‘It Lives Inside’ Is More Metaphor Than Horror Movie
What the fuck is in that jar?
That’s the first question that It Lives Inside throws at you, and the one that has Samida (Never Have I Ever‘s Megan Suri) wondering if it has something to do with the odd behavior of her classmate, Tamira (Mohana Krishnan). Once upon a time, these two first-generation Indian-Americans were the closest of friends. Then, as they got older, Samida started going by “Sam,” began distancing herself from her cultural identity, and chose to hang with a newer, “cooler” (read: Caucasian) crowd. Never mind that these pals sometimes treat her like an exotic pet — one asks her to say stuff in “Hindu” for their social media feed — and they view Tamira as the resident campus creepy-misfit. Sam wants to fit in so bad, and so desperately doesn’t want to be seen as “different,” that she’s willing to put up with any number of minor indignities.
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But back to the jar. Lately, Tamira has been carrying around this glass receptacle, tap-tap-tapping her fingers on it and clutching it tight to her chest. She also hasn’t been looking so good, with her ragged appearance and dark circles under her eyes. Sam doesn’t want to get too involved in what appears to be her former bestie’s breakdown-in-progress, yet she’s still a little concerned. And that’s without her noticing the blood dropping from Tamira’s backpack, or knowing that this clearly disturbed teen keeps feeding chunks of meat to… whatever it is that’s growling beneath the lid. Not to mention any possible connection this may have to the Choudhurys, another Indian-American family in their neighborhood whose son went a little crazy in the head and took his own life recently. Or did he?
Still, when Tamira asks for Sam’s help with this thing that’s causing her to lose her grip on reality (“Promise you believe me”), the response doesn’t bring out her peer’s more charitable instincts. Cue the jar being at the center of a tug of war, then cracking into a million tiny shards of glass. Now Tamira is really freaking out. She thinks she sees some hideous thing standing right behind Sam, despite the fact that there’s no one else in the hallway. A few hours later, Tamira has mysteriously gone missing. And then Sam begins having these really crazy dreams… and thinks she hears growling noises… and sees eyes peering out at her from the darkness….
We eventually do find out what’s behind all of this — let’s just say that possessive evil spirits and folkore and feeding off of negative feelings (and also fresh, bloody red meat) all play a part. Soon enough, it also becomes apparent that anyone who helps someone targeted by this malevolent force is also at risk, which doesn’t bode well for that cute boy (Gage Marsh) or that helpful teacher (Get Out‘s Betty Gabriel) or Sam’s well-meaning but slightly overbearing mom (Neeru Bajwa). And by the end of Sam’s quest to find out what happened to Tamira and her attempt to live long enough to vanquish the root of the ever-increasing carnage, the movie’s title will have revealed a whole other meaning.
There’s a second, and slightly more pressing question at the heart of It Lives Inside, however, and that is: Is this a horror movie that’s supporting a metaphor, or the other way around? Writer-director Bishal Dutta’s feature debut may understand the genre’s vocabulary and know how to make good use of shadows, shower curtains, and a few old-school Val Lewton tricks. But in the post-social horror, post-A24 world in which we now live, a certain balance is required when you’re mining the fertile ground of creepshows doubling as either commentary or chow-for-thought. It takes a deft hand, rather than a heavy one. In some cases, it may also take time and a few more movies under one’s belt.
And while the idea of using a supernatural scary movie as a starting point for exploring the second-gen immigrant experience — or, say, how diasporas can be both nurturing and confining, why attempts at assimilation may come with an unsolicited side of self-loathing, and the idea that the old world can provide foundational things the new world can’t — is rife with possibilities, the end result here doesn’t necessarily make good on the promise of that premise. There’s a sense that the symbolic nature of this endeavor and its attempt to unnerve, unsettle, and occasionally unleash a shriek out of you aren’t quite synced up. It Lives Inside knows you can use the cover of monsters and things that go bump in your psyche to examine the real-life horrors. But when the message starts to eclipse the medium, it’s time to get out.
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