Berlinale 2024: I Saw the TV Glow
A24There is an odd comfort to the images we consume on screen. Those who have grown up alone, outcasts of society, deemed as “different” for not fitting in with the expectations of a heteronormative, patriarchal society, likely found some solace in fiction. TV shows especially, lasting for many seasons with around 20 episodes each, would become friends, a 30-minute respite from everyday life, and a chance to connect to something that feels more real than reality itself.
With their feature debut, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, filmmaker Jane Schoenbrun explored the alluring and dangerous obsession of online games and digital urban legends, consuming a girl whose virtual identity is in direct contrast with her real, tangible one. Now, with I Saw the TV Glow, they divert their gaze toward society’s media consumption, focusing on the characters of Owen (Justice Smith) and Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine).
Owen is just a couple of years younger than Maddy, but they instantly bond when he is in 7th grade over a female-led, monster-of-the-week show called The Pink Opaque. Maddy, a closeted lesbian, gets lost in the show’s intricate lore and solidarity between the two leads (Isabel and Tara, two girls living at opposite ends of the United States who can communicate on an astral plane). Owen, however, is in denial as to why he loves the show so much. To put it plainly, The Pink Opaque speaks to him on a deep, subconscious level: he can live a fun, thrilling life through the fictional characters, filling the lonely void of his daily life, seeing himself in someone that is very different from him.
I Saw the TV Glow is an existential horror in the primal sense, a slow burn that leads to a full-blown panic attack that questions some inevitable facts of life: we all age, we all fall out of love, what defined us when we were young starts to feel alien and distant, and our bodies and reality change in a way that is unrecognizable. Schoenbrun started writing this film early in their transition, and this sense of metamorphosis is palpable: while the social angst of Owen is intoxicating, spiraling out of control as he grows older and everything around him transforms, there is a beauty to this uncontrollable change that is truly hypnotic.
The performances of Smith and Lundy-Paine are transfixing, superficially deadpan but brimming with potential of what their life could be deep underneath. Eric Yue’s camerawork is impeccable, shooting on 35mm film to create a nostalgic look for the late ‘90s and early 2000s, while also perfectly capturing the low-budget look of teen shows with The Pink Opaque’s production value. Alex G’s original score is also worth mentioning, a spellbinding mix of synths and melodies that are perfectly accompanied by a whos-who of contemporary indie singers that composed original songs for the film (one musical sequence featuring Phoebe Bridgers is particularly memorable).
Despite its harrowing, oppressive atmosphere, I Saw the TV Glow is ultimately a hopeful film. For anyone who sees themselves as not belonging in this world, the story of Owen and Maddy can lead to healing: it is never too late to show yourself to the world for who you truly are, all that is needed is right inside of you, a twisted mess that needs to be opened up proudly to be embraced. An ode against repression, on the complicated feelings with the cold images reflected on a screen, and on societal death that may lead to rebirth. I Saw the TV Glow is one of the most important queer films to come out in the past few years, with layers of analysis and interpretation that will turn many into obsessive fans who will revisit this over and over again, just like Owen and Maddy do with The Pink Opaque. This may genuinely save the lives of queer people, both in and out of the closet.