'I Saw the TV Glow' Review: For Everyone That Grew Up With Shining Screens
an eerie, consuming sophomore feature that stays top of mind long after the screen goes dark.
2024 has been quite a year for horror fans, with movies chronicling vampire children and possessed nuns, but none are quite as enthralling as Jane Schoenbrun’s sophomore feature, I Saw the TV Glow. Put quite simply, the film follows two teenagers and their obsession with a late night television show. As they immerse themselves in this fictional world, their ideas and perspectives begin to warp, and the line between real and fake increasingly begins to blur. Beyond this, Schoenbrun dives into an exploration of visual media as a form of coping with the inexplicable loneliness of growing up, along with the dangers that come with hiding from who you really are.
Schoenbrun has been filmmaking throughout the 2010s, but their first feature film, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, put them on the independent horror map. Exploring similar themes of visual media and obsession, this film left a mark on its viewers, and those that grew up in the digital age may uncomfortably see themselves through lonely Casey and her online experiences. This same magic is found in their newest film, but with more risks and daring ideas, a deeper impression is left on the viewer. Indeed, I Saw the TV Glow exemplifies Jane coming into themselves as a filmmaker, with an evidently more confident hand guiding the scene as it unfolds. For 100 minutes, viewers are taken on a hypnotic bender of emotion and eeriness as they confront surreal and immersive imagery.
Set in the mid 90s, the film begins with 7th grader Owen, a shy and uncomfortable-looking pre-teen, expertly played by Justice Smith, as he first learns about The Pink Opaque, a show that will unknowingly change his life. Wandering around the school after hours, he comes across Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine), a sullen 9th grader that saves all of her passion for The Pink Opaque, poring over an episode guide, and while she seems to brush off Owen’s greeting, once he expresses interest in this YA fictional world, she can’t help but jump at the chance to burst with lore.
With a worrying home life, Owen has to create a convincing lie in order to watch the show at Maddy’s house, joining her watch party and avoiding his strict bedtime. As time passes, the show becomes more central to both his and Maddy’s life, and they become completely consumed by the supernatural escapades of fictional characters Isabel and Tara. It begins to become unclear how fictional these characters really are, and Isabel and Tara start to blur with Owen and Maddy. It becomes a question of who they are, who they want to be, and what happens if they refuse to address their own identities. Fear and discomfort are spoon-fed to the viewer as they are forced to watch this painfully personal struggle, and how it may feel to be too scared to take life into one’s own hands.
Brigette Lundy-Paine gives an utterly convincing performance, heralded by a chilling monologue that brings the film to new heights. Justice Smith’s performance is fantastic - at times, it feels uncomfortable to watch, his awkward and stiff performance perfectly depicts Owen, and viewers that were once self-conscious teenagers may struggle to avoid comparisons. For anyone that has questioned their identity and their place in the world, this film is likely to speak to them; for those that are still questioning, or maybe have been avoiding some important questions, this may be an emotional powerhouse that cannot be ignored.
I Saw the TV Glow is difficult to describe in words; it really is something that needs to be experienced to be understood. This film examines gender, sexuality, and the painful nature of being human, using both hypnotizing visuals and disturbing characterizations. For the best first-time watch, viewers should go into this with an open mind and no expectations, letting the film take them where it wants to, and where it can.
The soundtrack and accompanying score deserves mention, with heady in-movie performances by Sloppy Jane (and Phoebe Bridgers) and King Woman. Alex G (also the composer for We’re All Going to the World’s Fair) sets a strong tone, successfully adding to the consuming nature of the film.
For fans of experimental psychological horror waiting for a film that will stay with them long after the screen goes dark, and for people that had their own glowing TV sets, this is a must watch. Jane Schoenbrun is one of the most exciting names in the American film scene, and in a perfect world, they’ll have the chance to create many more of these personal dives into horror and what it’s like to come of age in a time of digital instability.