The narrative follows Owen, portrayed by Justice Smith, as they recount the tale of how they became enthralled by the young adult fantasy-horror show ‘The Pink Opaque’ and how a friendship with the troubled Maddie (Brigette Lundy-Paine) blossomed. However, as the runtime unfolds, we quickly realise that this show is not what it seems. The boundaries between reality and fiction begin to blur, and it becomes evident that Owen and Maddie play a much bigger part in it than they initially suspected.

For starters, the performances delivered by Smith and Lundy-Paine are utterly phenomenal. Smith, in particular, gives a performance that is a signed, sealed, and delivered letter for why that Best Actor Oscar belongs on his shelf. Scene after scene, his line delivery, or even just the lingering intensity of his gaze, sent shivers down my spine. Lundy-Paine is equally compelling, bringing an intensity and depth to Maddie that makes their screen time with Smith palpable and real. Moreover, the chemistry between the performers radiates off the screen like a biohazard, largely thanks to Lundy-Paine’s portrayal. Whether alongside Ian Foreman as a young Owen or with Smith as their older self, it is clear that there is a tangible sense of inescapable destiny binding the two characters. This chemistry reaches its peak in Maddie’s final monologue, spoken beneath a tarp and surrounded by lights and constellations. The scene is mesmerising, gripping you from the first word and not letting go until the very last syllable is uttered. It’s a moment that forces you to focus, taking hold of you in a way that few films manage to do.

Before watching the film, I had seen a lot of discourse surrounding its ultimate message. For many, the inventive narrative was just that—a cleverly woven story to ponder on the walk back from the cinema. However, for others, this couldn’t be further from the truth. A significant portion of the audience has identified the film as a powerful trans allegory, an interpretation that becomes almost painfully obvious once you consider the elements Schoenbrun has infused into the narrative. From the very start, the screen is painted with the colours of the trans pride flag, even having a young Owen play beneath a parachute boasting the same hues. When viewed through this lens, moments that at first seem simply sad become soul-crushing, the bitter becomes gut-wrenching, and you’re left sitting in your seat long after the credits roll, still feeling every tear on your face as you grimace with melancholy.

You’re left sitting in your seat long after the credits roll, still feeling every tear on your face as you grimace with melancholy

Naturally, a film encompassing such heavy themes set against an aesthetically vibrant 90s backdrop must be accompanied by an equally devastating score. When I first heard that alt-Indie rocker Alex G would be composing for the film, I knew it would be the perfect fit. The score hums and buzzes like an old TV set, yet keeps elements of the 90s alternative scene ever-present, locking us firmly into the decade. The soundtrack also boasts plenty of triumphs, from King Woman’s “Bury” to my personal standout, Caroline Polachek’s “Starburned and Unkissed.” There is never a dull moment. Eagle-eyed fans might even spot a cameo from the soundtrack during the live music scene, where a rendition of one of the songs is performed.