Backrooms
dir. Kane Parsons · 2026
Clark, a failed architect, grapples with his crumbling life and the haunting memories of his past as he discovers a glowing gap in the wall of his basement. As he steps into this surreal void, the boundaries of his reality dissolve, revealing a monochromatic nightmare that reflects his inner turmoil. Watching this film is like traversing a labyrinth of psychological horror, where every corner turned deepens the sense of dread and isolation.
San Jose, California, 1990. Simmering with repressed rage toward his ex-wife and the marriage that never worked, Clark, a failed architect and owner of a struggling furniture store, is about to throw in the towel. After all, between his crushing sense of abandonment and a therapist who can't quite reach him, his world is already crumbling. If only he could fix those pesky electrical glitches in the basement. But life isn't through with Clark yet. When he stumbles into a glowing gap in the wall--a subtle flaw in the fabric of perceived reality--the impossible takes shape. How do you explain to yourself, let alone to others, that everything you knew, felt, or believed dissolves into a monochromatic, musty-yellow nightmare? On the threshold of an eye-opening transition, consumed by the eerie vacancy of an encroaching liminal void, who can accept that there's something else beyond the drywall?
