If you didn't know who Bo Burnham was before the release of this special, some of this context may have escaped you. Burnham has been making comedy songs since the mid-2000's when he was 16. They started out immature but showcasing his elite wordplay, and soon enough he was being paid to make specials for Comedy Central.

At 19 he released 'Words Words Words' which, while definitely a step forward from his Youtube origins, was still fairly scattered and inconsequential. But, once again he showcased an amazing knack to make words fit together in a totally unique way. But this time he did so with a little twist---he added a splash of social commentary. Whether it was a song questioning his role as a comedian in 'What's Funny?', roasting modern day Hip-Hop in the insanely hilarious 'Oh Bo', or just a takedown of the entertainment industry as a whole in 'Art is Dead', Bo made his thoughts on various topics relating to performing clear. And he did so in ways people could relate to but couldn't put together themselves.

Another unique quality about Burnham is that he rarely if ever touched on political issues. He really only ever discussed performing, social media, and its impact on society. Because, as an entertainer who grew up on the streets of social media, that's really what he knew. And that continued with his second special 'what.', which was a lot of the same as his first special albeit slightly more acclaimed. Instead of Hip-Hop songs he took down Justin Bieber & the genre of love songs in 'Repeat Stuff'. In another self-deprecating tune, he commented on the sociopathic nature of comedians and how perspective affects our view of the world in 'Sad'. Once again, Burnham was showcasing many talents, but was doing so in a largely self-contained way. But then he did something interesting:



He made his most ambitious statement yet. This was his first step out of his comfort zone. And while he was not making any grand proclamations (aside from acknowledging the existence of a God?), he was commenting on a global issue---how religion & faith affects our world. And once he started, he did not stop. 'Make Happy', his last comedy special, released way back in 2016, was a masterpiece. Nothing was safe, especially not country music. Near the end, he completed a trilogy in his effort to dissuade the public from latching onto, obsessing, and living through celebrities, in the ominous 'Kill Yourself'. This flows perfectly into a break in his act when he turns the lights on and delivers one of the most poignant monologues of his career:



Perfect. Societies dependence on living their lives for an audience had already been getting out of hand, but little did we know it was just the beginning. And here was Bo, once again, pleading with his audience to take a step back. And then he closed his show with, in my opinion, the best song he's ever made.



Alright maybe it's not his best, there are so many great ones it's tough to pick just one. But if there is one song to summarize who Bo Burnham is as a performer it is this one. Because it works on so many levels. Every Kanye West fan can watch this and laugh at the tune perfect parody. He nails every beat. The production. The lighting. The vocals. The range of talents this one person showcases in a, seemingly meaningless, song about pringle cans and burritos is unprecedented. But with Burnham it's never that simple, and once again he pulls the rug out from under us, when in the hook, after the first two verses, he turns down the auto-tune and speaks to the audience, a single light shining on only him:

There are rumors that the verse about the Chipotle burrito was meant to be an analogy to his rise to stardom. You're standing in line and all of a sudden there's all of these options, and you want, and can have them all. You keep indulging and indulging until...the burrito explodes. And nobody warned him what impact fame would have on his mental health. Why didn't anyone tell him?

He ends the song, looks out at the audience, a sad, almost eulogizing, expression on his face, delivers one last line---"Thank you, goodnight, I hope you're happy", and then walks off the stage. At just 25 years old, this was meant to be his retirement from comedy.

Which brings us to 2021 when, barely a month before it would ultimately be released, Burnham tweeted for the first time in almost two years, to tell the world about the surprise special he had made for us. The production took place over the course of the pandemic, inside a single room, featuring only himself.



Some were skeptical, but most were just excited. His five years away from comedy had delivered some of his best work, including directing Chris Rock's newest comedy special, 'Tamborine', writing & directing the feature film 'Eighth Grade', which was phenomenal, and, most recently, co-starring with Carey Mulligan in the painfully underrated 'Promising Young Woman'. Many assumed that now that Burnham had seemed to find his niche in Hollywood, returning to his roots in Comedy was far-fetched. They were wrong.

