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There is something undeniably stylish about I Saw the TV Glow and the way it immerses you in a strange late-night mood that never quite lets you look away. The film wants to be poetic, eerie, and emotionally sensitive all at once, and on some level, that intention shows through the visuals and the performances. But good intentions do not always add up to good representation, especially when so much of the experience is couched in vague metaphors and disconnected sequences. What starts as a promising dive into identity soon feels like a mood piece that forgot to offer much insight.
Where this film spends most of its time is inside atmosphere rather than actual emotional reality, and that makes it feel distant from the very people it tries to represent. You come away more puzzled than moved, wondering if the story is about television nostalgia, subconscious longing, or identity in some abstract dreamscape. Artful ambiguity can be powerful, but here it becomes a barrier that keeps the audience from clearly understanding what it wants to say. I Saw the TV Glow feels like it is glowing with possibility, and yet somehow it never quite lights up the parts that matter.
When Metaphor Becomes A Wall Instead Of A Window
One of the trickiest things about this movie is that nearly every idea is shown through another idea. The trans experience is filtered through television screens, memories, dreams, and moments that feel half-formed. That kind of layering can be effective when it deepens our understanding, but here it often feels like watching someone suggest feelings without ever naming them. The result is an emotional density that can leave you impressed by the craftsmanship but unsure of what you just watched.
The film treats identity itself as if it were behind a veil that must be decoded by the viewer. That choice turns personal experience into a puzzle that never quite clicks into place. Real-world trans experiences are nuanced and individual, and they do not require riddles to feel true. Ambiguous storytelling can be powerful, but it should guide rather than hide the truth.
Pain Is Present But Poorly Anchored
There is no shortage of unease in this movie; characters move through moments that hint at sadness, fear, and confusion. The way the camera lingers, and the score pulse suggest emotional weight that wants to be felt. But the source of that weight remains vague and abstract for much of the runtime, and that vagueness weakens the impact. You sense emotion but never fully understand why you are meant to care about it.
Trans stories often involve real challenges rooted in daily life and personal history, yet the film rarely gives us concrete moments to latch onto. Without that grounding, even powerful feelings can feel hollow. The movie can make you feel wistful or uneasy, but it does not always help you understand the character behind those feelings. That makes the experience more murky than enlightening.
Nostalgia Steals The Spotlight Too Often
A big part of the movie’s visual and emotional palette is nostalgia, especially nostalgia tied to childhood memories and vintage television. It creates a dreamy glow that feels like a warm blanket on a cold night at first. But over time, that glow begins to feel like a distraction. The focus drifts toward longing for the past rather than exploring the concrete lived experience of becoming yourself in the present.
Nostalgia can be meaningful when it deepens emotional context, but in this case, it often overshadows the character’s inner life. Identity and longing are different things, and the film starts to blur the line between them in a way that leaves both feeling vague. Trans experiences are about growth, change, and self-actualization as much as they are about memory or longing. When the lens is pointed backward too often, it robs the story of forward momentum.
Silence Is Treated Like Depth
Cinematic silence can be powerful, especially when it lets emotions breathe. The quiet moments in this movie often feel like pauses meant to invite deep reflection. Instead, they sometimes feel like avoidance. When the film repeatedly opts for silence over dialogue or specificity, it creates distance instead of connection.
Trans stories gain resonance when they speak with clarity about experience, not simply around it. Simply observing something does not make it profound if it leaves the audience unsure what they observed. Silence should support feeling, not replace explanation. Too much quiet without enough substance leaves the viewer adrift.
Why The Film Still Resonates For Some Audiences
Despite these flaws, I Saw the TV Glow still resonates with many viewers, especially those drawn to mood-driven storytelling and open-ended interpretation. The loneliness and uncertainty portrayed on screen do feel real in a certain way, and that emotional texture can linger after the credits roll. Some people will see their own introspection reflected in the blur and glow, and that is valuable in its own right.
But feeling and understanding are not the same thing. Representation matters most when it illuminates experience rather than obscures it. And while the film reaches for something honest, it sometimes hides its meaning behind artistry instead of revealing it. It’s like watching emotion through frosted glass.
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