Inside

Inside
Starring Willem Dafoe, Gene Bervoets, Eliza Stuyck
Directed by Vasilis Katsoupis

One of the most difficult films to pull off is one that focuses solely (or almost solely) on one character (see all the "ones" I said there?), as audiences clamor for the action and excitement, and typically that doesn't come across well with just one actor on screen. Yet it's happened in the past due to a blend of terrific actors, a solid script, and a director who knows what to do with it. Ryan Reynolds's "Buried" was a vast departure from his typical comedic roles, but he nailed it as a man trapped, buried alive in a coffin. His wife Blake Lively also tackled the solo outing with "The Shallows" as she faced off against a predatory shark, and again it was compelling and powerful. Tom Hardy's "Locke" was just the actor driving in a car for the duration of the film, and it was a spellbinding effort. Sam Rockwell's "Moon" and Matt Damon's "The Martian" (although the latter had more actors in it) were both outer space sophistication at their finest. So when Willem Dafoe - one of today's most underrated and inspired actors - appeared as a one-man actor in "Inside," it looked like the perfect role for the eccentric actor: but with a lackluster script and a director who didn't know what to do with him, he had very little to go with and unfortunately delivered a dull, uninspired film that won't be remembered.

Nemo (Willem Dafoe) is an art thief who breaks into the penthouse suite of a wealthy man to steal some priceless works of art, but during the escape the security system malfunctions, trapping him inside. To make things worse, the door is made of impenetrable material that doesn't allow sound to travel out, the windows are unbreakable, there's little in the way of food, and the thermostat is on the fritz, causing the penthouse to fluctuate between unbearable heat and chilling cold. As the weeks drag on, Nemo tries everything he can to find a way out, but it seems that one man's home will become another man's tomb.

The Good:
Willem Dafoe is a criminally underrated actor who has the acting range to accomplish anything. He's done cult classics ("The Boondock Saints"), unnerving cerebral disturbing films ("Antichrist"), played Jesus himself ("The Last Temptation of Christ"), was the voice of a fish ("Finding Nemo," which actually drew a lot of comparisons to the film both in the character's name and the fish in the movie being the same kind of fish he voiced in the film), actually played one of the most brilliant and tortured painters in any generation ("At Eternity's Gate") and even played one of the most unforgettable super-villains in any superhero movie ("Spider-Man"). So this seemed like the perfect fit for a man with such a range to be able to hold his own in a film where he's the sole talent, and he struggles through with what was given to him the best he could.

Dafoe is great at adapting to his character, and Nemo is no different. He emaciates himself to the point of being nearly skin and bone, enduring the starvation that his character endured during the weeks being trapped in the penthouse, and he doesn't shy away from enduring the heat or cold that his character also went through. He punishes his body for his art, and that's something that demands appreciation. He even utilizes his dark sense of humor here, hosting an imaginary cooking show or doing stand-up comedy to a theater of no one, but sadly those moments were too few and far between.

The production design on the penthouse is stellar, although I wonder why anyone would want to live in such a place. It's extremely sterile and bleak, with dark colored walls and windows that somehow don't let in a lot of light despite being floor to ceiling, and even a skylight that doesn't illuminate much. Wealthy art hangs on the walls, but the rest of the home seems almost uninhabited, with the refrigerator lacking any sort of sustenance and barely there furniture, but in this context it really adds to the helplessness Nemo experiences.

The Bad:
At an hour and forty two minutes, "Inside" is about twelve minutes too long. The film starts off immediately with Nemo getting trapped, so there's not a lot of places for it to go, and screenwriter Ben Hopkins and writer/director Vasilis Katsoupis don't really take it anywhere. It's an exercise in futility, as the minutes literally drag on at a snail's pace in an excruciating manner that makes you feel as trapped as Nemo is, even though you have the freedom to stop the movie and move about (or, as I did, take a nap during because I kept nodding off).

There seemed to be an idea in the script about art and the importance of it, but it doesn't transfer to the screen. Both at the beginning and the end Nemo has a voice-over where he remembers something a teacher asked him when he was a child: what three things would be save from his burning house? His answer was his sketchbook, his AC/DC album, and his cat. The cat died, he lent the album and never got it back, but he kept the sketchbook: proving that art is for keeps. Yet that's not really explored here, as the paintings (works of art by the great Egon Schiele) don't really serve much purpose, as does nothing else in the film.

The Verdict:
While Willem Dafoe tries his best, not even his eccentric performance could save "Inside" from being a work of uselessness, neither providing substance nor stature in an easily forgettable and dull film that's as inspired as Robert Rauschenberg's White Painting.

The Score: D