Teenager Owen is just trying to make it through life in the suburbs when his classmate introduces him to a mysterious late-night TV show — a vision of a supernatural world beneath their own. In the pale glow of the television, Owen’s view of reality begins to crack.
Justice Smith Brigette Lundy-Paine Ian Foreman Helena Howard Lindsey Jordan Danielle Deadwyler Fred Durst Conner O'Malley Emma Portner Madaline Riley Amber Benson Albert Birney Michael C. Maronna Danny Tamberelli Timothy Allan Tyler Dean Flores Elizabeth Scopel Marlyn Bandiero Haley Dahl Raina Block Bailey Wollowitz Lily Rothman Phoebe Bridgers Kris Esfandiari Wilson Flores Thommy Northcut Julie Lodhy Michael Twaine Evangeline Johns Show All…
Brendan Canning Charles Spearin Emily Haines James Shaw Jessica Moss John Crossingham Justin Peroff Kevin Drew Kyle Pulley Frances Quinlan Caroline Polachek A. G. Cook Emily A. Sprague Haley Dahl Phoebe Bridgers Maria Bobbitt-Chertock L'Rain Ben Chapoteau-Katz Andrew Lappin Genevieve DeGroot
Dan Bricker Daniel Timmons Tim Korn Julia Shirar Curtis Henderson Chris White Leslie Bloome Shaun Brennan
Ray Cintron Aaron Worman Erica Ensminger Manny Lemus Alex Solorzano Ashley K. Thomas Bethany Serpico
Я видел свечение телевизора, 我看到电视发光, Я видел свет телевизора, J'ai vu la télé briller, 荧屏在发光
USA
Sundance Film Festival
Germany
Berlin International Film Festival
USA
South by Southwest Film & TV Festival
USA
Overlook Film Festival
Canada
Calgary Underground Film Festival
USAPG-13
New York City, New York
AustraliaR 18+
Sydney Film Festival
UK
Sundance Film Festival: London
Netherlands
Imagine Fantastic Film Festival
USAPG-13
UK
CanadaPG
USAPG-13
Australia
Canada
Germany
Netherlands
UK
USA
My name is Julie. I am a trans woman. And tonight is the first time I’ve said those words to anyone other than myself.
I first started questioning my gender identity around my sophomore year of high school. It had never crossed my mind when I was younger; I thought I was comfortable with my identity, until very gradually becoming overwhelmed with the feeling I wasn’t. Looking back in hindsight, I think I had always felt uncomfortable in my own skin to some degree, but I never knew how to put a finger on it. I slowly started to realize I’d be happier as a girl, but the more confident I became in that assertion, the more scared I became…
I don’t even know what to say
I find myself reverting to someone I never was. A feeling unburied by waves of nostalgic torment that hasn’t been a part of my life
I wanna curl up in a little ball and lock away the world, I don’t want to speak about what’s going or process a moment
Even while writing these very words I feel shaky and cold but something is trying to bring me comfort. I feel like I’ve been crying for years but I haven’t shed a tear
This is something I desperately need to rewatch the moment I can. I selfishly want a theater all to myself to let the screen speak to me and only me. I need this on in my room without any burden of the world
Whether this is what I’m supposed to feel or against I couldn’t tell you
Thank you Jane
“time wasn’t right. it was moving too fast. i was 19, and then i was 20, and then i was 21. like chapters skipped over in a dvd. i told myself ‘this isn’t normal. this isn’t normal. this isn’t how life is supposed to feel.’”
was stunned speechless for a few seconds after finishing this one. don’t know what else to say other than that it got under my skin in a way few films ever have, with its nightmarish sights and sounds already seared into my memory. knew this one would hit hard for Obvious Reasons (🏳️⚧️), but even after going in with that awareness, i still wasn’t fully prepared for how hard the hit would be. a devastating…
The horror of a high school acquaintance suddenly re-entering your life with a nonbinary haircut
so good and amazing but i laughed when the flashback scenes ended and it said “two years later” and the black child actor suddenly turned biracial
horror movie about how if u don’t transition ur lips will eventually become soooo chapped
the horror inherent to knowing who you are and being too scared to truly let yourself come into it, the terror of spending every day wondering if it’s too late for you, if you’ve wasted every waking day deceiving yourself. there’s a certain sort of neurodivergent obsession (with works of art you gravitate to early on in youth) portrayed here to such pitch perfection, the awkwardness of trying to relay that passion to other people, trying to make yourself understand how it’s changed you… it’s going to make so many people Seen for the first time and i could not be happier for how this is about to change their lives. enormous, truly singular. a total fucking face melter. will have to sit on it for roughly the next eternity. if We’re All Going To The World’s Fair was the beta, this is the final release, an aesthetic opus of nostalgia dysphoria ghost horror. a masterpiece maybe?
a man lives in a town that's beginning to flood. when he gets the evacuation notice, he decides to stay put. as the streets around him fill with water, a neighbor paddles by in a boat.
"get in," the neighbor says, "i'll get you out of here."
"no need," the man replies. "i've been praying, and god will save me."
eventually, the flood waters rise so high that his house is underwater. he's forced to sit on the roof and wait for salvation. an emergency rescue boat sees him, and speeds over.
"get in," the rescuer says, "i'll get you out of here."
"no need," the man replies. "i've been praying, and god will save me."
the flood rises so…
Sinister and liberating in equal measure (and often at the same time), Jane Schoenbrun’s ultra-lo-fi “We’re All Going to the World’s Fair” leveraged the inherent loneliness of webcams and the performative danger of online creepypasta into a haunting portrait of the potentially dysphoric relationship between screens and identity in the internet age. The kind of sui generis shot in the dark that feels like it could only have been made by someone who wasn’t sure if anyone would see it, Schoenbrun’s first movie is one of the rare coming-of-age films that manages to embody the full dread and possibility of self-recognition, and for that reason it almost immediately resonated with an audience of people — trans people in particular —…
It wasn't obvious that (until now) no one of my generation has truly been doing "Lynchian" work until seeing this. I mean, there are people who allude to his style, but nobody has been mining the substrate of mid 90s-2000s suburban mundanity for the static currents of repressed horror, in the same way Lynch did with the 50s, small town Americana, and Los Angeles.
The glow of the screen fits all too perfectly into some part of us that aches to be filled. At least for a while. But in doing so did it rob us of some essential reality? It there just an empty, static void, rippling behind the glow? Has that emptiness taken root inside us?
Lynch isn't…
