We’ve finally received a tantalizing glimpse into A24’s upcoming cinematic nightmare, The Backrooms. This feature-length expansion of the viral YouTube phenomenon draws its inspiration from the depths of internet creepypasta lore. As a long-standing enthusiast of the concept, I initially harbored significant doubts about the transition to the big screen. History suggests that digital folklore rarely survives the Hollywood meat grinder, and the fact that the director is only 17 years old added another layer of uncertainty. However, despite the brevity of the teaser, I’m feeling a newfound sense of confidence: this project appears to be in exceptionally capable hands.
My fascination with “The Backrooms” and the broader aesthetic of liminal spaces is deeply rooted. I’ve spent countless hours scrolling through urban exploration communities, mesmerized by photos of derelict architecture frozen in time or uncanny structural anomalies—like the infamous indoor courtyard at Heathrow Airport. When the Backrooms mythos exploded in popularity during the pandemic, it resonated perfectly with the isolation of the era. The premise is brilliantly minimalist: you accidentally glitch out of reality and find yourself imprisoned in a non-Euclidean maze of beige wallpaper, sodden carpets, and the maddening, relentless hum of fluorescent lighting. The original 4chan post that birthed this concept articulated the dread perfectly:
“If you’re not careful and you noclip out of reality in the wrong areas, you’ll end up in the Backrooms, where it’s nothing but the stink of old moist carpet, the madness of mono-yellow, the endless background noise of fluorescent lights at maximum hum-buzz, and approximately six hundred million square miles of randomly segmented empty rooms to be trapped in,” the original anonymous post warns. “God save you if you hear something wandering around nearby, because it sure as hell has heard you.”
While that final sentence hints at a lurking predator, the true essence of the Backrooms has always been about an intangible, psychological unease. The horror stems from the inexplicable nature of the environment—a phenomenon known as kenopsia. It is the haunting sensation of being in a place that feels both intimately familiar and utterly alien, a space seemingly abandoned by time itself.
As the concept gained traction, the internet did what it does best: it over-explained. A community-driven wiki emerged, detailing hundreds of Backrooms “levels,” each more convoluted than the last. Unfortunately, many writers began populating these spaces with generic, monstrous entities. In my view, shifting the focus to standard “monster-of-the-week” horror dilutes the tension and ignores the core appeal. There is a profound difference between the *suggestion* of a presence and the overcrowding of every level with low-rent SCP imitations. Even the community’s most active contributors have expressed fatigue regarding this creature-heavy direction.
However, one visionary has consistently maintained the integrity of the mythos: 17-year-old VFX prodigy Kane Parsons, known online as Kane Pixels. In early 2022, Parsons debuted a found-footage short that redefined the genre. Set in 1996, the film follows a young cameraman who “noclips” through the floor while filming with friends. The protagonist’s journey through a shifting architectural nightmare is masterful, eventually introducing a spindly, wire-like entity. Crucially, the video avoids a typical slasher ending, opting for a conclusion that is far more surreal and haunting.
With over 71 million views, Parsons has continued to build a sophisticated narrative universe. While some of his installments feature entities, the focus remains on world-building. His “archival” style offers glimpses into the bureaucratic operations of employees tasked with exploring the void, and lore drops that hint at scientific experiments gone wrong. Parsons understands that the environment itself is the antagonist, making him the ideal candidate for A24’s adaptation.
Beyond his technical prowess, Parsons possesses a rare grasp of pacing. He understands that a compelling Backrooms story requires a slow-burn tension that avoids the frantic rhythm of contemporary horror. Over-explaining the mystery or relying on cheap jump-scares only serves to make the void feel smaller and less threatening.
I was relieved to see that the A24 teaser for The Backrooms is devoid of monster reveals. It utilizes a singular, descending panning shot through a sequence of repeating rooms. We see the iconic yellow decor and a vintage recliner that slowly sinks into the floor—an echo of the unsettling imagery from This House Has People In It. The geometry becomes increasingly distorted, turning doorways into abstract suggestions of exits.
“All these rooms, this place builds them,” a voiceover observes. “Actually, more like it… remembers them.”
The teaser resists the urge to end with a scream or a chase. Instead, the dread builds steadily, suggesting that the Backrooms itself is a sentient, architectural entity—much like the Oldest House in Remedy’s Control. By opting for restraint, A24 and Parsons are honoring the source material’s uncanny roots. This “less is more” strategy might be riskier than a generic action-horror trailer, but it promises a much more rewarding experience for those who have been following the mythos for years.
We’ll find out exactly what is—or isn’t—waiting in the halls when The Backrooms noclips into theaters on May 29.
Source: Polygon
