Tag: Supernatural Horror

Read More
A still from Kane Parsons's "Backrooms," depicting Chiwetel Ejiofor in a brightly lit yellow room, as reviewed and analyzed by poet and film critic Ezekiel Yu for the automachination literary magazine.

I Think I Like It In Here: Reviewing Kane Parsons’s “Backrooms” (2026)

Kane Parsons’s “Backrooms” is the first mainstream film that I’m aware of to have been inspired by, of all things, a 4chan post. Chances are you already know about the Backrooms, especially if you’re Gen Z or a millennial or have spent any significant amount of time memeing on the Internet. If you don’t, then it’s a simple enough concept to explain. Imagine a dank, yellow-wallpapered office space, empty of all features save the blank angularity of walls and a vaguely unsettling openness. Now imagine that going on and on, forever.

It’s a weird alternate take on our reality, as if the universal software had glitched and copy-pasted this uncanny liminal space into its own pocket dimension. An anon on the original 4chan post (which featured on one of the site’s forums dedicated to paranormal phenomena), however, explains it more evocatively:

“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

“God save you if you hear something wandering around nearby, because it sure as hell has heard you”

—Anonymous, 4chan (May 13, 2019) […]

Read More
A still from Curry Barker's "Obsession," depicting a woman in silhouette (Inde Navarrette) standing on her lit patio at night, with Michael Johnston sitting in his car, as reviewed by the poet and film critic Ezekiel Yu for the automachination literary magazine.

Why Don’t You Love Me: Reviewing Curry Barker’s “Obsession” (2025)

The obsession of Curry Barker’s title refers, superficially, to the poor young woman who develops an increasingly unhinged attachment to the protagonist of the film, Bear, after he makes a magic wish that forces her to be “in love” with him. Her name is Nikki, and they are part of a tight-knit circle of friends—involving two others, Sarah and Ian—who work together at a family-run music store.

But the deeper obsession is really Bear’s, which becomes the end-all-be-all of their doomed dynamic, and also that which lies at the heart of all the film’s now notorious moments of horror. Nikki, after all, has her own thoughts and dreams and designs; her own personhood, in a word, and it is that very personhood, that autonomy, that gets in the way of Bear’s idealizations, i.e. his fundamental misunderstanding (willful or not) of who Nikki is, and who he is to her.

You see, Bear likes Nikki (Michael Johnston and Inde Navarette, both relative newcomers). She’s beautiful, artistic, funny, outgoing—the girl of his dreams. Only problem is, Nikki doesn’t seem to like Bear in the same way. She clearly cares for him, and even seems to prize their relationship relative to their other friends—but romantic love? This is decidedly less clear. Much to Ian’s chagrin, Bear commits to confessing his feelings to Nikki at the group’s beloved trivia night; though the death of Bear’s cat from a slip-up involving some old pills puts a damper on the proceedings. […]