'Inside' opens with the song 'Content', which serves as an introduction to the special. It also opens our eyes a bit to what we are going to be in store for, discussing his messy physical appearance (he booked a haircut but it got re-scheduled), and what a beautiful day it is to stay in inside his home and write. He quickly follows that up with 'Comedy', another brilliant song taking aim at the self-important entertainers, while also questioning if a pandemic is the correct time to be making jokes, before sarcastically declaring it is the perfect time for a "white guy like me" to heal the world with comedy.

Quite the start. Lyrically, there's a lot to unpack, but his use of lighting is what stands out here. It's impossible to do justice how impressive the production of this special is, and it begins in this song. After a spoken introduction, in which he tells us that the making of this special will largely serve as a distraction from his real issues, he stumbles into his next song, 'FaceTime With My Mom (Tonight)'. There's not a lot to say about this one, it's a simple comedy song that we can all relate to having just lived through the pandemic where many of our relationships existed in the realm of video chat. I would like to point out that the entirety of this song is viewed in a narrower view, as if we're viewing the FaceTime call. This matters because it is used again later.

Bo's next song, 'How the World Works', starts off innocuously enough, with Bo describing the ins and outs of the world, specifically some of the animals that exist and their impact on the earth. Then, out of nowhere, Burnham reveals a sock on his left hand, who begins talking, and sings his own verse about how the world works.

Burnham then berates the sock, reminding him who is on whose hand in this relationship. The sock begs for forgiveness, with Bo making the sock promise he won't get out of line again. The two then repeat the chorus once more, "that is how the world works", before Burnham nonchalantly rips the sock off his hand anyway.

Wow. Look, everyone does not have to agree with this take on the world, and I do not want this review to be swayed but political/social preconceived views, but agree or disagree, I think we can all agree that to not only say things like this that very few have been bold enough to say, but have the sock on his hand to sing it and use it as symbolism for the point he's trying to make in his lyrics is incredible performing, showcasing many skills.

Bo continues with a Brand Awareness skit, which is just genius. The gist is simple, all of these companies that continuously pump out these ads supporting social justice causes are only doing so to, in turn, raise brand awareness, and get you to buy more of their product. It's cyclical.

-"Consumers want to know, are you willing to use your brand awareness to affect positive social change? Which will create more brand awareness."
-"The question isn't, 'what are you selling?'...or 'what service are you providing?' The question, is 'what do you stand for?' Who are you...Bagel Bites?"
-"All these big companies they're so scared, and I come in and I put their fears to rest. You know, I tell them, "Just be honest, tell your customers that JP Morgan is against racism...in theory."
-"The question is no longer, "Do you want to buy Wheat Thins", for example. The question is now, "Will you support Wheat Thins in the fight against Lyme Disease?"

I cannot nod enough to a skit like this. I saw some white rice commercial the other day that was as painful as I've ever seen. The virtue signaling is so transparent and pathetic. And it's everywhere. It's a never-ending battle royale for the scraps of our wallets. The wheel just keeps spinning. Burnham follows that with arguably his most impressive performance, 'White Woman's Instagram'.



It doesn't matter if you're laughing out loud, this production is as clever as it gets. And anyone who frequents Instagram knows it is grounded in realism. The wardrobe, the lighting, the setwork, the shallowness of each and every fictional post, he nails it to a tee. Combine that with catchy lyrics the whole way through and typically great vocals, this is near perfection.

But that's only the beginning. Remember that earlier when discussing 'FaceTime With My Mom (Tonight)', I mentioned how the song was shot like a FaceTime video...well this song mimics that. The entire song is shot in a 1x1 frame, as if it is actually a series of Instagram photos. The entire song except one verse:

Damn you Bo. This could have been a catchy song teasing white girls for their basic and cliche social media tendencies. But, once again, as he is prone to do, he flips the script on us. That verse, shot in an expanded frame, reminds us that even behind the shallow performance of social media, lies a real person. Social media doesn't tell the story, or even a fraction of it. It's performance art. The performer is staging their life as they want you to perceive it. But it isn't real. Not really.

Burnham then ponders, on a stool in front of a circular light, recreating what a classic stand-up stage looks like, if it's possible for any single person to shut the **** up. Or are we so far gone, the nails of social media so deep into our skin, that we have all pissed away our last shred of humility, convinced the ability to type 180 characters and click submit unchecked has made us all uniquely knowledgeable on every last subject.

