Some Quick thoughts on the Backrooms Film

Last night, like many others, I saw a sneak preview of the new A24 Backrooms film. Unlike many of the film critics, I’ve been following this internet myth since its origins, snowballed and transformed from basic creepypasta to film form.

In some ways, Backrooms has had a similar lifecycle to The Slender Man: born as a quick post, expanded upon in deep online spaces, becoming a web series, and finally unpacking its suitcase at a major studio. The Slender Man, however, got lost in a trail of moral panics and a studio that didn’t honor the myth’s origins. I would argue that A24 got it right.

First off, Kane Parsons showed himself to be an impressive filmmaker with a mise-en-scene that genuinely evoked the liminal aesthetics that pulled in the fandom from the start. Beyond the question of story, the images of melting 1990s era furniture, impossible architectures, and physical doubling stuck to my brain like all of that mono-yellow.

But second, the narrative did something unique to the web-series-to-film pipeline of the moment. Rather than rehashing the multitude of online versions (including his own), Kane Parsons chose to build one that sits neatly atop, both acknowledging and innovating off that original.

In the end, Backrooms is a meditation on memory, place, and technology. It asks the question: What is your memory when something else has it? The themes of liminality are almost an afterthought to this bigger question. Like the original creepypasta, it is a film that relishes in your discomfort.

The film is not for everyone, but horror rarely is. Its uncomfortable topics, shift in protagonists, and uneasy resolution will not appeal to every audience. But for those folks who want to sit with hard questions and leave with conversations, Backrooms did everything it was supposed to do.

Awkward photo of me with my mono-yellow popcorn bag at the Backrooms sneak peak.