The nostalgia machine is in overdrive these days: every other day, another reboot or spin-off is announced (just today, the Legally Blonde prequel and the Tomb Raider series made headlines). But none of Hollywood's efforts come close to capturing the feeling of '90s childhood as well as director Jane Schoenbrun's new psychological horror film " I Saw the TV Glow."
This hilarious A24 film follows Owen (Justice Smith) and Maddie (Brigette Lundy-Paine), a pair of high school outcasts who bond over their love of supernatural, lore-filled television shows. The story of an inextricable bond. Suffocated by suburban social norms, they begin to feel that the show is more real than reality.
I Saw the Light of Television is filled with surreal, stylish imagery—even hallucinations. But the magic of this film is its refusal to feel magical. All enchantments are extracted. The fog of burnout widens, filling the vacuum.
This is the director's personal story. Growing up in the suburbs of New York in the 1990s, he always felt that something was wrong with his surroundings. “You can’t talk about suburbia without talking about white supremacy and white flight,” Schoenbrun, 37, tells Bustle. “The idea of security and stability only exists in the things it excludes.” Add in a bit of the “end of history” delusion of the 1990s, and the world only gets murkier.
Smith's character Owen also struggles with the disorientation of gender dysphoria. Schoenbrunn says his homophobic father - played with a menacing tone by Limp Bizkit frontman Fred Durst - instilled in Irving "a stigma that was primarily ambient and made Owen was unable to explore and discover himself”. "In many ways, [that shame] was a force that stole decades from my life in a very subtle and peripheral way." For a while, the fandom provided an escape way, but it's not a bad substitute for what they need.
Only by being completely freed from shame can Schönbrunn be able to let "I Saw the TV Glow" warn others: Don't get lost in the fog.
Below, Schönbrunn discusses the realities of making a studio film, how it ended, and how they're really feeling about their fan base now.
"It was crazy and mischievous and felt like a robbery, but it was something I could be proud of and something completely exhausting and unhinged."
Your last film, the indie micro-budget We're All Going to the World's Fair , was very different from the release of this film. What was it like going on a whirlwind media tour with A24?
I did do my fair share of journalism last time, but not like this, but I've learned that, for the sake of my own sanity, I'm not here to regurgitate six talking points. I'm here to unpack as much as I can about the film, the process, and who I am. I try to think about this as I ramble about my memoirs to anyone who will listen. So that's interesting.
Are your rambling conversations taking you somewhere you didn't expect?
Yes, I'm emotionally invested in a way that [PR professionals] wouldn't recommend when giving advice on how to do a press tour.
I really care about and believe in the role of artists in society. We live in a very strange and terrible society. Hopefully that comes through in the work, but I also try not to follow the corporate line to create maximum good vibes. I just wanted to be honest with myself about who I am and what I've done and all the weird and difficult and strange ways of being transgender and making films within a corporate structure, and trying to make them honest and subversive about reality. to the extent they can achieve. I'm proud of it. I guess I'm also happy to be able to say in public how weird this is.
Is there anything particularly strange about it?
Once I made my first movie and it went well — and I made it on my own terms, with a lot of creative freedom — I knew I had this cool opportunity. I have the political power to say, "Hey, here's a big version of something I can do."
To do that in a way that I can be proud of — as a trans person who comes from a very specific look at the world, and how I view trans — is inherently political. [This is] clearly the opposite of the binary system that structures our country. I don't want to reinforce these structures. I knew I had this opportunity to do something radical and essentially spend other people's money.
I was also very aware that in order to do that, I needed to enter that commercial space and participate in my own commodification. It's a very strange tightrope walk and dance. It was crazy and naughty and felt like a robbery, but it was something I could be proud of and something completely exhausting and psychotic.
The movie does n't end with a happy ending. Why wouldn't you want to tie the ends neatly like this?
like what?
You know, if he realizes he's experiencing dysphoria, he'll go all out and build a new life and so on.
To do it in a way that was consistent with my experience as a trans person would have taken longer, longer than I had in the running time of the movie.
When I finally saw myself the way Owen finally saw himself - in a way that I couldn't hide anymore, when I was ready to say, "Okay, maybe I have to start living my life" - that's when after a few A decade of repression, destruction and trauma. When I first started my body transition, I remember being completely overwhelmed. I think that's enough for a movie, and enough for a character arc that's authentic to the trans experience.
What do you hope viewers take away from the ending?
I don't think this is a cautionary tale. I don't think it's a sad ending. I think when trans people watch this movie, in general, they'll understand this. I think they were moved to see something that, by portraying a simplified narrative of self-perception, didn't feel like it would appease a cis audience.
My deepest goal with this film was to be emotionally honest so that others who went through what I went through wouldn't feel so alone. I think that's actually an optimistic way of making a movie, saying, "I'm not going to sugarcoat this so we can feel good about ourselves unless we're trans."
At one point, I knew you wrote Buffy the Vampire Slayer and The X-Files fan fiction, and I was curious to know what your fan fiction was about.
Well, actually, I know exactly what my Buffy reboot is going to be.
Oh yeah?
I would love to reboot Buffy . I have a whole stadium. If anyone wanted to call me... I don't know if I would really want to do that because the idea of rebooting something you love so deeply feels dangerous. Can you really recapture the magic of childhood? I feel like I made a film about how unstable this concept is.
My X-Files fanfic is a mess. I was only 10 years old at the time and I don't quite remember what I wrote. I did make up some fake Buffy spoilers once. I loved spoilers as a kid. Even when I was ten I wanted to be in the writers' room.
Do you read fan fiction today?
I spend less time in the corners of the internet I once clung to, which I think is a healthy evolution. I feel more capable of living a fulfilling real life rather than being obsessed with fiction.
It took me many years of studying before I was ready to create my own art. Study, dive into television, or just obsessively sift through film classics trying to understand what moves me. At this point in my life, my life has almost become my muse. Or that I’m living it and trying to reflect that experience into the work that I do.
When did you know you were ready to start creating your own work?
When I found out I was trans. Literally, I made Mushrooms and I was trying to figure out why I felt so anxious and ashamed and embarrassed about making my first film. I was still writing "World's Fair" at that time.
It all basically made me realize that [in order to] make art that was true to me, meant acknowledging who I was and starting the long, slow process of learning to love that part of myself. I was told that these things were ugly, shameful and needed to be hidden.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
