The Static of Reality in ‘I Saw The TV Glow’ (2024)
The Static of Reality in ‘I Saw The TV Glow’ (2024)
Nothing quite changes your perception more than time, itself.
A classmate introduces teenage Owen 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.
— Official Synopsis
Writer-director Jane Schoenbrun (We’re All Going to the World’s Fair) is back for another film centered firmly in a coming-of-age sandbox. This time, the focus is on two teenagers’ obsession with an older, supernatural TV show called The Pink Opaque. Owen (Justice Smith) and Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine) develop a deep, interpersonal relationship over their love for the property slowly. Maddy, in many ways, acts as Owen’s personal guide to the central lore of The Pink Opaque. He goes as far as pretending to stay with another friend so he can sneak away to Maddy’s house and catch a 10pm screening of the live program. Of course, any admission that he enjoys watching The Pink Opaque is met with scrutiny from his father who claims the program is “for girls.” Still, his mother—trapped in a tempered state of reservation—remains a quieting comfort for young Owen. As he grows older, his relationship with Maddy is strained before she mysteriously disappears, and the static of life becomes overwhelming.
I Saw The TV Glow explores the youth’s relationship to technology. It does so, not only by navigating the modern-day challenges of building relationships with other people, but in showing how reality is at risk of fracturing. Often, stories feel more real than even our own life; like we’re tertiary characters to someone ele’s narrative. For Owen, this couldn’t feel more accurate. Of course, connection to other people produces a certain level of satisfaction in life; but beyond the two most important woman in his life (his mother and Maddy), he can’t quite seem to bridge the gap. Human connection is pinnacle to sharing experiences, developing morals, and learning to overcome challenging social situations. For all the benefits of technology, it has become somewhat of a cultural barrier for younger generations in grappling with their most basic conditioning. Shoenbrun emphasizes the filmic medium, in particular, as a way to usher the audience into the devastating surrealism of isolation.
Eric Yue’s cinematography couples well with the grunge-like production design from Brandon Tonner-Connolly. There’s an airiness—perhaps, ethereal—quality to the visual landscape of I Saw The TV Glow. The visual radiance can be overwhelming in certain sequences, but the contrast and chiaroscuro in each frame is eerily stunning; the soundscapes and musical compositions are just as impactful. Similarly, The Pink Opaque’s strong tonal aesthetic makes it wholly individualistic and certainly not entirely kid-friendly; no wonder it was scheduled for late nights. Even more intriguing is the parallel between the horrors of The Pink Opaque and the world our two leads exist in. Mr. Melancholy is the series’ antagonist and is unequivocally frightening. Owen and Maddy are haunted, metaphorically, by his presence in real life because, well, he materializes in their life’s daily. Both characters are severely lacking friendship, and their homes are spaces of hostility. Trapped in an endless abyss of dejection, the only solace they find is in observing a slice of reality through the television. Beyond the rich, subtextual queerness of The Pink Opaque, they both see an honesty in its representation of life.
Thus, the brilliance of I Saw The TV Glow: existentialism through the prism of the content we consume on a regular basis. For Owen and Maddy, the more obscure nature of The Pink Opaque resembles their abstract view on life. The show’s nightmarish skew, shaves a more general audience from the pool of regular viewers; and they find comfort in the absurdity of the subject matter. Horror has historically given a sizeable space to explore “otherness” in media. Often presenting a dream-like construct to push the boundaries of reality itself, the genre’s thematic resonance can be taken to an extreme through shock, mystery, and violence. However, the brilliance in the construction of The Pink Opaque is much more subdued. It’s a type of terror that can most thoroughly be expressed through a feeling we get from some of the more chilling visuals (Mr. Melancholy and the other monsters) rather than an outright frightening occurrence with the use of gore.
As we grow up with Owen and Maddy over the years, it becomes evident that time is more than just a narrative tool—it’s a character, itself. As Owen begins to reconcile with his upbringing, he rewatches The Pink Opaque. To his surprise, it’s entirely different from how he remembers it [a Mandela Effect of sorts]. His perception of the past is profoundly jaded. Owen was uncertain whether he liked girls or boys, but he was sure that he liked TV shows—and he loved The Pink Opaque, more than anything. So why did that change? It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what might have caused this, other than the realization that the life he’s had isn’t exactly fulfilling. He had several opportunities to accept his true reality but kept ignoring the signs. Adversely, Maddy recognizes a dire need for change—a hunger to escape her predestined fate—and seizes on the opportunity to do so. Meanwhile, Owen relives the past over-and-over again; never fully accepting himself or the life he chose.
Schoenbrun’s latest piece ultimately calls on the viewer to “wake up.” I Saw The TV Glow serves as a warning that we need to find ourselves outside of the media we consume while being unapologetic in our own identity. Finding comfort in the stories we watch unfold on screen is okay—and can even act as safe places for exploring emotional vulnerability during difficult times—but we can’t get trapped in the static of being a passive actor. By the end of the film, Owen at least understands the decisions that led him to this point in the story but, ultimately, it’s too late to take action and make a dramatic change. Through its erratic surrealism, and Shoenbrun’s calculated direction, the perceptive horror of I Saw The TV Glow makes for a rather crushing experience. An experience that you will certainly ponder for a long time after finishing the film. Yet, there’s an underlying optimism that supersedes the tonal despair the viewer may feel. You just have to flip through a few more layers of subtext to find it: and avoid Mr. Melancholy at all costs.
While I enjoyed the experience overall, the film does have several imperfections. I Saw The TV Glow’s focus on thematic intent is admirable, but Owen and Maddy’s very literal story is brushed to side as the metaphorical nature of the film prevents the viewer from a clear resolution. Muddled together, the narrative baseline becomes riddled with heady questions of existentialism throughout the third act. The impact is, perhaps, most prevalent on Maddy’s character—essentially vanishing much like her character early on in the film. Lundy-Paine and Smith’s entertainingly absurd performances are ultimately in service of the subtextual elements and bear no weight on the actual story. We’re left with a lingering incompleteness fueled by the scripting and a few key choices in the edit. I quite often enjoy more metaphorical and allegoric interpretations of art, but I was curious to see a final resolution for this film that never came. Still, Schoenbrun’s I Saw The TV Glow manages to capture my imagination and demands conversation. I am eagerly waiting to see what they’ll have in store for us next.