Space plays an interesting role in Kane Parsons’ visually arresting film Backrooms. It captures the sense of insignificance that one can feel in a world where life has driven you down a road you never envisioned yourself travelling. The ways one’s trauma, that may span a substantial portion of a person’s existence, can be encapsulated in one small artifact. It also captures the vastness of ideas that are never fully realized.
Similar to the individuals who find themselves navigating the endless yellow wallpapered rooms the film’s title refers to, one is constantly searching to understand what it all means.
As if pulling apart the layers of a beautiful Russian nesting doll for the first time, Parsons’ film reveals itself to be hollow to the uninitiated. Unlike Nirvanna the Band the Movie the Show, another indie darling that sailed into theatres on a wave of hype from its loyal fan base, which plays exceptionally well even if you haven’t seen the show it is based on, Backrooms is a work where it benefits the viewer to familiarize themselves with the source material.
It not only provides context for what the film is striving for, but also highlights what the film is sorely lacking.
Parsons’ film is an adaption of the YouTube web series he created by through Blender when he was only 16-years-old. The unnerving tone of the short films in the series successfully established a sense of world building, even if his approach borrowed heavily from Lost and other sci-fi works, and the showcased director’s gift for visual storytelling.
While the latter is still present, as one can spend hours admiring the numerous details woven into the production design, the vibrant images cannot distract from the shaky script that frames it all. Co-written by Parsons and Will Soodik, Backrooms’ narrative never matches the thought-provoking complexity of its visual aesthetics.
Characters may wander the cavernous rooms discovering the nuances of the environment on their own, but the script holds viewer’s hands every step of the way. A fact that especially noticeable when observing the arcs of Backrooms’ two central characters. Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is a failed architect who has been reduced to making cheesy television ads to promote the furniture store he owns. Miserable, and unsure of why the lights at his store keep going on and off at odd times, the audience learns that his wife has kicked him out of their home, due to his alcoholism, via his weekly session with his therapist Mary (Renate Reinsve).
Believing that Clark is not being accountable for his part in the demise of the marriage, Mary has her own personal baggage that she seems reluctant to confront. As her childhood home is demolished to make room for a new condo, Mary cannot shake the memories of her mother’s descent into mental illness. Only left with a stone rendering of her handprint as a child, Mary seems to move through the world, despite having a popular self-help tape series that is sold on TV, as if locked on autopilot.
As Clark and Mary each find themselves in the mysterious backrooms that can only be accessed through a false wall in the furniture store, Parsons’ film uses their fragile emotional states to fuel the tension and horror. This works swimmingly at first as the characters plunge themselves into the strange new environment where danger can literally be lurking around each corner.
Unfortunately, a corner is exactly what the film’s script backs itself into. For all the eerie and exciting sense of discovery that the rooms provide, it slowly becomes evident that there is little to sustain the atmosphere Parsons creates. Rather than letting the characters and the audience sit in the uncomfortableness, Backrooms hits the viewer over the head with its symbolism. Characters frequently verbalize their thoughts but the film rarely delves deep into the issues they are wrestling with.
Parsons has clearly shown growth as a filmmaker since his short film days, as one sees in his choice to limit the VHS found footage feel to a few key scenes, and no doubt has a bright future ahead of him. However, without a truly compelling characters to anchor the film, Backrooms merely floats on vibes.
At the Toronto premiere of Backrooms, Parsons mentioned that he decided to place the film in the 1990s because that was a time of unchecked industrialism. A time when office spaces became a part of Silicon Valley’s system of economic growth. In his eyes, that period of brief optimism was the diving board that society collectively jumped from before hitting the gray waters of pessimism in the 2000s. All of this played a part in fractured state we all find ourselves in today.
This industrial paranoia does not actually translate to the film though. The fear of the unknown and people’s reluctance to change, are touched on, but none of these ideas fully explored. Instead, Backrooms gets lost in the fog of its own mystique.
Although the cast does a good job with the material they are given, it is not enough to keep Backrooms in one’s mind for long. Parsons shows much promise as a filmmaker, but he still needs to work on constructing scripts that feel like a hearty meal and not a nice looking, but unfulfilling, snack.
