Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Jane Schoenbrun
Starring: Justice Smith, Brigette Lundy-Paine, Ian Foreman, Helena Howard, Fred Durst, Danielle Deadwyler
When Twin Peaks was first airing on TV there was only one other kid I knew of in my
school who watched the show through its entire two season run; many had
hopped onboard initially but quickly ditched "that weird show." While the
show was airing, one of the highlights of my week was seeking him out the
day after a new episode aired and spending our lunch hour breaking down
the episode and theorising what everything meant, where it was all headed,
and arguing over who was hotter - Madchen Amick or Sherilyn Fenn? When the
show was cancelled, it wasn't just the end of the series, it was the end
of our friendship. We never spoke again. Twin Peaks was the only thing we had in common.
Jane Schoenbrun's second feature, I Saw the TV Glow, is about two high schoolers who similarly bond over a TV show, but
their bond goes far deeper. The show speaks to something within them,
something exciting but also unsettling, something they don't understand
yet know to be true.
In 1996 shy seventh grader Owen (Ian Foreman) stumbles across
punky lesbian ninth grader Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine) reading a
book that peaks his curiosity. It's an episode guide for a TV show called
'The Pink Opaque', a monster-of-the-week series in which two teenage girls
use their psychic connection to defeat various supernatural foes without
ever meeting in person. Maddy's enthusiastic description of her favourite
show wins over Owen, who begins having secret sleepovers in Maddy's house
on Saturday nights when new episodes air. Two years later, Owen (now
played by Justice Smith) and Maddy no longer share sleepovers
but Maddy tapes each new episode and leaves it in the school darkroom for
Owen to find. Then one day Maddy makes good on her promise of escaping her
stifling suburb and disappears without a trace, leaving Owen alone in a
world in which he doesn't feel he belongs. Years later, The Pink Opaque
makes a surprise reappearance in Owen's life, and the lines between
fiction and reality begin to blur.
"Nostalgia" has become a dirty word thanks to Hollywood lazily digging up
past glories with brand recognition rather than taking a chance on new
ideas and perspectives. There are some in Hollywood who believe all it
takes to stir nostalgic feelings is a Kate Bush needle drop or a reference
to a discontinued soda drink. But nostalgia isn't simply about triggering
memories of products, movies or songs. For most of us, nostalgia is
interconnected with the safety of childhood, that time when you were
protected by others, when your life had certainty. The products, movies
and songs of your childhood are simply triggers. The '90s was an
objectively awful decade, a time when racism, homophobia and misogyny were
all default settings, but there was a level of certainty and security for
young people that no longer exists. Today young people don't even know
when or if a second season of their favourite TV show might air. In the
'90s you knew it was on at the same time every week, that no matter how
bad a week you were having, you had that to look forward to at least.
Despite its '90s setting and its pitch perfect visual recreation through
The Pink Opaque of that era's cult TV shows (along with a nod to the
iconic music videos that accompanied The Smashing Pumpkins' era-defining
album 'Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness'), I Saw the TV Glow doesn't rely on lazy cultural signifiers, in fact its soundtrack is
resolutely modern in its selection of artists. It's only set in the '90s
and 2000s because that's the era Schoenbrum presumably recalls best. The
nostalgia here is for an era of life, not of history.
It's a nostalgia that's tempered by an outsider's sense of feeling
homesick for a place where they never quite felt at home. It's well
documented that Schoenbrum is trans, and with that in mind it's impossible
not to read I Saw the TV Glow as a trans allegory, especially when the film's colour scheme is so
influenced by the trans flag with its shades of pink and blue. But it's an
allegory that will speak to anyone who feels like they're living a life
that's been assigned to them rather than the one they wished for themself.
Owen speaks of feeling hollow inside, of feeling there's something "wrong"
with him, and through Maddy he's given a chance to take a path towards the
life he should be living. Thing is, it's a scary path, and Maddy's
ramblings sound as mad as the idea that a woman could be trapped in a
man's body did to most of us not so long ago. Schoenbrun is doing
something similar here to what Spielberg did with Close Encounters. That sci-fi drama was influenced by Spielberg feeling like he didn't
belong as a young Jewish man in suburban America, and here Jewishness is
swapped out for gender identity. There's even a scene in which Owen has a
surreal experience on a late night road that plays like a direct reference
to Close Encounters. But Schoenbrun asks what if Richard Dreyfuss was too scared to board
the UFO and remained in suburbia? The answer here is tragic, as we watch
Owen sleepwalk through a life he never wanted, gradually turning a ghostly
pale as he succumbs to a sickness he can't express to anyone around
him.
What makes the film's later scenes so devastating is the intoxicating
nature of the early scenes as Owen and Maddy bond over their favourite
show. Sitting in silence and watching a movie or TV show with a friend,
lover or family member is one of the simple joys of life, and it's often a
way of bonding with people you love but with whom you have little in
common. My dad was a very stoic Irishman of the generation that didn't
like to speak a whole lot and certainly never expressed their feelings, so
I don't recall ever having any deep conversations with him, but I have
cherished memories of sitting in silence with my dad and enjoying the
handful of movies that saw our very different tastes overlap.
There's a beguiling sequence that follows Owen through the halls of his
school as he heads to the darkroom to collect the latest tape left by
Maddy. As we follow Owen the screen fills with Maddy's scrawled VHS
labels, a collage of episode titles and geeky messages only Owen would
understand. It's an encapsulation of the romance we've lost to the digital
age, Maddy's tapes as suffused with the warmth of connection as the
exchanged letters of 84 Charing Cross Road. When Owen later dumps his CRT TV for a flatscreen it's like watching a
boy putting his pet dog to sleep. We live in a digital world, but some of
us still have analog hearts. If Close Encounters is about finding your tribe, I Saw the TV Glow is about finding yourself, as terrifying as that may be.
I Saw the TV Glow is on UK/ROI
VOD now.
