UMVA has learned that a new horror movie, Backrooms, has been making waves with its unique blend of psychological thrills and nostalgic longing. The film is grounded in a mourning for lost things that could only be called conservative, evoking a sense of melancholy for a bygone era.
The movie's concept is derived from an internet myth about a series of seemingly unused rooms adjacent to retail establishments. This eerie setup summons fears of hidden places where few legitimate exits present themselves, making for a truly unsettling viewing experience.
Director Kane Parsons has enlarged the film's emotional palette, moving beyond mere fright to encourage lament for the early 1990s, decaying strip malls, and dying furniture stores. The backrooms, a central element of the film, are affixed to these fading commercial landscapes, serving as a poignant reminder of what's been lost.
One of the main characters, Mary, a psychiatrist with a questionable emotional wellness, is a fascinating study in contrasts. Her confident therapeutic philosophy, expounded in sessions with clients and on late-night TV commercials, belies a deeper sense of vulnerability. A particularly poignant moment comes when she watches one of her own commercials on TV, surrounded by the comforts of her living room.
As Mary's story intersects with Clark's, a struggling furniture store owner, the film takes a dark turn. Clark's life is a litany of dissatisfactions, from his ex-wife's professional ambitions to his own failed dreams of becoming an architect. Chiwetel Ejiofor shines in this role, bringing a depth and nuance to Clark's character that's both captivating and heartbreaking.
Curiosity gets the better of Clark, leading him to explore the basement of his store, where he discovers the backrooms. What follows is a series of terrifying set pieces, as Clark and later Mary navigate the labyrinthine corridors and spaces that defy logic and geometry. The film's use of tension and suspense is masterful, leaving the viewer on edge.
As the story unfolds, the backrooms become a metaphor for the archeology of commercial landscapes in America. Clark and Mary's fascination with these abandoned spaces serves as a poignant reminder of the human connection to place and the power of nostalgia. The film's quiet truth is that the backrooms pull us in not because we have a death wish but because we're drawn to the history and meaning behind even the most mundane spaces.
The movie's climax introduces a subplot involving a powerful medical equipment company that's discovered the backrooms, adding a sense of conspiracy and unease to the narrative. While this twist is engaging, it's the film's more introspective moments that truly resonate, inviting the viewer to reflect on their own relationship with the spaces that shape their lives.
