BACKROOMS Fans Keep Saying I Didn't Understand the Movie, But That's Not the Problem

Ever since I shared my thoughts on Backrooms, I've seen the same response pop up over and over again:

"You just didn't get it."

At this point, that defense has become almost as common as praise for the movie itself. If someone criticizes Backrooms, there's a decent chance they'll be told they missed the point, didn't understand the themes, or weren't familiar enough with Kane Parsons' YouTube series to appreciate what the film was doing.

Here's the thing… I get it. I understand what the movie is trying to say. I understand Clark's emotional journey. I understand Mary's trauma. I understand what the Backrooms represent, what Pirate Clark represents, and what the ending is attempting to communicate. I even took the time to dive into the lore surrounding the original web series after watching the movie.

My issue isn't that I didn't understand Backrooms. My issue is that I understood it and still didn't think it worked. That's a very different conversation.

One of the strangest things about the discourse surrounding this movie is how criticism often gets treated as confusion. As if the only reason someone wouldn't connect with the film is because they somehow failed to decode it correctly.

But understanding a movie and enjoying a movie aren't the same thing. I understand that Clark is a deeply unhappy man trapped by his own bitterness. I understand that Dr. Mary Kline is dealing with trauma from her childhood and her complicated relationship with her mother.

I understand that the Backrooms function as a distorted reflection of reality, copying people, places, and memories in unsettling ways. I understand that Pirate Clark is essentially the physical manifestation of Clark's worst instincts, his anger, his denial, and his refusal to take responsibility for his life.

None of that went over my head. I just don't think those ideas were executed particularly well.

Good themes don't automatically make a good movie. A strong concept isn't the same thing as strong storytelling. You can absolutely understand what a film is trying to accomplish while also feeling that it falls short of its goals.

That's where I landed with Backrooms.

Another argument I've seen a lot is that the movie isn't really about plot or character development. It's about atmosphere. It's about mood and the vibe. It's about the feeling of being lost in an impossible place.

And honestly, I agree with part of that. The atmosphere is the best thing in the movie. I can see how some people think the Backrooms themselves are creepy. The production design is impressive. The liminal spaces are weird, uncomfortable, and occasionally fascinating to look at. Parsons clearly understands why people became obsessed with this concept in the first place.

The problem is that atmosphere can only carry a story for so long. A ten-minute YouTube video can survive almost entirely on mood and mystery. A two-hour feature film is playing a different game.

At that point, audiences need compelling characters. They need story progression. They need dramatic tension. They need emotional investment. They need a reason to stay engaged beyond simply admiring the environment.

For me, that's where Backrooms struggled. The pacing constantly felt off. The movie spends long stretches wandering through the strange environment while very little actually happens.

Scenes repeat the same emotional beats. Characters move from location to location without much momentum. The atmosphere keeps asking us to stay invested, but the story rarely gives us enough to grab onto.

A vibe isn't a substitute for a narrative. The biggest example of this is Clark himself. He's positioned as the emotional center of the film, but I never found him particularly compelling.

His motivations often feel vague, and there's a massive section of the story where his transformation from troubled furniture store owner to completely unhinged Backrooms resident happens largely offscreen.

That's not ambiguity, that's missing development. One minute Clark is exploring the Backrooms. The next he's living there, apparently responsible for the death of one employee, and roleplaying family dinners with distorted copies of people.

That feels less like a character arc and more like a giant chunk of the movie went missing. Then there's the issue that nobody seems to want to talk about. You shouldn't have to do homework to fully appreciate a movie.

After watching Backrooms, I went back and researched the web series. I learned more about Async. I learned about the Low Proximity Magnetic Distortion System. I learned how the Backrooms were discovered. I learned how the larger mythology works.

And here's what surprised me. Almost every major question I had after the movie was answered outside of the movie. That's not a strength, that's a problem.

A feature film should stand on its own. Supplemental material can enhance the experience, but it shouldn't feel required to fill in major gaps. The more I learned about the web series, the more I felt like the movie was leaning on knowledge many viewers simply won't have.

What's frustrating is that I don't think Backrooms was far away from being something special. The visuals are excellent and the atmosphere works. Some of the performances are genuinely strong. Kane Parsons clearly has talent, and I think he has a very exciting future ahead of him as a filmmaker.

That's part of why the movie disappointed me. There was so much potential here.

At the end of the day, it's perfectly fine if you loved Backrooms. I'm genuinely happy for the people who connected with it. It's always cool when something you care about gets adapted and lives up to your expectations.

But if someone didn't like it, the automatic response shouldn't be, "You didn't get it." Maybe they got it just fine.

Maybe they simply wanted a stronger story, better pacing, more developed characters, and a script that did more than rely on atmosphere, lore, and vibe. Parsons should’ve gotten better Guidance from producers James Wan and Shawn Levy because they know better.

The real conversation isn't whether people understood Backrooms. The real conversation is whether the storytelling actually worked. For me, it didn't.