I Saw the TV Glow, the latest film from Jane Schoenbrun, is perhaps the most quintessentially millennial film ever made. Its fondness for the unhinged television programming of the 90s and 00s goes beyond nostalgia. It argues that it has absorbed itself into our very soul. This is the central metaphor of the movie: a late night young adult program called The Pink Opaque is more than just cheaply made television for alt teens. The show recalls CW classics like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, while also playing into the surreality of the more mature-minded shows that’d air later on Nickelodeon, “before reruns of old black & white shows”. The shows were an odd mix of impenetrable nihilism and didactic aphorism. They could be beyond comprehension and incredibly on-the-nose all at the same time.

Schoenbrun captures this aesthetic perfectly, all while maintaining the unsettling tension that ran through all the episodes. The Pink Opaque is more than just a best friends take on the forces of the outer world show, it was a disturbingly violent and scary depiction of suburban inanity. This is why it catches the eye of Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine) and Owen (Justice Smith), two grade schoolers who struggle mightily to get on within the mediocrity of the American domesticity. In all its fuzzy ambiguities, the show seems to speak to these kids whose home lives have become purgatories of heartbreak and loneliness. Maddy is a bit older, and takes the dynamics of the show more seriously. Owen is more than happy to just ride the vibes, but when Maddy begins to suggest that the show is more than what meets the eye, reality becomes bent and Owen can’t be too sure what’s real and what’s television.

Schoenbrun is channeling a lot of Cronenberg here – that and several noted references to the iconic Smashing Pumpkins music video for their smash 1995 hit “Tonight Tonight”. Finally someone does Cronenberg body horror and remembers that the characters are just as important as the gore. There are moments when Glow becomes just as indecipherable as the shows its depicting, and in its final moments it becomes explicit about the meanings behind its numerous allusions (Schoenbrun has been transparent that the film is about trans identity, and her film makes that clear). That said, this is still an exciting entry from an exciting filmmaker who is stretching the boundaries of contemporary independent film. A score from musical artist Alex G. follows Challengers as an equal parts catchy and immersive musical experience that separates itself from anything else you can watch today.

 

Written and Directed by Jane Schoenbrun