You know that feeling when a piece of art doesn't just entertain you, but actually feels like it’s looking back at you? It’s uncomfortable. Jane Schoenbrun’s I Watched the TV Glow is exactly that kind of movie. It isn't just a neon-soaked nostalgia trip for people who grew up on Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Are You Afraid of the Dark?—it’s a slow-motion car crash of identity and the absolute horror of doing nothing with your life.
Most movies about fandom focus on how stories "save" us. This one is different. It’s about how stories can be a life raft that eventually becomes a cage if you never actually step onto dry land.
Why I Watched the TV Glow is Ruining Everyone’s Sleep
The plot is deceptively simple, yet it feels like a fever dream. We follow Owen, a shy kid played by Justice Smith, who meets Maddy, an older girl played by Brigette Lundy-Paine. They bond over a fictional 90s show called The Pink Opaque. For Owen, this show is his only connection to reality. Or rather, it’s his escape from a reality that feels wrong.
Schoenbrun captures a very specific type of suburban rot. The lighting is purple and sickly. The streets are empty. It feels like the mid-2000s in a way that hurts. Honestly, the film is a trans allegory, but it’s so much more than a "coming out" story. It’s a "never coming out" story. It’s the horror of staying in the closet until the air runs out.
The Midnight Realm and the Pink Opaque
In the film, The Pink Opaque features two girls, Isabel and Tara, who fight a moon-faced villain named Mr. Melancholy. He’s basically a stand-in for depression and the status quo.
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When the show gets canceled, the characters' lives fall apart. Maddy disappears. Years later, she returns with a terrifying claim: the show wasn't just a show. They were the girls in the show. They’ve been buried alive in the "real world" by Mr. Melancholy, and their real lives are happening somewhere else, behind the static.
Owen can’t do it. He can’t take the leap. He stays. He grows old. He works at a family fun center where the air is stale and the carpet is sticky. He has a panic attack in the middle of a shift and literally cuts himself open to show the glow inside, then... he apologizes. He just keeps apologizing for existing.
It’s brutal.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Ending
A lot of viewers walk away from I Watched the TV Glow feeling depressed, and yeah, that makes sense. It’s a tragedy. But there’s a massive detail written on a sidewalk in chalk at the very end of the movie: "There is still time."
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This isn't a movie about being doomed. It’s a movie about the fear of being doomed.
Many critics, like those at Vulture and The New York Times, have pointed out how Schoenbrun uses the aesthetic of "analog horror" to describe the trans experience. The static on the screen represents the dissociation of living in a body that doesn't feel like yours. When Owen looks in the mirror and sees a different face, or when he hears his own voice and it sounds like it's coming from a mile away, that’s not just "movie magic." That’s a real, documented psychological state.
The Music is a Character Itself
We have to talk about the soundtrack. It features King Woman, Caroline Polachek, and Alex G. The music doesn't just sit in the background; it drives the emotional decay. When King Woman performs in that dive bar, it’s one of the most haunting sequences in modern cinema. It’s loud. It’s abrasive. It feels like a scream for help that nobody hears because they’re too busy staring at their own screens.
Why This Movie Matters in 2026
We live in an era of hyper-nostalgia. We’re obsessed with reboots and "comfort watches." I Watched the TV Glow argues that comfort might be killing us. If you spend your whole life looking backward at the things that once made you feel safe, you might miss the chance to actually become who you are.
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The film serves as a warning against the "suburban coma." It’s about the people who stayed in their hometowns and let their internal lights go out because they were too afraid of what people would think if they changed.
Practical Takeaways from the Film
If this movie hit you hard, it’s probably because you recognize a bit of Owen in yourself. We all have a "Pink Opaque"—something we use to numb the fact that we aren't living authentically.
- Identify the Dissociation. If your life feels like a TV show you're just watching rather than living, pay attention to that. Owen’s mistake wasn't liking the show; it was letting the show replace his agency.
- Audit Your Nostalgia. Are you consuming media because it inspires you, or because it protects you from the present? There’s a fine line between a hobby and a hiding place.
- Acknowledge the Glow. The "glow" in the movie is the internal spark of your true self. It can be suppressed, but it can’t be killed. The ending suggests that as long as you’re breathing, you can still "rip your chest open" and let the truth out.
- Stop Apologizing. The most heartbreaking part of the film is Owen's constant "sorry." If you are transitioning, changing careers, or just shifting your personality to match your internal reality, you don't owe the world an apology for the inconvenience of your growth.
I Watched the TV Glow is a masterpiece of the "New Weird" cinema. It doesn't give you a happy ending because happy endings are earned through action, and Owen chooses inaction. To avoid his fate, you have to be willing to break the screen.
The most important thing to do after watching is to look at your own life and ask: "Am I actually here, or am I just watching the static?" If the answer scares you, good. Use that fear to move. There is still time.