be easier than filming something like this - you don't need to set small goals for yourself, instead you just finish the whole thing in one go. And in that case, you do all of your writing, recording, and editing of outside media before you even step foot on stage. While I do think Bo finished most of his writing before even touching the camera, I think he felt the need to record certain moments that he did not plan beforehand. Whether these moments of vulnerability were planned or simply plucked from his failed takes, it shows us what he wants us to see: during the process of his creation, he is extremely hard on himself, a perfectionist, and he will do practically anything to get it right. At some moments, you even feel him ask: "Why?"

MENTAL ILLNESS: QUARANTINE IS NOT THE PROBLEM

Now we come to what I think is the point of the entire special. Bo does not seem to be making a point about the collective trauma that we all experience during quarantine or isolation, because many mentally healthy people have not fully understood the special. Instead, he seems to be making a point about the ups and downs of mental health, time and age, and how they all intertwine. Bo expresses that he was once a kid "stuck in a room", and that he would do anything to get out of that room, including comedy. This room seems to be both literal and figurative: he gets out of his actual room by doing comedy, and he also gets out of dealing with depression, anxiety, and other mental illness while doing his comedy.

Once he officially quit comedy in 2015, he was able to work on himself, and once he finally got to a place where he felt he was mentally healthy, the pandemic happened. This special seems to be Bo coming to terms with the rest of his life: he has to live with mental illness for the rest of his life, as does every person with mental illness. There is no "green grass" on the other side for us, instead we have to live with the ups and downs no matter what age we are. It is the realization that you will not be magically healed as soon as you turn 30, you may just get better at hiding it.

THE BACKLASH TO THE BACKLASH: THE INTERNET'S REACTION

Burnham has been practically intertwined with the internet ever since he put out his first comedy video at 16 years old on YouTube. With songs such as "Art is Dead" and his special "what.", he hooked a very specific demographic. Most younger millennials and Gen Z children grew up with his content being shared on every single platform imaginable, and we were simply saturated in his content. Even after quitting comedy, Bo's art continued to capture audiences in different settings - taking his songs and standup out of context to fit the narratives of the people resharing it.

Now, there are people who understand the point of the special, and there are those who don't. This isn't meant to be pulled apart for content, sounds, or clips - this piece simply does not work out of context. Unfortunately, many people are doing just that.

Bo even shares his opinion on the internet's obsession with knowing everything, saying everything, and being everything all at once:

"Is it necessary that every single person on this planet um, expresses every single opinion that they have on every single thing that occurs all at the same time?"

CONCLUSION

In writing this essay, I had to rewatch "Inside" a few times. Every time I rewatched it, I found out something new about myself, my relationship to my own art, and the para-social relationship perceived between an artist's "relatability" and my own self. Whether everything in this special is intentional, or if most of it is real vulnerability, we have to remember that he chose to release this. He put this piece out into the world for us to see something - in him and in ourselves, and we need to accept it as it is. We ourselves do not know Bo, and we shouldn't pretend to. Sometimes, we don't even know ourselves, and I sincerely believe that art, just like this, can help you to meet yourself in some odd, twisted way.

All photos belong to Netflix and Bo Burnham's "Inside".