As much as we’d like to think cinema exists primarily to entertain or enlighten the viewer, some films are designed to deliberately make us uncomfortable. Whether this is to discuss some vitally important issue, or reflect some concepts that could not be conveyed through more gentle means, we all encounter examples of intentionally disturbing artworks that provoke and unsettle in equal measure. They’re not always pleasant, but they feel essential in their own way, and can often be remarkable works all on their own, granted the viewer is aware of what to anticipate. A recent example of the phenomenon of purposefully disturbing cinema comes in the form of We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, the directorial debut of Jane Schoenbrun, who immediately establishes themself as a major voice in contemporary cinema, crafting a fascinating independent film that takes us on a terrifying journey into the heart of the younger generation, looking at those people who spend most of their lives online, detached from the outside world to the point where it seems like a macabre wasteland. One of the more disquieting horror films produced recently (and coming in a banner year for exceptional entries into the genre), We’re All Going to the World’s Fair is a riveting but deeply haunting look into the lives of those who find joy in the solitude, relishing in the opportunity t escape from reality for a short amount of time, and sometimes becoming lost in the endless possibilities of the virtual world, which this film demonstrates as being far more perilous than many of us imagine, especially when we look at the many compelling but unsettling themes that Schoenbrun uses as the foundation for the story, and their efforts in developing them beyond the mere conceptual stage, turning these themes into the foundation for one of the year’s most uncomfortable but profoundly moving endeavours.

The idea of a film that takes a harsh stance against the internet seems hopelessly outdated, especially since the fears of the dangers lurking in the online world have subsided as we have become more accustomed to the global community that binds us together. Ultimately, anything that wants to critique the internet as one homogenous entity of malice is not particularly relevant, since we are all likely cognisant of the perils that come with being chronically online, and can hopefully exercise some caution when making use of this revolutionary technology. We’re All Going to the World’s Fair is a film that has a very peculiar relationship with internet culture – it is simultaneously a celebration of the connected world and a cautionary tale of the dark side that can envelop those that are not careful. Schoenbrun has a very unique approach to commenting on these subjects, and uses their own knowledge as someone that came of age when the world was growing more comfortable with social media and the fact that we can be connected in a way that was never possible before. However, they are also incredibly hesitant to show its merits, since the story lends itself to a more bleak depiction of how it can take over one’s life, to the point where you can lose yourself entirely without some caution, which is the central theme of the film. Schoenbrun is not interested in turning We’re All Going to the World’s Fair into some Luddite manifesto that impels us to disconnect with immediate effect or face the sinister consequences, but rather uses some darker subject matter to create a deep and unsettling exploration of online culture, showcasing the anonymity that comes with being a part of the online world, proving that you can be anyone you desire, and the perils that come when the temptation to redefine yourself impacts one’s personal life, and how challenging it can be to return from such a scenario.

We’re All Going to the World’s Fair is an extraordinarily simple film, and functions as essentially a story told from a single perspective, focusing on a teenage girl who grows disillusioned with life in her snow-capped Midwestern town, and where her only solace is logging into a plethora of websites, where she is able to redefine herself and be the person she aspires to be, even if it is only an idealistic image of herself. The film contains a tour-de-force performance by Anna Cobb, who makes her feature-length debut with this character (who we know as “Casey”, which the ending suggests could simply be another construction on behalf of our young protagonist), going on this journey with the director, who plumbs every emotional recess of the character in favour of bringing the film together through her perspective. Cobb commits entirely to this role – the prompts she was given by Schoenbrun are clearly challenging and unconventional, but she rises to the occasion, turning in a performance that feels like it is coming from a seasoned veteran. A film like We’re All Going to the World’s Fair hinges almost entirely on the impact being made by the character and our belief that we are witnessing their journey, not merely a construction on the part of the filmmakers – and the intimate, complex development of this character creates a scenario where we are fully enraptured in this world, all through the fervent dedication that came through in the collision between the director and her actor, a perfect collaboration that brings out the darker side of the subject matter without needing to resort to conventions, which we’d have most likely have come across in a less-effective work that didn’t know how to conduct these conversations. We’re All Going to the World’s Fair is very much an example of taking several calculated risks, and Cobb’s performance alone was an enormous gambit, but she successfully creates a character that serves as our entry point into this world, our avatar for exploring the bleak realities faced by people like Casey, who depend on the virtual world to understand their identity and make sense of the chaos lurking just out of view.

Perhaps the element of We’re All Going to the World’s Fair that stands out the most is that this is not a film solely about the dangers of the internet (especially since the director’s feelings about that particular subject are not important to the overall film, and Schoenbrun takes a more objective approach to critiquing online culture), more than it is a story about loneliness. There’s something very comforting about the online world – as we’ve said, you can essentially be anyone, crafting entire identities for yourself based on your idealistic version of the person you’d aspire to be. There’s something profoundly sad about this, and it is the reason behind social media being such a toxic component of everyday life, since the temptation to construct a new persona or presenting yourself in a slightly inauthentic way can be too immense and cause a great deal of harm to those who don’t understand the perils associated with this endeavour. This film orbits around looking at a young woman as she grows up, detached from reality (we never see her interact with another person in the real world throughout the entire film, her only friend being a faceless voice on the other side of her computer), but somehow gaining a sense of belonging through the kind of structured anonymity, where she can be whoever she wants to be without any ramifications or allegations of being disingenuous. The film may be structured as a deeply unsettling horror film, but the most terrifying aspects come in Schoenbrun’s active efforts to dismantle our perception of reality through showing Casey’s descent into what appears to be madness – and we never know if it is an act, or if she has truly succumbed to the pressures of modern life, the film blurring reality and fiction in increasingly disturbing ways, which all amount to this harrowing but poignant glimpse into the daily activities of a profoundly lonely young woman.

For many, the very concept of We’re All Going to the World’s Fair will be enough to keep them at a distance. Independent horror contains an entirely different kind of terror, one that is not reliant on jump-scares or cheap effects that give us a moment of shock before moving on, and instead depends on a more sinister kind of approach. These films are borne from our inherent fears, drawn from the paranoia we feel about everyday life – and while it doesn’t deal with the paranormal in the traditional sense, there’s a sense of foreboding danger that pulsates throughout this film and makes it such a profoundly disturbing experience, especially considering it is touching on themes as universal at the impact social media has on our everyday life. However, in this more bleak sense of terror, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair also manages to be extraordinarily emotional, having a resonance that not many other horror films have been able to demonstrate. There’s a delicate and intimate approach to looking at deeply human themes, such as the journey to adulthood, and the experiences of occupying a body that doesn’t feel like it matches your identity. This is a film that is clearly very personal to the director, with the film reflecting issues relating to their identity, especially as someone born at a very specific time in modern culture, where the online world is gradually taking over and becoming much more significant in our daily lives than ever before. The film is a disquieting but poetic journey into the psychology of a lonely character seeking acceptance and a sense of belonging, only to unearth some darker secrets that she knew existed, but never imagined would become part of her life – and the result is a powerful, heartbreaking glimpse into the current generation and their perpetual sense of happiness in a world that is growing so artificial, to the point where the ideal versions of ourselves we create online are actually somehow more accurate representations of our identity than anything concrete, which is a provocative idea that is so effectively explored throughout this stunning and thought-provoking leap into the epicentre of contemporary culture and its severe but unavoidable effects on the current generation and their search for happiness.