He immediately transitions, fittingly, into 'Unpaid Intern' which is his own commentary on labor exploitation. Only 30 seconds, and showcasing more vocal/musical range, the song would be funny (in a because it's true way) on its own, but when he follows with a reaction video to his own song, we are, once again, reminded it's never that simple with Bo.

He starts reacting to the song, making lighthearted jokes at his behest about his appearance, and the music in the song. But then the video doesn't end. His reaction to the video follows. So he begins reacting to his reaction.

"What I'm doing is explaining what the song means, and what it's about. I'm being a little pretentious. It's an instinct I have where I need everything that I write to have some deeper meaning or something. But it's a stupid song, and it doesn't really mean anything."

Okay. Self-awareness is good. I guess that's what the song is about? Nope. The loop continues. So he begins reacting to himself reacting to himself reacting.

"So here I'm reacting to my own reacting, and I'm criticizing my initial reaction for being pretentious, which is honestly it's a defense mechanism. I'm so worried that criticism will be levied against me that I levy it against myself before anyone else can. And I think that, 'Oh, if I'm self-aware about being a douchebag, it'll somehow make me less of a douchebag.' But it doesn't, self-awareness does not absolve anybody of anything."

Are you starting to understand? Someone this self-aware and self-critical, under the microscope of society. I can't believe the panic attacks did not start sooner. Burnham continues with a transition song, "Bezos 1", which takes aim at who I can only imagine he views as villain #1; Amazon founder Jeff Bezos. This leads into Burnham, lying on the floor with his whole body being protected by a blanket, delivering another monologue about the world of today:

Okay Bo, we get it, social media is bad. Capitalism is bad. You have driven that point home. Before cutting to his next song, he mumbles, "I'm...horny." This transitions to his next song, 'Sexting'. Similar to a few other songs prior, this song is simply meant to exist on one level---one many of us can relate to. The pandemic made all of us a little bit lonelier on a number of levels, including the romantic one. The song closes with Burnham, one hand on his phone, one hand on his pants, sitting alone in the dark, unhappily. Perhaps to drive home the importance of real connection?

I believe that to be the case, because what follows is a 30 second video of Bo, parodying many YouTube influencers, sitting in front of a green screen with a knife in his hand, thanking his viewers for watching his content, with happy music playing in the background. The music fades away, and so does the smile on Burnham's face.

'Stuck In A Room' follows, which I believe to be the turning point in the special, as we approach the halfway point. Up until this point, Bo, while certainly not the epitome of happiness, definitely leaned more upbeat and towards comedy in his songs. But we are now months into the pandemic, and he is starting to lose control. The song opens with him, hair and beard much shaggier than it was at the start of the show, messing up and getting angry at himself, before starting over. And then it closes with this verse:

Burnham has constantly talked about what it was like for him growing up. He even has a song about his parents thinking he's gay. He was a theater kid who liked making silly songs for YouTube. He knows what being stuck in a room is like. The next shot is even of Bo watching old YouTube videos of the High School version of himself on a projector, with a miserable look on his face. Why does this matter? More on that later.

The show quickly cuts to the next song, 'Problematic', which serves purely as a callback to a line he delivered during his reaction video, 'self-awareness does not absolve anybody of anything.' The video is a parody of thirst-trap music video where Bo, as he works out, sweating viciously, tells stories of the sins of his past. To me he is representing a person trying to get out in front of the mob of today. Remember that in today's world, there are no statute of limitations. If you ****ed up you're ****ed, and that's that. At the end, Bo repeats a verse twice:

This is another song that works on a number of levels, and is tough to pin down. Because the sins he apologizes for, such as dressing up as Aladdin for Halloween as a kid in a mostly white, suburban neighborhood, are, relatively victimless. At one point he manipulates lighting so, as he stands in front of a wall, it looks as though he is Jesus hanging from a cross. So, does he actually want sinners to admit to their crimes? Or is he mocking the ones who do so and think that getting out in front of it will absolve them of their crimes?

