I saw on TV that Glow is a silly, pointless horror show

Horror as a genre is a turn off for me. Why would you sit through two hours of attempts to scare you when nothing is even remotely scary? I saw the glow on TV resembles psychological warfare. The fear is not meant to be conventional. There are no visible monsters. But plenty of invisible ones; the kind of monsters that are implanted in the brains of TV addicts who spend hours glued to reality shows, some of which are pretty brutal, but most of which are irrelevant today, as television has lost its hold on the psyche of civilization.

That's why this scary but not terrifying film first takes place in 1990, where we meet Owen, a whiny, unsympathetic outsider played by Justice Smith which gives the character a kind of well-rounded misanthropy. Many teenagers experience a sense of isolation. Watching a hate-filled series called The Pink Opaque doesn't really help Owen become more sociable. And hanging out with Maddy doesn't help either (Brigette Lundy Paine), who gets upset about everything and everyone.

Owen and Maddy are the saddest, most miserable couple you see on screen, bonded not by mutual love but by their hatred for a world that rejects their unorthodox thinking and physicality.

There are hints that one or both of the pair are transgender. Regardless of their sexual and emotional orientation, Owen and Maddy are not meant to be together. Usually we wish for couples to stay together. In this case, we wish for the exact opposite… assuming we wish for anything at all in this distancing horror drama, painted in neon colors that suggest evil rather than fun.

The effect of the reality show The Pink Opaque on impressionable minds is portrayed by the director in a scary, bizarre way. Jane Schoenbrun that doesn't shy away from portraying the desolation of the deviant. However, I found it very difficult to connect with the characters. There are only two of them, and both have drifted so far into the abyss of isolation that they seem more like ghosts (which they aren't) than real people (which they hardly fulfill).

The bizarre connection between TV addiction and social isolation never quite hits the audience. There's a metaphorical monster named Mr. Melancholy (Emma Portner) who keeps appearing in various deadly avatars and draws the unsuspecting TV addict into the show: literally.

The end of the show, in which Owen cuts open his chest to reveal a glowing television screen, is not meant to be allegorical: it is an expression of acute neurosis. How much time do we have left before we fall into the abyss? We really don't want to know.