I Saw the TV Glow

Imagine being a young person struggling with their own identity, not quite sure who you are and not in an environment that wants to help you figure that out. You meet someone who is a lot like you-- troubled and out of place -- but much more confident in where they are going. You form a bond over a shared interest, like a television show, one that has characters who are just like you, but they kick ass and heroically conquer their demons. You connect with the show so much that it starts to feel a lot more real than your own life; it's an escape, a way out of the suffocating nature of your reality.

Your friend, who is blossoming at a rate you can only envy, offers you a way out. They say that this world isn't meant for you; it's time to escape, to begin your life for real, and you need to come with them to survive. But you aren't ready. You're too afraid to completely abandon the familiar comfort of your sleepy suburb and your emotionally distant family -- things that don't know you or love you but are at least safe in their predictability. You stay hidden and time marches on.

Jane Schoenbrun's spectacular second feature film is likely to be incredibly familiar to those who have had to deal with this kind of repression, especially those who identify as trans or queer. It's a story that manages to feel both liberating and tragic at the same time, playing out like a horror movie where the characters are trying desperately to escape their old lives, like the suburbs are a haunted house that won't let them leave. Aided by haunting visuals and incredibly effective melancholic, 90s-era musical cues, Schoenbrun has created a coming-of-age story for the current era, exploring the anxieties and dread of self-actualization in parts of the world where people aren't always kind to those who are different.

Back in 1996, withdrawn 7th grader Owen (Justice Smith) strikes up a friendship with troubled 9th grader Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine), who is obsessed with a television show called "The Pink Opaque," a sort of Buffy the Vampire Slayer riff with two teenage girls fighting monsters in a kind of supernatural realm. The show is rich with a dense mythology, and Owen becomes hooked, sneaking out late at night to watch the show in Maddy's basement. Maddy and Owen develop a friendship around the show and their own shared discomfort in their smotheringly mundane suburb. Maddy knows that she likes girls, but Owen isn't sure what he likes. “I think I like TV shows,” he says. “When I think about that stuff, I feel like someone took a shovel and dug out my insides. I know there’s nothing there, but I’m still too nervous to open myself up to check.”

Maddy eventually leaves and Owen sticks around town, becoming more and more stagnant and resigned. Years later, Maddy suddenly appears and tells Owen the world of "The Pink Opaque" is real, and he needs to bury himself alive to be reborn in the world of the show, like she has done years before. This kicks off a final 45 minutes that are chock full of bone-chilling dread, including a breath-stopping sequence featuring the show's main antagonist, Mr. Melancholy. The movie's vibrant visuals are a testament to Schoenbrun's skills as a memorable image-maker, especially given the movie's meager $10 million budget.

Justice Smith, who generally plays affable goofballs in movies like "Pokémon: Detective Pikachu" (2019) and "Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves" (2023), is a revelation here, collecting angst and frustration on his face throughout several time periods until eventually exploding in the movie's tragic final scene. Owen is one of the more heartbreaking characters in recent movie memory, and Smith is note-perfect.

There are so many themes to dissect, as Schoenbrun's intelligent script is layered with meaning. Schoenbrun (like me) grew up in the 90s, and clearly has a fondness for the style and culture of the time, but also warns of the dangers of getting trapped in too much nostalgia. A particularly clever scene has Owen looking back on "The Pink Opaque" with the eyes of an adult, surprised to find that it doesn't quite look the way he remembered it. It's as if holding on to parts of your childhood can prevent you from moving forward, even if it feels magical to hide in those comforting memories -- memories that may not even reflect reality.

"I Saw the TV Glow" is an exciting and fully-realized vision that announces Schoenbrun as a major new voice in cinema. Even as a boring ol' straight white male, I felt this movie in my soul, and I suspect others will connect with it even more deeply.