Bo follows by, while sitting on a stool in the dark, in front of a clock that reads '11:59', explaining that his original goal for this special was to finish by his 30th birthday. But tomorrow is his birthday. And he has not finished. This is relatable for so many of us who aspire to create. We set little goals in our head, and it is so disappointing to not meet the deadlines you create yourself. At the same time, when you're the only one responsible for holding yourself accountable, it is easier to procrastinate and just let the time go by. He then enjoys the final minute of his twenties in silence, before singing '30'.

This song is another exquisite example of lighting and production. The visuals in this song are magical. His shadow on the wall behind him as he sings his dark lyrics. The song ends at the lowest point, with Bo exclaiming:

Bo then immediately speaks into the camera and clarifies to his fans that he has no suicidal thoughts or desire to kill himself. This is important because a common fear amongst some Bo Burnham fans is that his anxiety and depression will eventually lead to worse things. But Burnham explains that's not the case, and then begs anyone with those types of thoughts to avoid that outcome, because even if they don't have love in their life at the moment they still could in the future.

Most of this monologue is shot on a projector with Bo sitting on a chair in a white shirt, and the video playing out in the center of his shirt, as if Burnham is wearing a shirt with a picture of himself. Why does this matter? Because, as I mentioned earlier when discussing his song 'Kill Yourself', Bo once believed that normal people turning to celebrities for moral values are misguided. But I believe Bo now, whether he likes it or not, understands the platform he has. And he understands that if he pushes the faux suicidal narrative of this character he has created for this performance (one who is obviously very closely based on himself and his experiences/emotions) it may influence fans of his, especially ones who do struggle with anxiety or depression, to think it's okay to accept defeat because 'well, Bo Burnham has'. And I believe Burnham delivering this message through the visual of being on a t-shirt, where only a celebrity with a platform would be, symbolizes that.

Intermission time! Bo washes the camera screen like a window wiper, as a warped version of 'Content' plays. He then follows that up with 'Don't Wanna Know' in which he asks the viewer if they're enjoying the show, before deciding he doesn't care either way, before jumping into a parody of a twitch video game streamer. Bo is playing a new video game called, 'Inside', which is a single player roleplay game in which you control an avatar (who coincidentally looks like Bo Burnham in his room). He reveals that it's the 253rd day in the room. The only thing the avatar can do is walk around the room and cry. In the background is a slow version of, 'Stuck In A Room'. Bo is making fun of how pointless the idea of video game streaming is, while also making light of his emotional situation at this point in the special. Even in a silly parody of twitch streaming, he is capable of making layered content. Amazing.

This leads to, what I believe to be the weak point of the special. Bo slowly dozes off to sleep, looking more discontent than ever, before waking up and singing '****'. Once again, the lighting, music production, and set work is top notch. But, for whatever reason, this song didn't do it for me. Perhaps I just didn't get what he was parodying in the music, or I am expecting too much for wanting each song to be extremely layered. But yea, in this song the title tells the story, he tells us about how terrible he is feeling and what being alone in a room for 3/4 of a year has done to him. He then gives a monologue repeating that message, telling us his mental health is at an "ATL", "all time low...not Atlanta." Which leads us to his next song.



Thaaaaaaaaat's more like it Bo. Did I say 'White Woman's Instagram' was the best song of the special? My mistake. This is it, and it's not even close. Good Lord. Any analysis I do will not come close to the song itself. There is no better encapsulation of what the internet is, and what it could be, than this song.

In it, Burnham sits in front of a spinning sky of stars (perhaps equating the boom of the internet to the big bang?) projected on the wall behind him. This song has two verses, and the chorus is sung twice. During the 1st verse and chorus, Burnham, wearing eerily circular glasses, singing in a dark, monotone voice, trying to tempt the listener to use the internet.

This is so damn perfect. There was a time when we would stand in line for a movie and just enjoy the world. Maybe spike up a conversation with the couple in front of us. Not anymore. Boredom is a crime. Any individual down time in which we could be inspired or recharging our mental batteries is now used staring at the phone in our hands. Burnham then switches tones, shifting the perspective from the internet to a parent talking to his or her child.

