I SAW THE TV GLOW. On the Other Side of the TV
Your friend who disappeared under mysterious circumstances returns after years, and the first thing she says is that the life you are living is not real. What do you do? Of course, you don’t believe her—she looks crazy, trying to convince you that the boring and lonely existence in the suburbs is just a sad cover for who you really are, and that you somehow managed to forget it. Your family, memories, even your body don’t belong to you. Clearly, she’s delusional. But what if, by some strange and inexplicable chance, she’s actually right? Especially since more and more elements around you suggest that she might be.
Jane Schoenbrun’s film (produced by Emma Stone) begins in the ’90s and tells the story of two outcasts, Owen and Maddy, who are bonded by their fascination with the teen TV show The Pink Opaque. When the show is suddenly taken off the air, one of them disappears under unexplained circumstances, and everything around them becomes increasingly less real and stable. Was The Pink Opaque just a show? Or was Maddy right when she said it was more real than the world around her? This, in short, describes the plot of the latest film from A24, drenched in ’90s nostalgia, fluorescents, and neon lights.
Bright oneirism, the confusion between what is true and what is a retro monster show, can be a good starting point for a movie with a wild and fun plot. However, in I Saw the TV Glow, there’s an underlying feeling of sadness and helplessness throughout. The grayness of the world is broken by the colors shining from the screen. As the characters’ favorite show is withdrawn, their surroundings begin to crumble, as if someone has disturbed its foundations. The colors slowly fade from the film, leaving an increasingly depressing palette. Furthermore, after Maddy leaves, Owen becomes more and more lonely and lost. It feels like someone is trying to tell him something very important through soundproof walls.
Jane Schoenbrun has managed to present television escapism in a wonderfully original way. Sure, everyone has their own nostalgia, but I’d venture to say that almost everyone had their favorite show in childhood, whose airing was a celebration, and before bed, we imagined ourselves as the hero of that wonderful world on the CRT TV screen. The creepy motifs crafted by the director will especially appeal to those who liked watching things like Salad Fingers, Mushroom Land, or nostalgically remember Goosebumps or Buffy the Vampire Slayer after school on YouTube. The world of the show The Pink Opaque aggressively starts to intrude into the real world, but distinguishing what is show fiction and what is reality is not the only cinematic challenge the director serves us.
Despite all the twisted motifs (I Saw the TV Glow is definitely from the weirdest shelf in the A24 film library), the American director’s film is like an intimate confession, and it’s clear that she’s telling, in her own way, about her experiences of being a trans person. The first thing that comes to mind after watching her film is precisely the theme of searching for one’s queer identity. To be frank, I think I Saw the TV Glow is one of the most original films about queerness I’ve seen lately. It’s not another drama about the hardships of LGBT+ life, but rather encodes references through a creepy ’90s horror story about an obsession with a certain teen show about fighting monsters. How cool is that?
And that’s what makes this film so unique—Jane Schoenbrun has managed to create a beautiful metaphor for transgender identity through such far-out motifs, making the queer theme not at all intrusive. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t tug at the heartstrings. The director touches on themes of gender dysphoria, fear of oneself, and the mechanism of denial in such a heartbreakingly believable way that it seems only someone who has struggled with such emotions could have done it. The illusory nature of the depicted world feels like a noose around Owen’s neck, causing him to suffocate, and us too. Transgender identity and dysphoria are never directly mentioned in the film, but are clearly present under the layer of a well-written story.
However, this is not the only way to interpret this film. For those who feel that queer themes are not close enough to fully engage with the story—rest assured. The story of mixing the real and the TV world can also be interpreted as a universal tale about stepping out of one’s comfort zone, about becoming who we want to be, even if we lack the courage. About choosing what is safe or “right,” regardless of how much it kills our spirit. Ultimately, about adulthood and the power of memories, which can be carried by our favorite childhood show. About how we change over the years and how our favorite pop culture works age with us, which can be both an escape and a prison. In the end, it’s a portrait of a generation that was immersed in kitschy shows in its youth, experiencing its first emotional stirrings, fears, and perhaps even realizing who they really are in front of the screen. It might bring a tear to your eye.
And it all fits together, creating a whole that is a set of new characteristics of that strange version of you from high school. If I Saw the TV Glow were a poster, I’d plaster my entire teenage room with it. And if it were music, I’d listen to it until the record was worn out. It’s worth mentioning here that the soundtrack (composed by musician Alex G) is absolutely phenomenal and brilliantly complements the emo fluorescent mood of the film. I’m listening to it on loop.
Jane Schoenbrun answers the question of what happens when we suppress the most difficult emotions for too long until they finally explode, pouring out through every orifice, and it’s too late to put them back together. But the director sneaks up to our house again and insists on chalking on the sidewalk: “There’s still time.” Because really—it’s never too late. After watching this film, answer for yourself what it’s never too late for.