Parsons Brings it Back in Backrooms (2026)

Few horror concepts are as malleable as the Backrooms, a fan-made universe that grew from a single grainy image posted online in 2002. This image of a liminal, empty yellow office space became popular because it created unease without a clear source. With no story, no explanation, and no context other than the one wildly popular photograph, online communities transformed this simple idea into an enormous collaborative project, adding hundreds of levels, creatures, and rules to a space that was defined by a lack of them. One of the most prominent Backrooms creators, Kane Parsons, used that same simplicity in his earlier YouTube interpretations of the Backrooms, using short, found-footage clips strung into a series to consolidate the idea. Therefore, when directing Backrooms (2026), Parsons was faced with a choice: adapt the sprawling mythology that made the movie so anticipated in the first place, or return to the stripped-down concept that he created on YouTube. By focusing on atmosphere over exposition and confusion rather than explanation, the film captures the unsettling simplicity of the original Backrooms, even if in doing so, it disappoints viewers expecting a more conventional horror story.

Seeing as this film was produced by A24 and is rated R, the story could have gone many ways. A24, a popular entertainment company, has established itself as a massive cultural brand. It is known for letting visionary directors and “elevated” genre films flourish on their own. The vibe differs from film to film; however, a common blend of psychological depth and unsettling strangeness bleeds through each and every one. In Parsons’ case, he was given the time and resources to execute his distinct, highly stylized version of the Backrooms. During early filming processes and after the announcement of the film’s production, many people didn’t believe in the young director’s capability and thought older and more experienced people would take over the set. However, Parsons was able to manage with only the minimal experience that he had. Experienced actors like Mark Duplass, who were brought on to help Parsons, found that “he doesn’t need anything, he’s really, really smart, and he knows this world backwards and forwards.” The leadership role that Parsons took on enabled him to make the film his and his alone. With this, he remained true to the original idea of the Backrooms instead of submitting to the popular conversation that dominated it in recent years. Although labeled as a horror movie, it follows more of a surrealist approach, showcasing, through cinematography, the dreamlike state of the Backrooms.

The film follows Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a divorced and unsatisfied furniture store owner, as he discovers a strange spatial anomaly known as the Backrooms while working on a fuse box in the store’s basement. After entering the space himself, he becomes increasingly fixated on documenting and mapping its layout, returning multiple times and venturing deeper and deeper despite his initial fear. His therapist, Mary (Renate Reinsve), initially calls his behavior delusional, but eventually investigates after Clark is killed and reported missing inside. Once there, both characters are forced to navigate an environment that does not obey the rules of time and space, dealing with still-lifes (reflections of past Backrooms visitors), and a monstrous entity who appears to be a manifestation of the dead Clark himself.

Neither Clark nor Mary fit a traditional character arc. Clark begins as a stagnant furniture store owner, but once he discovers the Backrooms, his need to understand and control the space quickly develops into an obsession. As he ventures deeper, his behavior becomes erratic, especially in his interactions with his assistant, Kat, and her boyfriend, Bobby, whom he brings into the Backrooms. Mary acts as a foil to Clark throughout much of the film. As a psychologist, she is presented as more rational, initially approaching his claims with skepticism and treating his fixations as something that can be logically explained. However, when she enters the Backrooms, her confidence gives way to fear and the inability to act in dangerous situations, eventually leading to her capture. While both characters do change, Parsons deliberately keeps their personal lives, motivations, and a traditional, cathartic character arc in the background, using them only to drive home the psychological effects of the Backrooms. 

The film’s cinematography supports this instability and the sense of unease felt throughout. Both the brief introduction and Clark’s early expeditions into the Backrooms are shown through the gritty 1990s camcorder he brings to document them. The footage is full of shaky breaths and first-person angles, with the camera wobbling when he walks and violently shaking when he runs. By lingering on empty corridors, fluorescent lighting, and the repetitive, bleak spaces, the film treats the space itself as the primary subject. Even when the characters are present, they’re framed against the endless walls, positioned against the edges of the frame, or partially obscured, keeping attention fixed on the environment. This is also the first sign the audience sees that the Backrooms exist on a scale far larger than the characters, reducing them to mere ants within a boundless place that continues on regardless of who enters it.

The editing again reinforces this same scale and instability. The film uses abrupt cuts and time skips, returning to characters without explaining what has happened or how much time has passed. In a way, it’s reminiscent of the short, fragmented, and often only vaguely related clips that composed Parsons’ original YouTube series. These gaps prevent the audience from forming a stable timeline, making it difficult to track the progression of the main characters in a conventional sense. And yet, this is the job the movie is given; the problem with the public is that they do not understand that that is the purpose of the movie. The time inside the film feels inconsistent and unreliable, even alluding to the fact that time doesn’t function normally in the Backrooms themselves. Events involving Clark and Mary feel much less like a linear story and more like brief, isolated moments in a space that exists continuously, long before and after they’re present in it. The flow is intended to remain true to the original existential horror of the concept. 

In sum, Backrooms, although a letdown to the public, is a masterpiece of many trades that keeps the ambiguity and eeriness meant for the original story. The genius of the movie comes from the shift of the Hollywood norm from focusing on characters to making the ambiance of the rooms the main factor. The undeserved hate toward the movie stems from a lack of patience due to the morphed adaptations across social media. Backrooms is a radical step for a movie that should be seen as the highest form of artistry instead of something that is compromised and incomplete.