This is so true. The internet is so damn useful. That's its appeal. Everything in the world is more efficient. And if we were a less flawed species we would maximize its efficiency while doing the best job we can to not let it impact the rest of our lives. Yet here we are, spending our free time taking quizzes about which Power Ranger we'd be. When was the last time any one of us took the time to sit in the grass, look up at the sky, and figure out what we want to do with our lives? Is it too late? Can we go back to that? And then it happens.

Burnham shifts back to the Internet character, laughing maniacally, like an evil clown hysterically. The Internet has no interest in compromise. Nor our well beings. It's a machine that was built for one purpose. And it's going to do that. He sings the chorus again, this time in a slow, seductive voice, before finishing with the same chorus this time as fast paced as possible. Is there anyone left who could say no? (Besides the Amish).

One of my favorite touches of the song is that the pace of the first verse increases rapidly the entire time. It starts at a five and finishes at a ten. It is overwhelming. There is option after option after option of all of the things you can do. Some are happy, some are sad. Once you get started, you cannot stop. Remind you of anything?

Bo then delivers another monologue in the dark, a headband with a light lighting his face, that lets the viewer in on his state at this point in the special.

Anyone who has ever worked on a project of any kind can relate to this. Not trying always seems better than trying and failing. Because if you try, finish whatever you're working on, all you're left with is yourself and your life. An analogy would be the person that continues their education after college, or even after med school or law school, just to have a distraction because he or she doesn't know what they want.

Burnham then stands shirtless, delivering horrifically cliche standup jokes to an audience, before pulling out a guitar and singing the acoustic song, 'That Funny Feeling' in front of a light manipulated to look like a fire. This song, is perhaps the most widely misunderstood song of the special. So let's go through it.

These are all things that we can easily consume through the crack-pipe in our hands that is our phone. the 2nd line is a callback to his brand awareness skit, with Gap capitalizing on a movement for their own gain. The final line is brilliant, because it represents what many of us see every day. Something is trending, we try to follow it, but the first thing we see isn't what happened, rather, a reaction to a reaction of what happened. We almost cannot even get an objective view of any world events anymore. Everything is skewed. Everything is viewed through the lenses of somebody else's lenses.

More of the same; consumerism, woke outrage, social media influencers. I think the fourth line, 'the whole world at your fingertips, the ocean at your door', may be the most misunderstood of all. Most assume it is a comment on climate change. And while that may be one interpretation (he did also say 20,000 years of this, 7 more to go), to me, it is moreso a continuation of the commentary on the effect social media and the internet have had on us. Even if we were in a paradise as beautiful as a place where the Ocean is literally right outside, we still feel as though it is a toss-up between that and exploring the depths of the world sitting in our hand.

I also love the juxtaposition of that final line. He laments how capitalism has brought those two worlds together. The mall & a gun range are basically the same now. Shootings can happen at either, so can an exchange of goods.

And finally we have some self-analysis. It's been almost a year. These are the types of things when you've gone 'full agoraphobic'. Is the pandemic ever going to end? Google derealization. Is any of this real? How sane could we possibly stay spending a year inside by ourselves? There it is again, that funny feeling. He finishes by repeating that we were overdue (for something like this), but it'll be over soon. Whether he means the pandemic or our existence, I am not sure.

Bo then attempts to deliver another monologue, but cannot get through it. He tries a few times before breaking down, tossing some of his sound equipment on the way out. He then admits that he is not well, which leads into the climax of the special.



Bo speaks to a cheering live audience, telling them he could not have gotten through the last year without them. He then asks one favor, for them to put their hands up for him. The production is unbelievable. Bo sings his harmony, and we see the real version of him, as well as a blown up version of him projected on the wall behind him. Something you'd see at a giant concert. In the middle he delivers his final monologue:

Devastating. And, as if to break the heartbreaking tension in the room, a laugh track hits after he delivers the final line. He spent four years trying to improve his mental health to the point where he could get on stage again. And he got there. Finally he was ready. But the world said no. He returns to singing, and beautifully delivers the verses of the special:

This is unbelievable. The first two verses are things anyone who has dealt with anxiety, mental health issues, or depression, has heard. Stop overthinking it! Everything will be ok! Come on in, the water's fine.

