It starts as a faint glow in the dark. Jane Schoenbrun’s I Saw the TV Glow isn’t just a movie about a weird 90s show; it’s a visceral, neon-soaked scream about the horror of staying asleep while your life rots away. If you've seen it, you know the line. It's scribbled in chalk on a suburban street. It's screamed through the static of a flickering CRT screen. I saw the TV glow there is still time is a message that feels like a lifeline and a death sentence all at once.
Most people watch movies to escape. This movie is about the danger of escaping too well. It’s about Owen, a kid who finds a sense of self in a fictional show called The Pink Opaque, only to realize years later that the show might have been the only real thing about him.
The Message in the Static
The phrase "there is still time" isn't just a plot point. It’s the heartbeat of the film. When Maddy (played by Brigette Lundy-Paine) returns after years of being "inside" the show, she isn't just a fan anymore. She’s a survivor. She tells Owen that their reality—the boring, gray, suffocating suburbs—is actually the "Midnight Realm." It’s a psychic prison created by Mr. Melancholy to keep them from their true selves.
Honestly, it sounds like a schizophrenic break. That’s the brilliance of Schoenbrun’s writing. You’re never quite sure if Maddy is enlightened or if she’s just lost her mind to nostalgia. But then you see Owen. He’s aging, but not growing. He’s breathing, but he’s not alive. He’s coughing up static.
The urgency of I saw the TV glow there is still time hits different when you realize the alternative. The alternative is "the funeral." In the film, Mr. Melancholy buries the protagonists alive in the "real" world, forcing them to live out mundane, miserable lives until they forget who they were. For anyone who has ever felt like they are performing a version of themselves that doesn't fit, this isn't sci-fi. It’s a documentary.
Why the 90s Aesthetic Matters
We’re obsessed with the 90s. It’s a fact. But I Saw the TV Glow uses that nostalgia as a weapon. It references shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer or The Adventures of Pete & Pete (even featuring a cameo from Lindsey Felton and Danny Tamberelli).
However, this isn't the "I love the 90s" you see on a Buzzfeed list. It’s the 90s of damp carpets, flickering streetlights, and the isolation of being a queer kid in a pre-internet world. The glow of the TV was the only window to a world where people like Owen and Maddy could exist.
When Maddy writes I saw the TV glow there is still time on the pavement, she’s trying to break that window. She’s saying that the "fictional" world was the real one. It’s a radical take on identity. Most stories tell us to "grow up" and leave our fantasies behind. Schoenbrun suggests that for some, the fantasy was the only place they were ever safe, and leaving it was the true tragedy.
The Midnight Realm is Real Life
Let’s talk about the ending. It’s polarizing. Some people find it devastatingly bleak. Others see a spark of hope. Owen is an old man, working at an entertainment center, literally apologizing for his own existence as he has a panic attack. He cuts his chest open. Inside? Not blood and guts.
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The glow.
The static.
Even at the very end, after decades of suppression, the message holds true. I saw the TV glow there is still time means exactly what it says. It is never too late to reclaim your identity, even if you’ve spent forty years pretending to be someone else.
Justice Smith’s performance here is haunting. He plays Owen with this sort of permanent flinch. He’s a man who has been "shushed" by society for so long that he doesn't know how to speak. When he finally screams, it’s not a moment of triumph. It’s a moment of excruciating birth.
Breaking Down the Allegory
The film is widely recognized as a trans allegory. Schoenbrun, who is non-binary, has been very open about this. But the beauty of the "there is still time" mantra is how it scales. It works for anyone who is living a "compulsory" life.
- The person in the wrong career.
- The person in the wrong marriage.
- The person who stopped making art because it didn't pay the bills.
The "Midnight Realm" is the comfort of the status quo. It’s the "it’s fine" that we tell ourselves when we’re actually miserable. The TV glow is the reminder of our potential.
The Sound of the Glow
You can't talk about this movie without talking about the soundtrack. Music is how the message spreads. Artists like Caroline Polachek, Yeule, and Florist create a sonic landscape that feels like a dream you’re trying to remember while someone is shaking you awake.
The track "Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl" by Yeule is particularly vital. It’s a cover of the Broken Social Scene song, but it’s distorted. It’s glitched out. It mirrors the way Owen’s memories of The Pink Opaque have been corrupted by time.
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When you hear the music, you feel the "glow." It’s that humming energy of something bigger than your 9-to-5 life. It’s the feeling of realizing that the world is much weirder—and much more terrifying—than you were told.
Why People Are Getting the Movie Wrong
I’ve seen a lot of reviews calling this a "horror movie about a TV show." That’s like saying The Matrix is a movie about sunglasses.
The horror isn't the monsters in The Pink Opaque. The monsters are actually kind of cheesy, intentionally so. The horror is the 20-year time skip. It’s the way the camera lingers on Owen’s face as he gets older and more hollow.
The terror of I saw the TV glow there is still time is the "still." It implies a ticking clock. It implies that eventually, time will run out. The film forces the audience to look at their own lives. Are you in the Midnight Realm? Are you ignoring the chalk writing on your own driveway?
A Masterclass in Visual Storytelling
Schoenbrun uses color like a blunt instrument. The real world is desaturated. It’s beige. It’s fluorescent. But the world of the "glow" is neon pink and deep, celestial blue.
This visual contrast makes the phrase I saw the TV glow there is still time feel like a physical sensation. You want to reach into the screen and grab the color. You want to pull Owen out of his gray life.
The film also uses a lot of direct address. Characters look right into the lens. They talk to us. It breaks the fourth wall in a way that feels intrusive. It’s not a "cool" meta-trick. It’s an SOS. They are telling the audience that there is still time for us, too.
How to Live the Message
If you’ve watched the movie and felt that pit in your stomach, you’ve experienced the "glow." So, what do you do with it?
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You don't have to literally cut your chest open (please don't). But the "actionable" part of this film is about radical honesty. It’s about looking at the things you loved when you were "real"—before the world told you to be "normal"—and finding a way back to them.
Maybe it's a hobby you abandoned. Maybe it's a part of your identity you tucked away to make others comfortable.
I saw the TV glow there is still time is a call to action. It’s a reminder that the funeral hasn't happened yet. You are still breathing. The static is still there, humming under your skin, waiting for you to tune back in.
Moving Forward After the Glow
This film isn't meant to be "enjoyed" in the traditional sense. It’s meant to be felt. It’s a heavy, gorgeous, devastating piece of art that demands you take it personally.
If you find yourself thinking about Owen’s scream in the entertainment center, or the way Maddy looked at the moon, don't ignore it. That’s the glow.
Check out the A24 shop or local independent cinemas for screenings, as this is a movie that truly deserves the theater experience. The scale of the screen makes the "Midnight Realm" feel even more claustrophobic and the TV glow even more expansive.
Practical Next Steps for the Touched:
- Journal on the "Gray": Write down three things in your life that feel like they belong to the "Midnight Realm"—tasks or roles you perform solely because you feel you have to.
- Reconnect with your "Pink Opaque": Find a piece of media, art, or a memory from your youth that made you feel like "you." Don't analyze it; just sit with it.
- Listen to the Soundtrack: Play the I Saw the TV Glow OST (specifically "Starburned and Unkissed" by Caroline Polachek) and pay attention to how your body reacts to the distortion.
- Watch Schoenbrun’s Previous Work: To understand the evolution of this message, watch We're All Going to the World's Fair. It deals with similar themes of digital isolation and identity.
There is still time. Use it.