The Backrooms Phenomenon: When Internet Memes Become Existential Horror
There’s something eerily captivating about the Backrooms. Not just the endless yellow corridors or the hum of fluorescent lights—though those are undeniably unnerving. What’s truly fascinating is how a 4chan post from 2019 has morphed into a Hollywood horror film, complete with Oscar-nominated actors and a 20-year-old director. Personally, I think this isn’t just a story about a meme gone mainstream; it’s a reflection of our collective anxieties, our nostalgia, and our strange relationship with liminal spaces.
From 4chan to A24: The Evolution of a Meme
Let’s start with the origins. The Backrooms began as a single image of an abandoned office space, paired with a chilling description of a place where reality glitches. What makes this particularly fascinating is how quickly it resonated with people. It wasn’t just the visuals—though the mustard-yellow wallpaper is now iconic—but the idea itself. The Backrooms tapped into something primal: the fear of being trapped in a space that feels both familiar and alien.
When Kane Parsons, then just 16, turned this concept into a YouTube series, he didn’t just recreate the meme; he expanded it. Using Blender, a free CGI program, he built a world that felt both low-budget and infinitely haunting. The series’ 200 million views speak to its appeal, but what’s often overlooked is how Parsons’ work elevated the Backrooms from a creepy image to a full-fledged narrative. In my opinion, this is where the real magic happened—the transition from meme to myth.
Hollywood’s Gamble: Can Internet Culture Translate to the Big Screen?
A24’s decision to adapt the Backrooms into a film is bold, but it’s also calculated. Hollywood has been eyeing internet-native culture for years, and for good reason. Platforms like TikTok and Reddit have become breeding grounds for viral phenomena, and the Backrooms is no exception. With 30 billion views on TikTok alone, it’s clear this concept has a massive audience. But here’s the question: can that online fervor translate to box office success?
One thing that immediately stands out is A24’s approach. Instead of relying on jump scares or gore, the film leans into psychological horror, using the Backrooms as a metaphor for mental health struggles. Chiwetel Ejiofor’s character, Clark, isn’t just wandering through endless corridors—he’s confronting his own unresolved traumas. This raises a deeper question: Are the Backrooms a physical space or a manifestation of our inner turmoil?
Liminal Spaces and the Doorway Effect: Why We’re So Unnerved
The Backrooms’ appeal lies in its exploration of liminal spaces—those transitional zones that feel neither here nor there. Neuroscientist Meredith Banasiak points out that hallways and doorways often trigger a sense of unease because they blur our memories. When spaces start blending together, so does our sense of reality. The Backrooms takes this to an extreme, creating a physical symbol of memories dissolving into themselves.
What many people don’t realize is how deeply this concept resonates with Gen Z. Internet researcher Gunseli Yalcinkaya argues that the Backrooms captures the dissatisfaction of being young in a digital age. Reality feels mediated through screens, and the idea of a glitching world isn’t just a horror trope—it’s a metaphor for modern life. If you take a step back and think about it, the Backrooms isn’t just a scary place; it’s a reflection of our existential dread.
Kane Parsons: The Wunderkind Director
At 20, Kane Parsons is the youngest director ever to work with A24, and the media can’t stop talking about it. But what’s more interesting to me is how he’s handled the pressure. Parsons was worried his inexperience would be a liability, but he tells me it never came up on set. Instead, he channeled his obsession into the project, building a 30,000-square-foot set to bring the Backrooms to life.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Parsons balanced staying true to the original YouTube series while adding a ‘real physicality’ to the film. He didn’t just recreate the Backrooms—he deepened them, making the space feel more tangible and, ironically, more unsettling. This isn’t just a director adapting a meme; it’s an artist expanding a universe.
The Broader Implications: What the Backrooms Tells Us About Society
The Backrooms isn’t just a horror film; it’s a cultural artifact. Its rise coincides with the isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic and a growing nostalgia for pre-internet spaces. The Reddit forum dedicated to the Backrooms has over 350,000 subscribers, and many describe the concept as ‘deeply existential.’ It’s not about monsters—it’s about the uncertainty of what else might be lurking in the shadows.
What this really suggests is that horror, at its best, is a mirror to society. The Backrooms taps into our fears of isolation, our anxieties about technology, and our longing for a sense of reality that feels authentic. It’s no coincidence that the film explores mental health—it’s a theme that’s been bubbling under the surface of internet culture for years.
The Future of Internet-Native Cinema
Hollywood’s embrace of the Backrooms is part of a larger trend. Studios are increasingly turning to internet-native creators like Parsons and Curry Barker, whose film Obsession also hit theaters this month. These filmmakers come with ‘preset audiences,’ which is a lifeline for an industry struggling against streaming platforms.
But here’s the thing: this isn’t just about box office numbers. It’s about recognizing that the internet isn’t just a marketing tool—it’s a creative ecosystem. The Backrooms started as a 4chan post, became a YouTube series, and is now a Hollywood film. That’s not just a journey; it’s a blueprint for the future of storytelling.
Final Thoughts: Escaping the Backrooms
As I reflect on the Backrooms phenomenon, I’m struck by how much it says about us. It’s a meme, a film, a psychological study, and a cultural touchstone all at once. Parsons’ advice for surviving the Backrooms—‘Make peace with it’—feels eerily relevant to our own world. Maybe the real horror isn’t the endless corridors or the fluorescent lights; it’s the realization that we’re all wandering through liminal spaces, searching for meaning in a world that often feels like it’s glitching.
In the end, the Backrooms isn’t just a story—it’s a question. Can we escape? Or are we doomed to wander, forever lost in the mono-yellow maze of our own making? Personally, I think that’s a question worth exploring—both on screen and off.
