I Saw the TV Glow, 2024.
Written and Directed by Jane Schoenbrun.
Starring Justice Smith, Brigette Lundy-Paine, Ian Foreman, Helena Howard, Lindsey Jordan, Danielle Deadwyler, Fred Durst, Conner O’Malley, Emma Portner, Madaline Riley, Amber Benson, Albert Birney, Michael C. Maronna, Danny Tamberelli, Timothy Allan, Tyler Dean Flores, Elizabeth Scopel, Marlyn Bandiero, Haley Dahl, Raina Block, Bailey Wollowitz, Lily Rothman, Phoebe Bridgers, Kris Esfandiari, Wilson Flores, Thommy Northcut, and Julie Lodhy.
SYNOPSIS:
Teenager Owen is just trying to make it through life in the suburbs when his classmate introduces him to a mysterious late-night TV show — a vision of a supernatural world beneath their own. In the pale glow of the television, Owen’s view of reality begins to crack.
Nostalgia is baked into every corner of our lives. It’s inconceivable to leave the house or turn on the television without being reminded of something you once loved or still obsess over, being force-fed that pandering. Even this film uses that concept for some background actors to create an uneasy feeling. With writer/director Jane Schoenbrun’s I Saw The TV Glow, nostalgia is presented as an all-consuming curse despite entertainment’s power to inform people who they are and want to be, putting identity into question for some.
These things are often the cure for the loneliness of being an outsider or an escape from a broken home (or any reason to flee into fantasy, really), but what happens when the fear of becoming and embracing who one is meant to be is so intense that they cling a bit too hard to that nostalgia for comfort or shut down across the years, living in an existential nightmare? Disassociated narrators to unfulfilling lives is one answer.
That might sound like an odd premise for a horror film (and Jane Schoenbrun covered similar themes of loneliness but in the more modern Internet age with their chilling debut feature We’re All Going to the World’s Fair), but I Saw the TV Glow takes its premise of two outcasts in 1996 befriending one another and bonding over a fictional late-night cheesy episodic somewhat kid friendly monster-fighting TV show, making personal discoveries through that art that they don’t feel comfortable enough to reveal to society for several bigoted reasons (sadly some of which still exist and give people pause to be themselves) and fills it with a high wire balance of hypnotically eerie imagery, friendship, mystery, and unbearable dread. The lengths this film goes to drive home that point is simultaneously shocking and soul-draining to watch.
Many shots (courtesy of stunning photography by Eric Yue) begin with a slow zoom as if the viewer is being sucked into a screen, characters are frequently surrounded by glowing light sources putting greater emphasis on reflection and finding some light in literal and mental darkness, and there is a riveting monologue for the ages regarding being buried alive. For good measure, there is also a killer haunting sound design and an original soundtrack of indie pop and punk dialed completely into the emotions on display.
Owen (played by Justice Smith as a late teenager/adult and Ian Foreman as a middle schooler) is an introverted, sheltered child who does make a friend in lesbian classmate Maddy (a downright phenomenal Brigette Lundy-Paine), talking about the aforementioned TV show titled The Pink Opaque, centered on two teen girls named Isabel and Tara (Helena Howard and Lindsay Jordan), who met at a sleepaway camp and discovered that they share a psychic connection that could be used for battling monsters. Some striking creature designs resemble similar shows of the 90s but through the lens of how terrifying a child might find it, playing up the idea that something corny is inherently more frightening when one is much younger. Meanwhile, the big baddie of the show is the moon-faced Mr. Melancholy (Emma Portner, creepily portraying most of these villains.)
There’s no denying Jane Schoenbrun is having some fun here, sending up some of their favorites, skillfully laying out pieces of the show’s lore to give just enough to invest in the idea of it and what the protagonists are seeing in it, all without distracting from the central story. More to the point, Owen finds a reflection in one of the heroes, instantly aware that something is off regarding gender identity. Despite having a caring mother (Danielle Deadwyler) unable to connect or understand this feeling, Owen must contend with a rude father who would rather question why his child was watching a “girls’ show” than do or say something potentially productive. It’s a brilliantly hurtful line reading from Fred Durst, mostly kept in the shadows or shot from afar, lost in TV himself as if he is an alien entity that will never understand Owen.
Similarly, Maddy deals with an abusive father, but like their debut feature, Jane Schoenbrun is disinterested in depicting that dynamic and more concerned with what outlets teenagers are plugging that pain into. She also sees her true self in the TV show (which clearly has queer undertones), becoming much more fixated on that aspect and determined to escape her suburban trappings. As previously mentioned, this leads to some unforgettable monologues due to the physicality of her movements and body language just as much as the line delivery.
Forbidden from mom to not watch TV at night and given a strict bedtime, Owen has a sleepover with Maddy, where Owen gets to watch The Pink Opaque for the first time. From there, Maddy sends Owen VHS tapes of recorded episodes, scribbling her thoughts on each episode (much like people labeled such tapes back in the day) stylized through on-screen pink text. That sequence itself also feels wholly authentic, sure to remind anyone of the first time someone showed them a piece of art that forever altered them in some way (even though I wasn’t the sheltered one, coincidently, my mind went back to the time my best friend showed me a masterful work from trans trailblazers the Wachowski siblings, The Matrix.)
It is difficult to describe the plot of I Saw the TV Glow, and truthfully, writers shouldn’t try too hard. Reality and fiction start to blur, as if the lives and memories of the carriages have been “shaken up like a snow globe”, and the rest is up to the viewer to piece together as the shattering, anxiety-ridden tale unfolds. This is an absorbing film that defies all sense of traditional storytelling and should be experienced coldly. Yet, it remains accessible, partially because the film’s point isn’t the obvious metaphor but what that metaphor and show do to these characters.
If I were forced to make a comparison to provide an accurate assessment of the vibe here, think of Twin Peaks smashed together with the Alan Wake video games. However, Jane Schoenbrun’s direction and ability to lay on that moody atmosphere and intrigue is their vision alone, amplified by mighty, unshakable confidence. And while it may seem more personal and specific considering the metaphorical transgender and queer material, the suffering of observing your life slip away while not living it authentically or discovering oneself through fictional characters is universal and turned into a nightmarish cautionary tale about nostalgia here. Given the melancholy tone, I Saw the TV Glow is a beautifully terrifying, one-of-a-kind experience that probably won’t be replicated by any other filmmaker.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
