HFC at SXSW ‘24: It's What's Inside

Throw a stone at the reviews for Greg Jardin’s new film It’s What’s Inside and you’ll hit one comparing it to Halina Reijin’s 2022 breakout, Bodies Bodies Bodies. Aside from the former making a compelling case for stealing the latter’s title, the comparisons are obvious: the plot follows a group of mostly overprivileged twenty-somethings who like gossiping more than they like each other for one fateful night as they gather in a mansion to play a game that will end with at least one person dead. One of the friends has returned post-shunning from an event that resulted in a hospital stint—in the “case” of It’s What’s Inside, the scene stealing David W. Thompson as the not-so-secretly resentful tech nerd, Forbes, who carries in tow a game that can best be described as a high tech version of Guess Who?

Structurally, both films are also set up like jokes, featuring semi-tedious exposition followed by an expertly delivered punchline. However, the similarities, though abundant in those regards, end there. Namely, the appeal and intent of the films are different, with Bodies Bodies Bodies hamming up its line delivery in favor of social satire and It’s What’s Inside hamming up its camera work in favor of a higher-concept plot. Additionally, describing the film as “horror” feels more like a spoiler than an apt genre description: It’s What’s Inside is a romantic thriller with a sheen of party-friendliness, without a single real scare in sight. If a bachelor party is a socially acceptable time to cheat on your partner, then the group in this film takes full advantage, with couples cheating, getting caught cheating, and facing steep consequences. And while there is another genre it fits more accurately into, revealing that would be the biggest spoiler of them all.

At the center of the story are Shelby (Britanny O’Grady), an insecure woman in an emotionally neglectful relationship with the porn-addicted Cyrus (James Morisini). Shelby starts the film intent on reigniting the spark of their sex life, putting on a wig and mugging in the mirror while listening to the advice of and attempting to emulate influencer friend Nikki (Alycia Debnam-Carey) to little success. By the time Shelby and Cyrus get to the party and receive their introduction to the game, they’re aping the dynamics of Dani and Christian in Midsommar, him pressuring her under the guise of emotionally supportive abnegation into continuing to play despite her wariness.
Enter the rest of the friend group. The two other men present are groom-to-be Reuben (Devon Terrell) and Dennis (Gavin Leatherwood), the face-tatted trust fund recipient; the two other women of the group consist of the crunchy Maya (Nin Bloomgarden) and Brooke (Reina Hardesty) whose primary traits seem to be being high and lending the group gender parity. If the two friends are interchangeable in personality, it’s in service of making room for the dynamics at play between the core four of Shelby, Nikki, Cyrus, and Forbes.

As soon as the game is afoot, an opening that can charitably be described as slow (and more accurately described as tedious with a side of overused Reservoir Dogs-style circular tracking shots) turns into chaos so delightful it makes the build up worth it. If the direction takes a few swings that don’t work, though, it’s in service of others that do, starting with a twenty second split screen shot of the friends’ introduction to the game that is likely to grace a Reddit thread or three as viewers play their own mini game of Guess Who? with it. From that point on, there are few hiccups as the plot kicks into high gear.

The main trick Jardin employs in the film involves a clever use of lighting to keep the characters’ roles clear as they begin to get to know each other a little better and the pacing picks up. This tactic is especially helpful as keeping track of who’s doing what and where as plot developments get tossed out like candy at a parade would, in less flashy hands, become difficult.

In all its speed, the film makes it clear that it doesn’t have time to explore the thematic implications of its premise. The gender dynamics of the group as they shift roles aren’t played with to any real extent, and certainly not enough to launch this to cult classic status among transgender audiences. Neither are questions of what constitutes sexual violence (which could, frankly, use at least a slightly bigger nod than the one it gets toward the beginning). Even if the script is aware enough to acknowledge racism, it still takes more time to focus on pretty privilege. The film—as a whole—is clear that it’s not interested in being about raising awareness of major social issues, so if that’s what you go to films for, steer clear.

Does that mean it won’t be fun to talk about with friends the week after it comes out? Hell no! Like its characters, It’s What’s Inside is a little vapid and bland underneath the surface, but for the duration of its runtime, it maintains an enviable momentum that kept me on the edge of my seat. In other words: it’s not about what’s inside of It’s What’s Inside. While a final twist toward the end initially made me roll my eyes, feeling it was a frivolous addition to ensure it had an extra punch to its punchline, the longer I thought about it, the more the way its implications reverberated back through the film mitigated some of its other flaws and left me curious to watch a second time to pick up on cues that I’d missed.

If the folks over at Netflix know what they’re doing, they’ll wait until the inevitable sequel to have it go straight to streaming. If you get the chance, see this with popcorn and a group of friends.