I Saw the TV Glow
The story centers on Owen (Justice Smith), an introverted teenager who finds solace and identity in a late-night television show called The Pink Opaque. Alongside Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine), an older and more charismatic friend, Owen begins to blur the lines between reality and fiction, losing himself in the neon glow of a world that feels more real than his everyday life.
“I Saw the TV Glow” is a hypnotic, unsettling, and deeply personal cinematic experience, directed by Jane Schoenbrun—already known for their experimental and intimate approach to queer cinema and psychological horror. Premiering at the Sundance Film Festival, the film quickly drew critical attention for its emotional and visual intensity.
The film explores dissociation, dysphoria, and identity construction with a surreal and melancholic tone. I Saw the TV Glow is not a traditional horror film, but rather a dreamlike, painful journey into the psyche of someone who never feels truly “real” in their own body or time.
Television becomes a metaphor for escapism and longing—a distorted mirror in which to search for answers. Schoenbrun employs a fragmented narrative to depict the disintegration of Owen’s identity, poetically and radically reflecting on trans and queer experiences.
The use of pink and purple fluorescent lighting is not merely aesthetic—it expresses the internal emotions of the characters. The light of the TV becomes almost a character in its own right.
Soundtrack
Composed by Alex G, it is a constant presence that amplifies the film’s suspended atmosphere, teetering between dream and nightmare.
Editing
Nonlinear and disorienting, it mirrors the protagonist’s perceptual instability.
Justice Smith delivers a touching and vulnerable performance, while Brigette Lundy-Paine brings a magnetic energy that balances the narrative.
I Saw the TV Glow is not for everyone: its contemplative pace, elliptical structure, and lack of easy answers may prove frustrating for those seeking a conventional plot. But for those willing to immerse themselves, it’s a powerful, profound, and above all sincere work. It’s a silent cry from those who live at the margins of their own reality—a love letter and a scream of terror for the media that raise and define us.
A film to watch, to feel, and to let settle. You won’t easily forget that television glow.