Shocking Review: ‘I Saw the TV Glow’ Trapped in a Depressing Gaze That Never Changes!

The Mesmerizing Glow of the TV Screen

“I Saw the TV Glow” is a gripping narrative that delves into the emptiness of growing up entranced by the small screen. In 1996, a socially awkward youngster named Owen (portrayed as a seventh grader by Ian Foreman and as a barely developed adolescent and adult by Justice Smith) becomes captivated by a late-night teen suspense series titled “The Pink Opaque”. When the series comes to an abrupt end, he fills the void by continuously revisiting old episodes, fearing that engaging in anything else would force him to confront the existential void of his life choices.

Owen embodies the silent cry of anyone who has ever questioned whether they should spend less time observing and more time actually living. I found the horror aspects of the film unsettling, but having spent a part of my own life witnessing Owen’s, I was left with a lingering feeling: it reminded me of the helpless protestation of a cow watching as another cow is abducted by a UFO, knowing well that we’re all just destined for the butcher’s block.

The Indoor Kids and Their Stories

Screenwriter and director Jane Schoenbrun is a member of an emerging group of young filmmakers, which includes Kyle Edward Ball (“Skinamarink”) and Vera Drew (“The People’s Joker”), whom I’ve coined as the Indoor Kids. They utilize their influential pop-culture symbols as a sort of terrarium, developing their personal narratives within the confines of another’s world. Schoenbrun, who first made her mark with 2021’s equally insular web horror “We’re All Going to the World’s Fair,” has a knack for creating images that evoke a distinct Pavlovian reaction: D.A.R.E. posters, Fruitopia vending machines, voting booths offering a choice between Ross Perot or Ralph Nader, and replica scenes from “The Pink Opaque” that perfectly emulate the distinct, vibrant graininess of 90s TV series. Memories of childhood solitude invade like a vivid dream. The only misstep is the overly contemporary and sweet folk soundtrack by Alex G.

The Pink Opaque: A Journey into the Unknown

“The Pink Opaque” features summer camp companions Isabel and Tara (Helena Howard and Lindsey Jordan), who unearth their psychic connection. Imagine “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” with a dash of Georges Méliès. Each week, Isabel and Tara confront a laughably minor adversary — jesters, moon-faced thugs, a peculiar entity known as a Drainlord — as they gear up to conquer their ultimate enemy, the aptly named Mr. Melancholy (Emma Portner).

When Owen and his fellow fanatic Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine), an older schoolmate who fiercely guards their shared fandom with an impatient, rapid-fire intensity, watch the show, their faces are bathed in a comforting pink glow. They marvel at a monstrous ice cream creature that dribbles soft-serve from its gooey fangs. The mythical, melting horror might not be what everyone else perceives.

However, everything we observe is meticulously designed to stimulate the hidden depths of our minds. Schoenbrun correctly captures the nostalgic shiver of being immersed in enigmas. Some mysteries wane with time (What’s everyone else doing after my 10 p.m. bedtime?) while others persist (Why did my PE class insist on parachute games?).

The Spell of a Show

The most pressing question here is: What compels someone to succumb to the allure of a series? What hidden magic does “The Pink Opaque’s” low-budget special effects hold that keeps Owen entranced? During a scene that appears to us as a rather cheesy clown battle, he glances at Maddy to discover her trembling with tears. They aren’t close enough to discuss it. A casual warning provides a hint as to why Maddy might yearn to identify with a warrior: If Owen doesn’t exit her living room by daybreak, Maddy’s stepfather will “break my nose again.” As for Owen’s own father (a surprise cameo by Fred Durst), he’s a remote, formidable figure, engrossed in his own TV shows, starkly demonstrating that the issue isn’t merely generational.

It would be a stretch to label Owen and Maddy as friends, and neither has any interest in taking their relationship further. When questioned about his romantic preferences, Owen stammers, “I think that I like TV shows?” Schoenbrun, a trans artist, suggests the boy might have a deeper reason to envision himself as “The Pink Opaque’s” gentle and shy Isabel.

The film itself isn’t overly subtle — Owen and Maddy are students at Void High School, i.e., VHS — but this idea is subtly hinted at through parallel cuts of Owen and Isabel wandering through forests and a fleeting scene of Maddy encouraging him to try on a dress. “The Pink Opaque” is a children’s series, a girls’ series, Owen is reminded. If he continues to watch it as he morphs into what appears to be a caricature of an old suburban man, what does that imply about him?

The Ennui of the TV Glow

On the surface, however, “I Saw the TV Glow” is simply a tale about a gloomy character. Owen’s lethargy — his frog-like, monotonous speech; his constant, suppressed unease — is exhausting. The film creates a new sentiment: fervent indifference. Schoenbrun’s argument might be that this is precisely the reaction they were aiming for. They’ve achieved it, but at the cost of audience engagement, resulting in a series of heavy scenes that might make viewers want to escape their own skin.

The most exasperating moment is when Owen and Maddy, who only ever converse about the TV show, who only ever relate to life events as if they were part of a TV series, who equate the passage of years to the skipping of a DVD chapter, reconnect after an extended separation and painfully draw out this line: “Do you remember that show we used to watch together? … It was called … ‘The Pink Opaque.’”

In that instant, I could have driven my own head into the nearest television. (A distressing depiction also shown in the film.) Regardless, the film concludes strongly with the notion that one must — must! — abandon their arrested adolescence or risk a meltdown. But the last daunting, unresolvable question it poses is: What happens when you discard your childish obsessions and are left with nothing?