Something profound happened to me while watching Jane Schoenbrun’s singularly disturbing I Saw the TV Glow. It is difficult to put into words. An “out-of-body” experience, perhaps. The film burrowed deep into my subconscious, extracted my private thoughts and anxieties, and laid them bare with surgical precision. It transported me to the mindset of an adolescent, leaving me paralyzed and overwhelmed with emotion. It is deeply cerebral, blurring the lines between fact and fiction with evocative, neon-hued imagery and eerie sound design. And yet for all its jarringly immersive visual flair, the film feels decidedly intimate and tethered to the experiences of the director and that of the ‘millennial’ generation.
What kind of narrative does “I Saw the TV Glow” tell?
Owen (Ian Foreman; Justice Smith) is a severely sheltered, 7th-grade loner: awkward, shy, and debilitatingly timid. Try as she might, his feeble and sickly mother, Brenda (Danielle Deadwyler), can’t access him emotionally. His verbally abusive father, Frank (Fred Durst, yes THE Fred Durst), only deepens his isolation by criticizing his every interest. In short, Owen has been dealt a bad hand in life. He is not like the other kids at school. That is until he met Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine). She’s a queer outcast living in a similarly oppressive household who is obsessed with a young adult TV series called The Pink Opaque, a series distinctly reminiscent of 90s-era hit shows like Are You Afraid Of the Dark? and Buffy The Vampire Slayer.
Maddy exposes Owen to the show. He is instantly transfixed and consumed by it in haunting and beautiful ways. For the first time in his life, he feels seen. He and Maddy connect intrinsically, both incapable of articulating their emotions, yet crippled by the weight of them. Intuitively, they sense an artificiality to their existence and their surroundings. They long for a purpose, a deeper connection. It’s a connection they both feel while watching their favorite TV show. The Pink Opaque quickly and organically becomes a vehicle for disassociation as well as an exploration of their burgeoning identities. “Sometimes,” Maddy explains “The Pink Opaque feels more real than real life.” And therein lies the thesis for the whole film. For a moment in time, art can inform, reveal, and satiate our unspoken needs and desires. However, it is up to every individual to find the courage to step into their truth once it becomes known.
Why will the film connect deeply with millennials?
I Saw the TV Glow is a film that understands the power and influence of media. Set in the late 90s, the film speaks directly to an entire generation of lost, lonely, and ostracized former youths who never felt like they belonged. It’s a generation whose obsession with media and popular culture was a crutch between themselves and the existential terrors of the real world. In many ways, this same media cultivated countless identities, providing a sense of community and understanding that was lacking in our real lives. Schoenbrun understands this sentiment all too well. They’ve expressed that the film is an allegory for their own trans/queer journey. They didn’t just feel like an outsider in their respective world, but also in their own body.
The film transforms someone’s personal experience into a broader and more universal conversation about adolescent angst and loneliness. The more personal and specific it is, the more poignant, relatable, and human it becomes. It is a story about grief, loss, and self-discovery. It demonstrates how art can function as a conduit for escapism and revelation while simultaneously articulating the uncomfortable truths we are not ready to confront. But, most importantly, this is a story about the liberation that comes when we dare to be our authentic selves, no matter the consequences.
What makes “I Saw the TV Glow” an especially unique filmgoing experience?
I Saw the TV Glow certainly won’t appeal to everyone. It is a film that thrives in abstraction, exaggerated realities, and crippling vulnerability. However, it is also deeply empathetic and humane. It consumes you with its ideas, its honesty, and dark, surrealist beauty. It is dripping with style and verve, every frame drenched in saturated shades of fuchsia, violet, and cobalt. The original soundtrack and score exude a soothing sense of melancholy and foreboding. Smith and Lundy-Paine are pitch-perfect, devastating, and thoroughly engrossing to watch. Schoenburn is a true visionary who creates a sense of wonder, imagination, and horror (sometimes all at once). Thematically, it is a work of genius. The otherworldly sights it presents are enough to make David Lynch jealous (and, hopefully, proud).
For more insights like this, read Laron Chapman’s regular column.
