
Like other young, successful directors such as Curry Barker (of Obsession) and the Philippou brothers (Talk to Me), Kane Parsons, the director of Backrooms, came up through the world of online video. He started making viral content as a teenager, exploring the idea that would eventually become his first film, which caught the attention of A24. But these days, it’s hard to find anyone not shaped by the internet. Parsons, still in his early twenties, has never known a world without platforms like YouTube, so it’s natural he’d develop his skills online. What’s really interesting about Parsons isn’t just that he’s part of a generation raised on social media, but that his work is directly inspired by content that originated online.
The Backrooms, a popular online myth about endless, empty office spaces and hallways, wasn’t created by any single person. Like the legend of Slender Man, it emerged organically from online communities – starting on 4Chan and evolving through shared images and stories, becoming a collaborative storytelling project. Now, a feature film called Backrooms attempts to turn this online lore into a traditional horror story, starring Chiwetel Ejiofor and Renate Reinsve. However, the film’s reception has been uneven, highlighting the challenge of building a full movie around an atmosphere or feeling, even a compelling one.
The Backrooms are a particularly eerie example of the ‘liminal space’ trend – appreciating the strange, sad feeling of empty places designed for people, like abandoned malls or quiet libraries at night. These places feel unsettling because they’re not personal enough to feel like someone’s home, but also not special enough to be worth saving. They’re like the ghostly echoes of spaces. The movie Backrooms leans into this with a 1990s setting that feels stuck in time, filled with outdated furniture and forgotten stores. Characters like Clark and Mary already seem disconnected from their lives, with no strong personal connections or hobbies outside of work, even before they enter the otherworldly spaces of the Backrooms. They’re living in a sort of in-between state, and the setting reflects that feeling of being lost and adrift.
Clark, overworked and often drinking too much, feels bitter about giving up his dream of becoming an architect. He admits his flaws to his therapist, Mary, but doesn’t seem motivated to change. One night, while at the store, he discovers a hidden passageway behind a strange seam in the basement wall. It leads to a forgotten office space – dimly lit, with peeling yellow wallpaper and furniture scattered around. He explores further and finds the space goes on and on, with doorways and holes appearing where they shouldn’t. The rooms are filled with odd junk – things like stop signs and used clothing – but also hints that others have been there before, such as a display featuring a man with a tape recorder speaking greetings in different languages, and a surveillance camera connected to wires. Clark is fascinated by his discovery, even though he senses a disturbing presence lurking within the space, something he can’t quite catch on camera.
Clark, already detached from reality, vanishes into the strange, undefined world a little too readily, almost as if he’s disposable. Or, at best, he’s a shallow character – as flat as the cardboard figure he discovers. His midlife crisis feels forced and unconvincing, like an amateur performance. This isn’t entirely the actor’s fault, though; the script, by Will Soodik, doesn’t develop Clark or Mary enough to make them feel real. Both characters are reduced to a single defining trait – Clark’s bitterness and Mary’s difficult past – suggesting the writer still views adult problems from a distance. The appearance of Mark Duplass as a character seemingly designed to set up a sequel highlights the contrast: while the film creates a compelling atmosphere, its overall structure is surprisingly weak.
The unique, artistic horror films that were popular recently have become less common, as directors like Ari Aster and David Robert Mitchell are now working on different types of projects. Meanwhile, horror that relies on symbolism feels tired and predictable, with films like Him and Slanted offering nothing new. Though self-aware horror, like the Scream and Scary Movie franchises, is still around, they’ve been running for so long that they feel repetitive and lack direction. It’s likely the next wave of original horror will come from internet culture—things like creepypastas, memes, and online urban legends, which inspired the haunted-podcast film Undertone. However, Backrooms shows that filmmakers will need to work harder to turn these fragmented, non-traditional ideas into compelling, full-length stories.
What really struck me about this film is how skillfully the director creates these in-between places – spaces that feel dreamlike and a little off-kilter. There’s one scene in particular that’s amazing: we’re right with the character as they rush through a living room filled with old, sinking furniture. It’s all dark except for the glow of a Christmas tree, and it’s both creepy and strangely… welcoming. I honestly wanted to keep watching, even though I knew something wasn’t right. Honestly, though, everything around that sequence just doesn’t quite measure up.
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2026-05-29 23:57