The last verse is how it feels to work so hard to get to a place you never thought you could get, only to have it ripped away from you. And he somehow wrote it in a way that has perfect symmetry with the pandemic (and perhaps even climate change?). Look we're not slowing the pandemic, what's the point? Just get inside. Who cares about your individual well-being. Who cares about anything. As long as you're inside like a good, obedient soldier. We'll tell you when you can come out.

But it also applies to his anxiety. How is he ever going to feel like he can get back to that point he was at in January of 2020 again? This is not a rational thing. He worked at it for four years. And it didn't matter at all. In fact, it resulted with him alone in a room. It's so easy to just give up and say what's the point? As he sang earlier, "well well, look who's inside again, went out to look for a reason to hide again, well well, buddy you found it..."

Now extrapolate that pattern of events for billions of people. No, none of us have this specific issue, but there are so many of us who have dealt with some form of anxiety, loneliness, or isolation. We deal with mental health issues every day. We work to be happy. And then the pandemic came along and stuck its middle finger in our face, forcing those things upon us, and said deal with it. And worst of all? What were we left to do in our isolation? That's right. Consume. Consume products, consume the internet, consume social media. It's cyclical.

Bo finishes the song screaming at the crowd to get up. He then picks the camera up and spins around as we've seen countless times at concerts, as he sings, nay, begs, for them to "get your hands up, get on out of your seats, all eyes on me", before revealing the room to be completely empty. There was no audience. He has lost his grip on reality. The pandemic broke him.

Bo returns to his every day life inside his room. He eats cereal, he brushes his teeth, he edits his special. He finally showers. The special cuts to a short-haired version of Burnham singing a first take of a "possible ending song", which ultimately becomes 'Goodbye'.

The song, filled with shots of Bo building the sets for all the songs we just watched, is also filled with lyrical callback to his other songs from this special. Although one line, an original one, stands out:

As he is alluding to, this **** is hard. And anyway, should he be joking at a time like this? The song closes with a twist on some of the first lyrics, followed by a final callback to 'Stuck in a Room'.

As the final verse is sung, in a much deeper, autotuned, voice, a single light shines on Bo sitting at his piano, naked. It then cuts to Burnham, who notices the door to his room is finally open. The small amount of light, creeping in the doorway, shines on his face. He rises from his chair and, seemingly for the first time, exits the room. It is off-puttingly bright, in a fake way. I love this because it is symbolizing that the "real" lights to him now are the florescent ones in his room.

But, once again, it's not that simple. The light outside is not sunlight, no. It's a spotlight, shined on him. An audience applauds. And Bo, still suffering from his agoraphobia (or maybe full-on derealization, after all what is real?), desperately tries to return to the room. But the door is locked. He tugs as hard as he can at the door, the audience's applause turning to laughter only increasing his desire to return to the room. The camera zooms out, and we see now Bo watching himself struggle to get back in the room on a projector. He is back, safe inside. As he hears the audience laugh, a smile appears on his face.

The End.

First of all, if you've made it this far, I feel the need to express some combination of my apologies and gratitude. I can get a little wordy, but I promise I'll keep this portion short.

As I mentioned earlier, context is everything. When viewed in a vacuum, this special could be confusing, or just not what people expected. Perhaps that is Bo Burnham's (or Netflix's?) fault in how they advertise this as a 'Comedy Special'. By no means is this me saying it's not funny. There are many laughs for me throughout the special, especially during the first half.

But this isn't a comedy special. And this should not be viewed in a vacuum. This needs to be viewed through a very specific set of lenses. One of a broken man who tried desperately to heal his mental health and get to a place where he could perform again, only to be cutoff at the moment of arrival by a pandemic.

The beautiful part about this special, to me, is that there is something in here for just about everyone. There's 5+ genres of music. There's a multitude of different mediums he parodies and comments on. If you're impressed by top notch production, you won't find a better use of lighting or sets anywhere. You may not laugh your ass off. You may not agree with every one of his stances. But there is something in there for you. Bo Burnham takes an alarmingly close and unique individual perspective at a year in the life of the pandemic, and the affect it had on all of us from a social and mental point of view. He does so in a self-deprecating yet brutally honest way. And he does so in a way anyone who struggled through the year of 2020 can relate to. It is the best thing I have watched in a long time. I thought his last special, 'Make Happy', was a 10/10, but this was better.

Inside---10/10