Throughout my childhood, I was plagued by a recurring nightmare in which I found myself in the local shopping centre, where I spent many weekends of my life. However, instead of venturing into the usual stores that I would frequent, I found myself walking through one of those mysterious black doors used only by employees. Upon reaching the other side, I would find myself trapped in a labyrinth, venturing deeper into the skeletal system of this place, seemingly becoming entirely lost in a series of passageways that simply would not end until I woke up. As I grew older, I realised that this is not a unique dream, and that many people have found themselves terrorised by similar images. Over time, we’ve seen some fascinating research done into the concept of liminal spaces, those places that seem familiar, instilling in us a sense of recognition that is both comforting and unsettling in equal measure. This is where we get the concept of the “Backrooms”, a series of horror-adjacent stories that have sprung up around the internet at an alarming rate, creating a kind of contemporary mythology shared amongst thousands of users, each one adding onto it in an effort to create one of the first truly collective works of horror fiction, and certainly one of the most successful.

Some of the most vital entries were constructed by Kane Parsons, who spent years carefully curating the story into a webseries, which was strong enough to lead to a feature film adaptation (which also function as his debut), coming in the form of Backrooms, which attempts to condense this sprawling, multipronged narrative into something cohesive, filtering thousands of ideas into a single story, in this case that of a psychiatrist seeking out her client, who has seemingly gotten lost in the titular liminal space, which harbours many sinister secrets. It’s a fascinating film, and one that has quite appropriately been immediately celebrated as a singular work that acts as the announcement of an exciting new voice in contemporary horror, and one that will contribute immensely to this canon of recent films that are gradually redefining the genre as a whole.

There has been some discourse across social media about the ethics of this film being made – Parsons has been open about the fact that he was not the person who originated the idea of the Backrooms, but rather someone who took inspiration from the original idea, developing it into his own series that subsequently overtook (but very importantly did not eclipse) the original works. It’s not necessary to get into a debate about authorship and who the most appropriate person to make this film would’ve been, since this actually reflects something much more common, which is the fact that many of the most cherished works of horror from across history have their roots in formats that exist long before any formal standardisation of these stories. This highlights one of the most fascinating concepts that emerges from the film, which is the idea of collective horror – not only in how Backrooms is inspired by years of intricate work done by a global community to create this sprawling mythos, but also in how it is the result of each one of us asserting our own perspective onto something so simple, yet entirely universal.

The impact of Backrooms comes in how it touches on a raw nerve, playing into the inherent anxiety we all feel when confronted with something we vaguely recognise, but still feel uneasy about, since it feels off-kilter and slightly unnatural. It’s often been compared to the concept of the uncanny valley, in which we encounter entities that look realistic but are marginally different in a way that is small enough not to be grotesque, but also still unnatural enough to be disconcerting. Backrooms explores this concept extensively without ever trying to provide any real explanation, which is incredibly smart considering even the most dedicated of researchers still can’t determine the roots of the uncanny valley – some consider it an evolutionary trait, others a psychological remnant of a bygone era. In both regards, Backrooms expands on these feelings onto a much larger visual palette, telling a story in which it’s not the figures that inspire the unease, but rather their surroundings, which play into something much deeper and more unsettling, being both brilliant and disconcerting.

However, as we’ve come to learn, horror is rarely just about scaring viewers for the sake of it, and instead tends to have layers that reflect much deeper and more profound messages, many of which may seem slightly obvious once we understand where a film is heading. To be clear, Parsons is still very young, and therefore he is only equipped with a finite amount of wisdom when it comes to certain themes, so those expecting a film that is going to be the most philosophically-profound and provocative are not going to be entirely satisfied with Backrooms, which is most definitely a film that emerged from a more rambunctious young voice, rather than a seasoned veteran. Yet, there are some incredibly astute and frankly unsettling points of discussion in this film that suggest an unexpected maturity behind this film, which interrogates the human mind as something not even the most dedicated of researchers, whether those in science or philosophy, have ever been able to fathom.

Through the use of a labyrinth that is freely accessible to anyone desperate enough to enter – granted that they need to find themselves in a specific spot at the right moment – but where escape becomes increasingly more difficult once you allow yourself to wander further, and where the exit becomes much less easy to find than it was at the beginning. It doesn’t take long for us to realise that Backrooms is a film that uses the unsettling liminal space as a metaphor for the human mind, a labyrinthine entity that we are still trying to comprehend, but have yet to actually even scratch the surface, the mysteries contained within being both enthralling and entirely ambiguous. Through this, Parsons can look at themes such as mental health, identity and the existential dread that befalls many of us, which seems like a tall order for someone so young – but he rises to the occasion, using this film as a platform to investigate these ideas with a sincerity and genuine curiosity which suggests that he is not just someone trying to unsettle for the sake of getting a reaction, but instead genuinely wants to make a statement, showing the rich layers of complexity lurking beneath the surface of a profoundly unsettling and frankly quite difficult film.

