Director: Jane Schoenburn
Writer: Jane Schoenburn
Stars: Justice Smith, Brigette Lundy-Paine, Amber Benson
Synopsis: Two teenagers bond over their love of a supernatural TV show, but it is mysteriously cancelled.
After the major buzz of their last film, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, filmmaker Jane Schoenburn became quite the genre filmmaker star. Any possible doubt regarding their talent will be instantly quelled with I Saw The TV Glow. Prior to the world premiere of the film, Schoenburn stated their vision for the film prior to the first day of shooting. With “I Saw The TV Glow, they “tried to make a movie that would play at midnight screenings at the IFC Center for 20–30 years to come.” It only takes a few minutes to realize that their vision is basically set in stone, but furthermore, it shows that Schoenburn has absolutely no thoughts of slowing down their complete commitment of bringing bold filmic visions to audiences.
The film opens with Owen (a career-best Justice Smith) revealing that he has just decided to restart his favorite show after being unable to sleep. The fictional show is called The Pink Opaque, and it’s television made for young adults. Think along the lines of Saved By The Bell or Boy Meets World… except way more demented. Upon his first introduction to the show through 9th grader Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine), she explains how yes, it is a kids show, but it’s also way more than that. It’s full of deep lore and an artistic vision that would give most adults nightmares. The few glimpses Schoenburn creates for their audience begin as comedic, but slowly morph into something frightening. In many ways, it feels like an encapsulation of the film and Schoenburn’s directorial vision, which will be touched upon in a moment. But right off the bat, Schoenburn poses a question that, while on the surface it may seem simple, is far more complex and rooted in our very own existentialism.
Why, in a world that constantly has new art being created, do we find ourselves being drawn back to those comfort watches? What’s the specific reason behind restarting a show for the umpteenth time? The simple answer is that it reminds us of a time that has since passed. Watching a show we used to watch as kids is no different than smelling a homemade family recipe. Yet there’s also something that could be a bit frightening about revisiting something we once connected with in our past. To address this idea, it’s important to note why we even turn to art in the first place, beyond mere entertainment.
Art often presents the answers to our dilemmas in a way we can cope with at a distance. It’s cathartic to see a character we admire or love in the same situation we believe ourselves to be in. Overcoming obstacles either physically, mentally, or emotionally in real life is difficult. But if we see all of our favorite characters in movies and television do it, why can’t we follow in their footsteps? We often look to external sources in the hopes that we are able to gain perspective of our own lives. And that seeming inability to solve our own problems both powerfully and bravely, as Owen and Maddy obsess over the main teen characters of The Pink Opaque, might drive us a bit mad. The two begin to find the lines of reality and television blurred, and as they become more entranced by this TV show, their minds appear to become more and more fragmented. Smith, as Owen, delivers such a stone-faced performance full of melancholy, and as his life begins making less and less sense, the performance only strengthens.
Take, for example, an expert cameo that Schoenburn places in the middle of the film with an incredibly beloved comedic actor. Known for his brash abrasiveness, through the lens of the film, it becomes utter discomfort. In the eyes of Owen, it’s as if he fundamentally cannot make sense of the world without the glow of his television. And all those around him, with the exception of Maddy, either try to pick up the pieces, question bluntly, or don’t seem to care at all. It’s a vicious cycle of loneliness, with only The Pink Opaque to guide him through his solace. But even that turns menacing as we learn that the show not only was canceled, but left on an abrupt, frightening cliffhanger.
In what is surely one of the most stunningly crafted and deeply horrific sequences of the year, Owen’s reality all but collapses in on itself. If the art we see ourselves in so deeply and so fully is not only canceled, but ends in such a way that shows there’s no hope for even the best of us, what are we to do? It’s a devastating feeling to lose out on any show, but for characters like Owen and Maddy, it’s clear that their obsession often teeters on the edge of being detrimental. In the end, the art we turn to in the time of need may go away, but it also might return in a new form. As Owen, years later, realizes the show is now streaming, an incredibly comedic and bleak realization is made. Time marches ever onward, and in the space of a single cut, two decades might pass, and we find ourselves inexplicably lost in an aging body. And when that realization is made, when there is seemingly nobody else to turn to, and we realize we might be walking through life practically a ghost… What more is there to do other than shriek for help and pray somebody might hear and come to aid us? Make no mistake, Schoenburn’s I Saw The TV Glow is an incredibly bleak portrayal of feeling separated from one’s true self. Yet, it also remains a vital outlook on queer and trans identity, and is emboldened by its consistently unique vision and personal depth. Schoenburn has crafted such a detailed and visceral portrayal of their experience with transitioning, and will surely remain a critical piece of queer filmmaking for decades to come. In the end, it looks like the IFC Center will always have a bit of guaranteed programming to look forward to.
I Saw The TV Glow celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Midnight section, and will be released by A24 later this year.
