Backrooms (2026) Review

Kane Parsons’ feature debut is one of the more interesting and original horror films to emerge in the last decade, marking a notable transition from his YouTube origins into mainstream features. Set in the 1990s, when cubicles began to embody the claustrophobic atmosphere of office spaces, it follows a down-and-out furniture salesman who finds a door to an alternate dimension hidden in the corner of his workplace, setting a series of events in motion that no one could prepare for. With some of the most interesting set design this year and a fantastic cast of actors, this is a successful experiment in atmosphere and tension; but its formal strengths ultimately clash with a thematic resolution that shifts away from systemic critique, toward an individualized blame.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HjdiohVOik

As I said, the look of this film is incredible. Parsons is definitely channeling the soulless corporate look many workplaces had in this era, and by slightly tweaking those elements in the titular backrooms (the harsh white of overhead fluorescents becomes a stark yellow, the furniture seems to be melting into the ground and random billboards are sticking out of the walls), there’s an invocation of Freud’s uncanny where things are similar to ‘our world,’ but just different enough to let us know something’s wrong. These design choices don’t just create unease: they suggest a space shaped by labor and material conditions, which is why the later psychological framing feels like a conceptual narrowing instead of an expansion. A lot of the tension comes from shaky handheld camera work and uncanny set design. The visual language oscillates between a modern digital clarity and a grainy, almost VHS-like texture that adds texture and tension. Because resolution on this style of camera isn’t great, shadows become potential threats, and we’re never sure what’s around the corner or even right in front of us. It’s a great setup for a space in which the cast can act their hearts out, and they absolutely do.

There’s no doubt about it, Renate Reinsve is one of the best actresses working today. There’s something about her always subdued line delivery that makes her characters feel so lived-in and three dimensional. Chiwetel Ejiofor does great as Clark, the salesman who discovers the backrooms. Ejiofor’s performance is most effective when Clark’s deterioration reads less like a personal breakdown and more like the stress response of someone crushed beneath the expectations of societal and domestic roles. It was also great to see Lukita Maxwell finally get a chance to flex her acting chops in a feature film, and she doesn’t disappoint as Clark’s worried employee. Together, these actors are able to insert a ton of drama and tension in a horror film mostly set around the suspense sometimes experienced in liminal spaces, even if their characters are strangely written.

Clark’s perspective is our main entry point to the story, and his characterization initially invites a systemic reading of psychological collapse under capitalism. After his therapist coaxes him into a role-playing game, we learn his drinking stems from a general dissatisfaction with his job mixed with a gendered expectation to be the provider of his house while his wife finishes law school. He asks “You want kids? That takes money. You want this house? Someone has to pay for that.” His resentment reads less as individual pathology and more as a response to economic and domestic roles imposed on him; but after his character has a breakdown thanks to what he saw in the rooms, he kidnaps his therapist who then berates him, saying his failings are due to his shortcomings on an individual level instead of the systemic, societal causes hinted at throughout the rest of the movie. This is where the story abandons earlier systemic framings, collapsing systemic pressures into mere matters of individual responsibility.

 The human psyche is described as a building with many rooms, and as we go through life that building acquires more walls and rooms once we begin to compartmentalize to survive, making the alternate dimension a clear stand-in for collective loneliness under capitalism. Those expectations increase as we continue to see a shadowy government entity lurking just offscreen, observing everything. These elements collectively point toward a systemic reading of the backrooms as a spatial model of compartmentalized consciousness under what was (especially in the 90s) an increasingly globalized economic life, but that framework is not sustained through the third act’s resolution.

Despite its inconsistencies, this film succeeds at creating an atmospheric and visual experience, but it generates more conceptual weight than it can ultimately support. Its strongest material lies in its spatial design and performances, even if those performances feel undercut by the thematic resolution. People talk a lot about wanting more original movies, and while there are certain scenes here we’ve all seen before (character revelations during a therapy scene etc.), it’s still a really uniquely-executed premise that deserves to be seen on the big screen. Backrooms is in theaters now, and it’s scary enough to warrant a watch!