Backrooms (2026) Review

A liminal space is a strange, disquieting place- eerily distorted, uncannily familiar; just plain wrong. Few creations have weaponised that feeling as effectively as the Backrooms phenomenon- a piece of internet horror fiction built around the idea of an endless, maze-like area one can accidentally “fall into,” a parallel reality made up of empty, repeating rooms. What began as a single image posted online evolved into a vast mythology centred on an endless maze of yellow walls, stained carpets and flickering fluorescent lights. From video games to viral web series, the concept has seeped into every dark corner of the internet.

One of the most widely recognised interpretations came from Kane Parsons, whose Backrooms series on YouTube brought the idea into a more cinematic, found-footage form that quickly gained massive attention online. That momentum has now carried the project into feature film territory, with Parsons’ debut, ‘Backrooms’, marking its leap from internet folklore to the silver screen.

‘Backrooms’ centres on Clark, a furniture store owner, and his therapist Mary. On the discovery of a strange portal in the basement of his shop, Clark is led into an impossible, seemingly endless expanse of empty, dimensionally-odd rooms. The further he goes, the stranger it gets- and the feeling that something else is present becomes impossible to ignore. Will Clark ever see daylight again, and can Mary find answers in a place where reality itself seems to bend?

Much like Genki Kawamura’s recent ‘Exit 8,’ ‘Backrooms’ is a visually stunning, intensely atmospheric film. Both are steeped in a sinister stillness, by their nature repetitive and set in surreal, isolated locations. However, whereas Kawamura’s film had characters of subtle substance who undergo emotional arcs, and a strong, if simple, narrative, Parsons’ doesn’t. Initially intriguing, his narrative is slim. While one wants to see what is around the next eerily-lit corner, or down the next liminal corridor, and find out just what it all means, one will be disappointed.

The film rather quickly boils down to a succession of scenes involving characters moving cautiously through hallways, with little progression beyond the maintenance of mood. The third act is particularly weak in this regard, and the ending is abrupt. Further, his dialogue is stilted and characterisation one-note. Although Parsons includes a tragic backstory for Mary, it is not explored in detail, nor is its relevance ever made clear. Similarly, Clark’s past transgressions are little more than miniscule droplets of colour in a ghoulish kingdom of beige- they don’t have much impact on the overall canvas.

In short, Clark and Mary function more as archetypes than fully developed figures, lacking any meaningful internal complexity. This becomes even more pronounced midway through the film, when Clark appears to shift abruptly into a markedly different version of himself, with little narrative grounding for the change. In addition, nothing is ever explained- what the backrooms are, whether or not Clark created them subconsciously, how much time has gone by; just what in the sweet hell the creatures who dwell there are.

Perhaps Parsons meant to keep the audience guessing, or its all explained in his YouTube series. That doesn’t really cut it, though. In this case, abstraction leads to frustration, and the film is a stand-alone feature, meaning one shouldn’t have to do homework to enjoy it. Indeed, by the third act, there is an overwhelming sense of stagnation- suggesting that Parsons didn't fully understand how to expand his series into a single full-length feature. On the other hand, the mere fact that the narrative keeps one thinking after the credits roll suggests it may be more engaging than it appears at face value.

It really is a feast for the eyes, clearly inspired by Stanley Kubrick and, especially, David Lynch. The Backrooms are a creepy, dreamlike void, populated by lamp-flicking dwarves and grotesque creatures as from a half-remembered nightmare. Jeremy Fox’s cinematography renders its endless corridors in a way that is both sterile and strangely hypnotic. Merging first-person POV sequences with 1990s-style found-footage aesthetics and more conventional framing, Fox creates a shifting visual language that oscillates between immersion and observation, reinforcing the instability of the space itself.

Danny Vermette’s production design is equally crucial to the film’s impact, meticulously constructing the Backrooms as a physically coherent yet deeply unsettling environment- as if M.C Escher and Albert Speer had an architectural baby. The repetition of identical textures, sickly lighting and indistinct structural variation gives the space a tactile sense of realism, even as it remains fundamentally unreal- which the set design and decoration compounds.

Sound design plays a crucial role in sustaining the tone. A persistent low hum of electrical interference runs beneath much of the film, punctuated by the sterile buzz of fluorescent lighting and occasional, dislocated audio cues seeming to originate from nowhere in particular. The effect is deliberately unsettling, reinforcing the idea that the space is never truly empty or still, even when nothing is visibly happening.

Rather than relying on a conventional musical score, Parsons leans heavily on ambient sound to generate tension. At its best, this creates a constant, low-level unease; at its weakest, it risks blending into the same monotony affecting the narrative structure. Greg Ng’s editing also occasionally works against the material. Extended, slow-moving sequences are clearly intended to build tension, but too often they outstay their effectiveness, reinforcing the film’s underlying sense of stasis rather than escalating it.

Parsons has assembled a game cast, who all perform well, though aren’t given much of a challenge. Chiwetel Ejiofor does fine work as Clark, ably portraying the character’s obsessive, darker tendencies, somewhat elevating the character. Renate Reinsve also delivers a restrained performance as Mary, though the role is less developed than in some of her previous work, leaving her somewhat constrained by the material. Mark Duplass turns up for all-too-short a time, making a strong impression- underscoring the sense of talent deployed in service of a largely underwritten narrative.

In an episode of ‘It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”, Dennis is describing a film, which “goes on and on, and back and forth for 90 or so minutes until the movie just sort of ends.” Unfortunately, this sums up Kane Parsons’ ‘Backrooms’: it’s repetitive, ultimately goes nowhere and takes a while to get there. However, it is visually stunning, with a genuinely creepy atmosphere and strong performances. It may not be perfect, but as a debut for a young director, it’s quite incredible. In short, while its narrative doesn’t go the distance, ‘Backrooms’ puts up a strong front.