I'm willing to capitulate almost any other take but if Inside did resonate with you on a meaningful level, you're not my friend and I don't trust you. This rich fucking creep making bottom, rot gut level jokes about Instagram that fucking Simpsons in 2017 wouldn't have done while complaining he has it oh so bad while he has enough cash to have everything delivered to him and got to live with his girlfriend. Not a fucking peep about a loved one that died of this disease or killed themselves or having to live with brainfog and not being able to go up a flight of stairs without sweating, no, it's about how sexting is awkward. Most Frederick Wiseman documentaries don't make me as angry as that special. And the songs aren't even jams. This cretin who has had multiple netflix deals can sing about how troubled he is because he has to sit on his ass and game all day while someone working at Kroger has to worry about making rent, but at least make them like, good songs. God, it's like someone took one of the nerd rap losers from the late 2000's and scooped out their soul with a melon baller. You know why there were no pets in that video (other than him disingenuously trying to appear like the fucking victim when he's well on the other side of the fence)? Whatever animal they tried to bring on set kept attacking him. Every scene with a mirror is cgi enhanced because he doesn't actually provide a reflection in real life. Absolute parasite, he's such a little fucking ringworm. And everyone bought it! This fucking flea, in the middle of the worst time for his target audience (westerners) to be alive since the 40's got away with it, everyone loved when he was like "white girls do be texting tho and it makes me depressed :(". But hey, he said capitalism is bad! That means on your side! I guess! I hope every razor blade he uses to get that Aqualung meets Youtuber Influencer shave is dull and cuts him deep around his lips, and it just stings all day. One of the only pieces of media that manages to get me visibly upset.

I'm gonna copy and paste a Letterbox'd review I love on the subject because the author puts it better than I can:

probably the most damning thing i can say about this is that it's genuinely accomplished and impressive visually. the problem is that this is at odds with the ostensible conceit that we're watching burnham's emotional and creative collapse during the pandemic. there's a lot here that comes off as phony bullshit, but it's the visuals that rankle the most for this reason. a shot of burnham lying on the floor under a blanket amongst the tangles of computer cords and lighting apparatuses is supposed to project desperation and defeat, but he can't help but frame it all ever so perfectly, showing off (not for the only time) how much fancy and expensive equipment he has at his disposal. burnham's compulsion to aestheticize, even in interesting ways, only serves to reinforce the film's accidental message: that bo burnham is doing pretty well, all things considered.

inside is a film that captures a very specific experience of 2020, that being the perspective of people who were well-off enough to stay 100% completely cut off from the world for the pandemic's duration. some of us had to go to work every day, bo. as in, outside of our houses work. for some people that involved setting up the packages of self-help books to put on delivery drones so that you could write a line about them in a song about how oh so sad you are to be disconnected from the people around you. bo burnham lives with his girlfriend, by the way. the film is dedicated to her but she never appears or is mentioned. i understand that the conceit of the room he's trapped in is partly metaphorical, but it's hard to take this seriously knowing that at the end of every day he walked the door and into the arms of the woman he's been in a relationship with for eight years. again, bo, you know some of us didn't have that luxury right? you know that for some of us the only thing we could rely on for human connection was the internet? the thing you depict (not, i'll admit, entirely unfairly) as a species-killing villain?

i'm sorry but i fucking hated almost every minute of this. burnham hides behind layers and layers of irony and self-awareness and doomer bullshit to disguise the fact that not only is he out of touch, but out of ideas as well. so many insufferable moments of burnham making jokes that are corny and played out and bad but oh no it's okay because he acknowledges it, he knows that he's full of shit, which means it's okay for him to fart out a 90 minute stream of half-formed parody songs which universally feature lyrics repeated over and over and over so that maybe you won't realize he couldn't really get past the initial premise in the writing stage. so many moments where burnham hopes you forget that the last 5 years of his life weren't spent accruing millions of dollars and dozens of awards for his feature film debut, not to mention acclaim for his acting work in other films. utterly worthless, vile, narcissistic trash. grow the fuck up.

Also to clarify if I did mean that we really should take children and subject them to years of verbal torture based off a movie I saw once while trying to get laid, yes. I do mean that. Rest of it is whatever, if you like snythpop and purple and yadda yadda whatever who cares