If there’s one actor currently working today that can easily sell every role he’s involved in due to his talent and screen magnetism, it has to be Willem Dafoe – except for “Mr. Bean’s Holiday” (there’s no excuse for that film). He has starred in many projects by upcoming and celebrated filmmakers. You lose count of how many films Dafoe has been in. Seeing his name on a cast list intrigues audiences to see the movie and cinephiles go mad. Dafoe can be described as a chameleon of some sort. He may approach some of his performances the same way, but Dafoe adapts to the setting, atmosphere, and tone of the respective film and fits comfortably. He can be a fish in “Finding Nemo” (and a man-fish in “Aquaman”) and a mad lighthouse keeper in Robert Eggers’ “The Lighthouse.”
A Showcase for Willem Dafoe
Once again, Willem Dafoe showcases his powerful acting skills, particularly those where he portrays a person slowly going insane, to lift the weak aspects of a film’s infrastructure. This time, it is his performance in Vasilis Katsoupis’ intentionally frustrating yet surprisingly fascinating directorial debut, “Inside.” In the film, Dafoe plays Nemo, a high-end art thief who, thanks to his various skills and history, has done several multi-million dollar heists worldwide. His past isn’t talked about nor seen through flashbacks. The only glimpse the audience gets is the introductory line. Nemo discusses “what he would save from his burning childhood house.” And his answers refer to his love for art, which he puts above his family and friends. He states, “Cats die, music fades, but art… is for keeps.”
That narrated line basically explains what “Inside” is about to do during its runtime — an exploration of the duality between creator and creation. Nemo’s next job is to rob a luxurious multi-million dollar penthouse of an unnamed art collector (played by Gene Bervoets). Katsoupis doesn’t dwell on heist/caper narrative cliches. He dedicates no time to showing the audience the plan of said theft because it isn’t of interest to him. Instead, he wants to focus on the trappings of the fancy yet empty apartment. Cinematographer Steve Annis creates an eerie sensation in which the viewer knows that things will not go as Nemo planned. Immediately, Nemo can’t find the most valuable piece in the billionaire’s collection, which is the main reason for the job. His partners, only heard through voices, grow impatient as their plan crumbles by the second.
A Depiction of a Man Going Mad
Adrenaline fills the screen for a quick second as Nemo wanders around the apartment to find the prized possession. But a malfunction in the security system causes the sirens to go off. Nemo becomes trapped inside the apartment, and his team cuts communication with him. Instead of becoming desperate by the inescapability of his situation, Nemo begins to search for opportunities for his freedom. He navigates the apartment for every chance that might save him from that hell. Deep down, he knows that whatever he finds won’t be of valuable use. The impenetrable steel walls and soundproof doors make this more of a trap rather than lodging. Unavoidably, Nemo turns mad rapidly. His screams echo through the various hallways, like mimicking background noise that mocks his every decision. Sweat and tears cover the floor as this penthouse becomes purgatory for the leading character.
There might be some hope for him via the hatch at the ceiling. Getting there will be a hassle. So, he builds himself a fortress out of furniture and the art pieces he was meant to steal for his escape. “Inside” begins as a heist movie, later turning the table into an escape room with no getaway. Katsoupis wants his character to struggle. He wants to turn Nemo’s disturbances into a mental and physical fight for survival and salvation, with only his thoughts to serve his company. His environment is a killing machine that strips away every aspect of your humanity, from the inside and out. You begin to wonder if someone is pulling the strings. As if, somehow, the art collector knew someone would want to steal his precious belongings and turns his apartment into an exhibition of itself for showcasing melancholic desolation. But all of that lingers in your head, and Katsoupis doesn’t answer those questions.
An Effervescently Claustrophobic Chamber Piece
“Inside” becomes an endurance for both the lead character and the audience watching. It is purposefully annoying. The film progresses through misery, upholding even more misery within the claustrophobic confines of an inescapable room. The audience becomes frustrated as the film continues through its ninety-minute runtime, like Nemo. We all want the same thing, an escape from this hell constantly swallowing us in despair. While many will think of this as too annoying to engage with the film, I found it intriguing. The main is that this role is in Willem Dafoe’s lane and the usual magnetic physicality he brings to his performances. He’s too comfortable with the part of a madman that Dafoe sells the film’s discomfiting nature. His screams, moans, and groans are like rapturous hymns of despair that hypnotize.
It made me believe I was also there with him, fighting for survival or seeking redemption. Thematically, it doesn’t explore its ideas in an array of notes. But Vasilis Katsoupis has a great vision as a director. He knows how to intertwine the beauty and ugliness of both human beings and art by ripping apart the cliché-filled heist movie trappings and curating them into a piece of far more compelling propositions. Sure, he may have bloated the script to give Dafoe more to play with, giving the mania more time to develop. Ultimately, “Inside” keeps things weirdly intriguing while never boring the audience. Many won’t give this film a chance and will watch other movies released during the weekend. Nonetheless, if you want to see an effervescently claustrophobic chamber piece about the duality between art and destruction, check this one out.
“Inside” is currently only available to watch in theaters. Check your local listings for showtimes.
