Women's Lifestyle May 19, 2026 0 Comments

Inside Renate Reinsve’s Mysterious Backrooms Journey: What Secrets Drew Her In?

Ever found yourself wandering through an empty mall or an endless office corridor and thought, “Why does this feel both creepy and oddly comforting?” You’re not alone. Liminal spaces—those eerie, deserted places that sit somewhere between ‘here’ and ‘there’—have been quietly capturing our weird, collective imagination for years. And when the pandemic tipped the world upside down, these spaces became the perfect metaphor for that gnawing feeling of life’s unpredictability and disquiet. Now, enter Renate Reinsve, the Oscar-nominated force who’s drawn to this unsettling vibe, seeing it as a lens to understand the absurdity of our shifting reality. Pair her fascination with Kane Parsons’ fresh take—a young mind transforming internet folklore into a cinematic maze—and you’ve got “Backrooms,” a film that dives deep into the heart of modern anxieties: efficiency-run amok, technological dread, and the hollow ache of uncertainty. It’s more than just horror; it’s a mirror to our times, where the spaces around us echo the chaos within. Curious how a vacant office maze can unpack Gen Z’s existential crisis—and maybe yours too? Dive in. LEARN MORE

5 min read

Empty, labyrinthine malls. Office buildings drenched in fluorescent light. Silent hotel corridors. In the late 2010s, these familiar yet off-putting (and vaguely menacing) images flooded the internet. Then, when the pandemic upended daily life and made the world feel unstable and disjointed, so-called “liminal spaces” came to embody a broader cultural anxiety: the uneasy feeling of watching the world stop making sense.

Renate Reinsve, who stars in A24’s new Gen Z horror movie Backrooms, found herself fixated on these images because the uncanniness brought her a strange comfort. “It related so much to the way I see the world and the absurdity of the real world,” the Oscar-nominated star of Sentimental Value explains during a recent video call. She likened the appeal to her reverence for absurd and surreal artworks that alter reality enough to expose life’s natural weirdness—an interest of hers that peaked during the pandemic. “To understand the world we live in, and especially during Covid, where things changed so much, and how the society was structured, how we went to work changed, how we interacted changed—everything changed during that time—and the only thing I could find comfort in was what was watching surrealism,” she says, but she also wondered if other people were feeling the same way when they were confronted with the same images. The answer came in the form of a call from Kane Parsons, a young filmmaker developing a movie about these very same spaces.

Figure standing near a wall with blue tape outlining a rectangle.

A24

Still from Backrooms

The resulting film, Backrooms, from the 20-year-old director known online as “Kane Pixels,” is out at the end of the month. In it, he has crafted a cinematic universe for these spaces and filled it with a stacked cast that also includes Chiwetel Ejiofor, Mark Duplass, Finn Bennett, and Lukita Maxwell. But what are “the Backrooms?” The idea originated on 4chan’s paranormal-themed board when a user requested “disquieting images” in 2019. Soon, images of empty, boundless office spaces began populating the page. The next year, when people actually deserted these rooms during the pandemic, they began to feel like eerie relics of the past. The Backrooms soon became an internet horror myth (“creepypasta” if you want to get technical) centered on endless office-like spaces. At 16, Parsons started the now cult-classic YouTube series “The Backrooms,” presented as VHS found footage of a person stuck in a boundless maze, chased by a monster.
Parsons’ feature debut fleshes out this subject. It follows Clark (Ejiofor), a divorcee who stumbles into the “backrooms,” and when he disappears, his therapist, Dr. Mary Kline (Reinsve), pursues him in this nightmarish maze of distorted office rooms. Reinsve is an unlikely star for this film; she was nominated for the Best Actress Academy Award this year for her work in Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value, and won Best Actress at Cannes in 2021 for Trier’s previous film The Worst Person In The World. “I belong to [the world of] social realism, and it’s much more open and nuanced and detailed in the acting,” Reinsve explains. “But here you have to be more clean and drive it to the end of the scene, or you have to go somewhere with your acting. It’s more deliberate in a way.”

One similarity with her previous roles is that Mary grapples with deep-seated emotional distress. “Childhood trauma and I’m sold!,” Reinsve jokes. But here, the anxiety is literally reflected (or refracted, really) onto the actual physical space around these characters, populating the rooms. What drew her was the way Backrooms turns anxiety into something tangible. It extends past her character, speaking to general social anxieties (many of which particularly plague Gen Z): the unease of spaces built for efficiency, the fear of technology, and the uncertainty of the world. In its endless empty rooms, she saw how Parsons wanted to show how modern environments can shape (and distort) our mental state.

Individual sitting in an office environment with bookshelves and a desk.

A24

Still from Backrooms

“He had the same existential ideas of these spaces that create themselves based on our psychology and the surroundings that we have—that we’re so affected by—and because society now is focusing so much on being effective, saving money, and optimizing, these [liminal] spaces are getting more and more normal,” she says.

When Reinsve read the script, she immediately recalled David Lynch’s Blue Velvet, thinking about “the subconscious room” and how “the room changed and was its own character.” But when she told Parsons, she was shocked to find out he didn’t know the reference. “I was very curious about what that was like: What did he see?” Reinsve says, explaining that she witnessed the next generation working with a completely different set of reference points. Instead, Parsons drew inspiration from the internet, from video game narratives, and other sources Reinsve was unfamiliar with. “I felt I could kind of see my world with new eyes and his world with new eyes,” she adds.

A person standing in front of a house with a blurred face.

A24

Still from Backrooms

“I see now it’s this wave of directors coming from the internet,” says Reinsve. “Filmmakers back in the day could produce a lot more because they didn’t need the financing in the same way that directors need now. [These younger directors are] building a structure around their filmmaking that is just what they can access. YouTube, for Kane, had a lot of freedom. And also the beauty of that was a whole collective [fanbase] building the narrative and building a mythology around this one picture that came up [on the internet].”

A horror movie about a paranormal office building is pretty far outside what we’d think Reinsve’s comfort zone is, yet the actress sees this as part of her trajectory, not a deviation. “I really love learning new things, so it’s not like I’m not changing course,” says Reinsve. She explains a similar pivot when she decided to do a “Charlie Kaufman-ish” movie, A Different Man, after Worst Person because “it felt wrong to do a romantic comedy right after—I needed to do something completely different.”

But Reinsve is far from the only person who’s been lured into the Backrooms internet lore. The world is making less and less sense every day, so it’s not hard to speculate about why the younger generation gravitates towards stories (or literally just memes) about existential dread; ambiguity, in this way, is somewhat reassuring. Backrooms showed Reinsve that other people, including an entire generation who came of age on the internet and in the post-pandemic world, also felt moved by the liminal spaces.

“All these kids are getting so much information and living in a time where you communicate so much online,” Reinsve says. “They have a completely different take on the experience of reality than I had when I grew up, but it still affected me. That’s my interpretation of why it got so big: that you would find some comfort in looking. Because sometimes if you have something irrational in you, the only way to meet it, to understand it, is to do something else that’s irrational.”