Despite its overly cryptic nature, Kane Parson’s Backrooms operates as a dizzying descent into psychological unease and creeping torment. In other words, it’s another standout indie horror achievement for 2026. The film not only delivers the creeping tension and uncanny atmosphere you’d expect from the viral creepy pasta source material, but also gives viewers plenty to unpack. Maybe too much, depending on your tolerance for ambiguity. There’s a whole lot going on beneath the surface, and Parsons isn’t particularly interested in spelling any of it out. Yes, we get some blanks tentatively filled in as we approach the finale, but the movie immediately asks you to question the validity of the character providing those answers. That uncertainty becomes part of the experience though. Digging into possible explanations, constructing theories, and debating what’s “really” happening feels completely in tune with the film’s vibe. It wants you to fall down the rabbit hole, to get tangled in its maze of meanings just as the characters do. On its surface, the film works as a chilling metaphor for unresolved trauma and suffocating isolation. But there’s also a surprisingly sharp commentary around AI and the way algorithmic information feeds can distort or disconnect us from reality. The human element, though, grounds everything. Performances are strong across the board, with Chiwetel Ejiofor and Renate Reinsve bringing real emotional heft to a world designed to strip characters of their identity and agency. As for our young director, his talent is undeniable. He demonstrates a remarkably confident grasp of tension-building, showing just enough to keep viewers squirming, leaning forward, and bracing. His use of found-footage aesthetics, including that grainy, staticky analog video quality, only deepens the sense of unease. All told, Backrooms delivers precisely the blend of cerebral terror and nightmare imagery modern horror fans crave. It’s smart, uniquely unnerving, rich with implications, and anchored by a dread that lingers long after the credits roll.