Backrooms
Archetypes, furniture, the architecture of the psyche. Backrooms as an internet phenomenon is one that is unquestionably reverberating with familiarity. What’s fascinating about the Backrooms is, what initially appears to be a conscious, calculated organism, reveals itself to be devoid of life, irrespective of how it imitates it.
Beyond the intrinsic environmental eeriness that is a constant within its vast, ever-expanding lore, the labyrinthine complex’s invigorating ability to communicate an intricate malevolence is equally notable. Not completely successful in being a traditional horror, or even particularly strong in communicating existential dread, what stands out is a bleakness. A fatalist, hopeless quality. The titular Backrooms are perhaps excessively literal, evocative of an inevitability to it all. The physical makeup of the rooms contain all the undesirable features of a declining society, reflecting an optimism annihilated by the short-sighted, predatory malignancy, an “enshittification” that permeates the present. Gaudy fluorescent lighting, yellowed ceilings, musty carpets. Outdated furnishings, both utilitarian and erratic in their placement. Outside of time and out of place, a cancer that must be studied.
This is particularly evident in how a large percentage of its hostility is marked by a passiveness, an inconsistent internal teleology — a forced incomprehension placed on the audience by the filmmakers. The synthetic elements the Backrooms are composed of, is reminiscent enough of existing media and literature tropes, that it must do little to convey the unnatural. The natural order of mankind, inhibited. Trapped in a prison of its own making, responsible for our own demise. There’s an interesting thematic thread woven into the script about control and accountability, but, alas, that too is a woefully mishandled. Unfortunately, Parsons dedicates too much of the runtime to what it doesn’t need to.
Parson’s interpretation of the Backrooms is a warped, inverted reality forged from the forgotten, a subterranean (or sub-dimensional? or subconscious?) realm of dark matter. A centrifuge of nuclear uncertainty. All great ideas — but the film doesn’t escape a redundancy encapsulated by it being a little late to the game.
Beyond the countless related forums, threads and short films online, in the realm of television we’ve seen this production design in Severance, we’ve seen the background “real world” stuff in dystopian sci-fi and YA novels of questionable quality, so it all feels rather trite and unexciting when it’s all said and done. Additionally, unlike Severance, the out of date tech and old-fashioned cars outside the Backrooms feel more like a cop-out than a justified world building choice. It even doesn’t replicate the same liminality of the spaces that the short films capture, it’s missing a certain flair that what something labeled a liminal space carries, what is not merely a transitional space.
With how painfully derivative the film is, as visceral in its atmospheric thrills as it is frustrating, I’m surprised it isn’t more polarising. Perhaps it speaks to the nature of my generation. Not only do we borrow a facsimile of the past, idealising the mundane, not only do we spend too much time curating the aesthetics of yesteryear to appear more refined, to stand out from less culturally aware slop, but we fail to have anything new to say, or a truly refreshing way to say it.
The failure of Backrooms as a feature adaptation lies in its superficial tendencies, a preoccupation with imitating everything that defines genre filmmaking produced by pseudo-indie film studios, the precisely crafted industry standards pioneered by Wan and Perkins, in an effort to do everything correctly, as if following a checklist of conventionality. I could really do without a Perkins credit on the next horror film I see.
It is convenient to point out that the quintessential hollowness of the Backrooms and its construction (both narratively and conceptually) is partly by design, and predominantly by consequence. Despite a healthy dose of skepticism, the film surprised me in its missteps in translating a mythology characterised by its anarchic malleability (an IP no one truly owns, only an iteration of it) and its initial cult following.
When I think of such technicians, Michael Bay, Joseph Kosinski and James Cameron come to mind. Where their filmographies exhibit a more sophisticated approach to engineering spectacle, but is less adept in terms of dissecting character, or original narratives. In the age of AI, advancing technology, and an oversaturated entertainment industry, it will take a lot to retain interest and satisfy audiences. Parsons’ career looks very promising and far surpasses what people my age are capable of doing with a budget like this, but he really needs to work with better writers.
If all that seems like pseudo-philosophical gibberish, it’s representative of yet another shortcoming of the film — terribly written dialogue and exposition, and an incredibly misguided edit. It would not be unreasonable to think even in this criticism, there is an element of eulogising, an overanalysis of the thematic scope Backrooms has to offer, and this is true, in a sense. Rather it’s more like what Parsons could have aspired to, but in spite of his intense technical skill and creativity, he has a long way to go in terms of refining his craft to elevate what feels like a middle of the road video game adaptation as opposed to a precisely coordinated beginnings of a franchise.