Dafoe is great on his own, but "Inside" is up its own ass

Inside (2023)

One actor surviving in a single location — it’s a challenge for the performer and it can be a challenge for the viewer. Ryan Reynolds was buried in a box, James Franco was trapped against a canyon wall, and Robert Redford was adrift on a yacht. In the chamber piece “Inside,” Willem Dafoe gets to be stuck in a penthouse. It’s a compelling one-man show, watching such an intensely fascinating performer as Dafoe problem-solving and trying to overcome adversity, but eventually, the film becomes too much of a one-note, unpleasant endurance test to care anymore. 

Dafoe plays Nemo, an art thief who successfully breaks into a steely, modern New York City penthouse on a job. With directions from his partner on a walkie-talkie, he finds all of the million-dollar paintings, except for a self-portrait of the owner. When the penthouse security system malfunctions and the alarm sounds, Nemo’s partner leaves him on his own. He is stuck. The phone line is disconnected. The water is turned off, but there are some ice cubes in the freezer and some extra moisture to lick up. The gas stove is off. There’s a working fridge, but it’s barely stocked with caviar and moldy bread. Nemo attempts to chip away at the ornate wood of the front door with futile results. Throwing something heavy at the unbreakable windows is also useless. Then the temperature control system malfunctions as well, leaving Nemo to alternate between hot and cold. Will the intermittent watering system for the indoor plants suffice for Nemo’s hydration? Will he eat the pigeon outside? Will he empty the owner’s tropical fish on display into his belly? Or, before building his own art installation piece that reaches the skylight, will Nemo just go insane? This will go on for weeks or months.

Based on director Vasilis Katsoupis’ idea and written by Ben Hopkins, “Inside” is more of an actor’s master class than a film with a character to study or something to say. The film does, however, try to be making a high-minded statement about the longevity of art. Nemo’s bookended voice-over explains a scenario of what he would rescue if his home was on fire—those items being his cat, an AC/DC album, and his sketchbook—and while “cats die” and “music fades,” “art is for keeps.” So, sure, this is about creating art when you’re stealing art as much as it’s about eating dog food and defecating in a bathtub once the nonfunctioning toilet is full.

It’s not an inherent problem that all of the dialogue spoken in “Inside” could fit on a couple pages of a script. This is a solo survival story after all. Once Nemo is stuck, he does begin having conversations with the staff from the multi-feed surveillance screen, even if it’s all one-sided. When a young cleaning lady (Eliza Stuyck) he names “Jasmine” takes the elevator and starts vacuuming right outside the penthouse Nemo has found himself inside, he tries screaming for her help, but all hope is lost. Director Katsoupis does bring a claustrophobic element to this prison-like penthouse that can be effective, and the production design is memorable (the neon text, “all the time that will come after this moment,” on the wall is a striking detail). There’s also a running joke with one particular song emitting from the home speaker when the fridge door is left open for too long. 

“Inside” is a bleak film, indeed, but it becomes tiresome and turgid when it should remain gripping. It entirely relies on Willem Dafoe, who’s tasked with the physical rigors of carrying this concept to feature length and degrading himself for the art of acting. To his credit, Dafoe does make the act of just “being” interesting for a while, and he knows how to descend into madness like no one else, but he can only do so much. Who is Nemo? Does he have anything else to live for besides stealing art? Whether or not Nemo perseveres, does it even matter? Dafoe did the thing, but to what end?

Grade: C

Focus Features is releasing “Inside” (105 min.) in theaters on March 17, 2023.