I’ve always had a fondness for notable actors who are willing to take the risk with a first-time director, especially when it comes to something as strange and abstract as this film. At a glance, a very young filmmaker  (who was still a teenager at the time in which this film went into production) without any prior experience other than online content, crafting an aloof and abstract psychological horror that falls outside all conventional narrative structures, is quite an intimidating request for any actor, but yet we find Chiwetel Ejiofor and Renate Reinsve (both immensely successful actors in their own right, and who have exceptional careers under their belts already) are more than willing to take a leap of faith. The nature of Backrooms is that it is not naturally conducive to an actor delivering career-best work, but it still requires a very particular kind of dedication that both leads are more than willing to deliver. This is a film about the human mind, and to properly represent what he hopes will be a thorough examination of the inner architecture of the human mind, Parsons has to work with his actors to find the balance between what we are explicitly seen and told, and what is left to our interpretation.

Both protagonists are complex individuals, and while we do get to know them relatively well over the course of the film, it’s not an immediate process. Instead, it’s done gradually and with a lot of effort by two actors who unlock fascinating depths within themselves, turning in very strong performances. Of the two, Ejiofor stands out most, playing a man who is teetering dangerously close to complete collapse, but who finds himself realising that the world is too hostile, which coincides with his entry into the titular space, which goes from a nightmarish hellscape to his sanctuary, the place where he can live the life he believed he deserved. Reinsve is not far behind – most of the film requires her to play this stoic, reasonable individual who is thrust into the past when she is forced to recall the memories that she has long suppressed, confronted by the reality of a past that she would prefer remain hidden. Backrooms makes exceptional use of all of its actors (including Finn Bennett, Lukita Maxwell and Mark Duplass in smaller roles), weaving them into the narrative in a way that gives the film additional definition and allows it to be far more nuanced than we would expect at first when looking at its premise and the anticipated characterisation of its core ideas.

Much of the credit for the ideas that guide Backrooms forward should be given to Will Soodik, who was hired to write the screenplay, alleviating Parsons from being solely responsible for both the concept and execution of the film. The writing is simple but effective, and ultimately functions to serve the visual and tonal elements, which are the main attraction here. Previous works that explore the Backrooms were almost entirely driven by the atmosphere and visual components, which is therefore very important to get right when turning it into a feature film. The process of how Parsons both created the original web series (building much of it using freely accessible animation technology) is extremely fascinating, and while he clearly had access to monumentally more resources, he made sure not to forget the origins of this story and the reasons it was so effective in the first place. Backrooms has some of the finest production design of the past few years, with the creation of these locations being exceptional – the seamlessness of the practical effects and computer-generated imagery is staggering, to the point where we are genuinely unable to see where one ends and the other begins, a very precise detail that only further draws us into the world of this film.

The use of colour (as well as the lack of it in some parts) is memorable, and some extraordinary visual compositions come about through the director collaborating closely with Jeremy Cox, whose cinematography evokes so much with very little, communicating certain messages through simply how it captures a particular angle or draws our attention to some small but vital detail. Then, tying everything together, we have a film that feels genuinely invigorating in terms of its tone – it’s difficult to compare Backrooms to any existing work, since it feels so wholeheartedly original, but it was evidently inspired by a number of other artists. The obvious comparison (albeit the laziest) would be David Lynch, whose work contained a very similar sense of the uncanny and surreal. However, there’s also heavy overtures of Franz Kafka and Ingmar Bergman (and even slight hints of films such as Last Year at Marienbad and The Holy Mountain, even if they’re quite faint) which indicate that Backrooms is as much indebted to the works that came before as it is going to be important for the future of horror cinema, being exceptionally well-crafted and cognisant of the importance of atmosphere as an artistic and discursive tool, something that is very often overlooked when it comes to creating memorable works of horror. 

While we are always seeing exceptionally ambitious works of horror produced annually, we most certainly are in a renaissance for auteur-driven horror. The reasons for this are always up for debate, but the simplest explanation, and indeed the one that I’d posit is the most accurate, is that it’s the result of two specific developments: audiences crave more from their horror, and more audacious filmmakers are being welcomed into the industry through having access to more resources, allowing them to develop their vision. Watching Backrooms feels like witnessing the birth of some exciting new horror auteur, and while Parsons is still very young and hopefully has a long career ahead of him, he does seem to have the skill needed to avoid merely being a one-trick pony, having the strong directorial vision needed to truly succeed in this industry. He’s already developed a couple of additional webseries that prove that he’s not someone prone to resting on his laurels, and the firm foundation he’s built, combined with the critical and commercial success that emerges from Backrooms, makes me confident that he’s here to stay, and we’ll be anxiously awaiting his next project, which we can only hope will match this film on both a conceptual and artistic level.

However, even without prognosticating about where his career will land, and instead just focusing on the topic at hand, Backrooms is a tremendous film – it’s not without its flaws, since there are some narrative shortcomings (many of which are concealed under the layers of what appear to be intentional ambiguity, even if this is really just a smart way to cover up any loose ends), and it is more focused on the experience more than the conversations that occur afterwards – but there is so much ambition on display throughout this film that we cannot help but admire it. Considering he was mentored by several notable figures in the industry (including co-producers like Osgood Perkins and James Wan, both stalwarts of the horror genre who use their wisdom and connections to help shepherd this film forward and realise Parson’s vision), and has immediately caught the attention of audiences, critics and the industry at large, it is difficult to not see Backrooms as a complete success, the rare kind of elevated horror that actually has something to say, and which goes to extraordinary lengths to not only catch our attention, but maintain it entirely. It feels like a watershed moment for the genre, and we can only hope that this is a promising sign for all that is to come, for both Parsons as a director and the horror industry as a whole, which has benefitted tremendously from this renewed interest in giving a platform to exciting new voices.