The Film Experience

by Nick Taylor

In an act of controversial cinema adoration, the awards-giving body that’s spent most of its thirty years structured around gender-neutral acting categories has recognized a gender-neutral performer. Brigette Lundy-Paine is nominated by the Gotham Awards for Outstanding Supporting Performance for their turn in Jane Schoenbrun’s I Saw the TV Glow. Lundy-Paine’s Maddy is the only friend of Justice Smith’s Owen, and his guide into the world of The Pink Opaque. It’s a strange, commanding performance, an all-too-real portrait of queer dysphoria and camaraderie tested by alternate realities, shitty dads, and an evil moon. I am unbelievably thankful for this film and for Lundy-Paine's embodiment of this character, so now seems like the best time to celebrate their work. Follow me under the cut if you want to know the truth . . . .

We first meet Maddy as an aloof ninth-grader hanging around her high school’s cafeteria in 1996, face buried in an official guidebook for The Pink Opaque while waiting for photographs to develop in the school’s darkroom. She’s doing her best to be ignored in the hustle and bustle of election night. But her book attracts the attention of seventh-grade Owen (Ian Foreman), who is so excited to see her Pink Opaque guidebook he overcomes his anxiety to approach her about it. Maddy rebuffs him at first, but she soon recognizes him as a kindred spirit, and invites him to watch the next episode of The Pink Opaque at her house.

The way Maddy carries herself, from physical comportment to every single aspect of how she’s styled, is so recognizable as a particular type of moody, queer loner who’s actually desperate for a friend. The nanosecond she recognizes Owen as one of the family she becomes excited to take him under her wing and show him what all the cool weirdos are obsessed with. Maddy’s description of The Pink Opaque is a poignant offering of friendship, one Lundy-Paine delivers with a rushed, childish patter - but crucially without breaking into rambling, because she knows the show too well to make that mistake. She would never misspeak when info-dumping about her favorite thing in the world.

There’s real technical skill to Lundy-Paine’s performance, namely their ability to age so believably from different stages of uncomfortable teenager into a unnerving young adult. Very Sissy Spacek. Not every actor can pull that off, especially under wigs that depict a very volatile relationship to their character’s gender conformity. It’s remarkable to notice on rewatch how commanding Lundy-Paine is with their voice. Their cadence superficially resembles an above-it-all high school emo, but there’s such force and detail to their line readings. Even if they sound dispassionate, it’s not hard to register the raw emotion Lundy-Paine is bringing to their performance.

I also love the sense of all too recognizable alienation Lundy-Paine projects. Maddy always knows more than Owen, always feels and expresses more than him. The sheer depth of emotion as she rages against a former friend or suddenly starts crying at an episode of The Pink Opaque (as Tara smack-talks an evil clown) is shocking, somehow soul-baring while pushing us further from totally understanding who this person is. As direct as their dialogue often is, Lundy-Paine constantly adds dimension to their lines and body language to suggest a tremendous amount of lives Maddy has already lived. If Owen is haunted by the reality he's refused to acknowledge, Maddy carries the weighted disappointment of fighting to actually be herself, in whatever way might finally resolve her identity. It’s no surprise that Maddy eventually runs away. What’s more shocking is that she comes back.

Maybe the most singular feat of Lundy-Paine's performance is how they completely subsume themselves to Schoenbrun’s all-consuming tones. That’s an impressive feat to achieve in a film that simultaneously negotiates an oppressive mood *and* transforms with the loopy rhythms of a creepypasta. So many divergences, so many possible realities to embrace and reject. Hiding out in an inflatable star system at her old high school, Maddy offers one path through those realities, speaking the gospel of The Pink Opaque as a way towards self-realization after years of drifting from one city to the next with no satisfaction. Remembering who she was, accepting it, and choosing to meet that fate is the best thing that could have happened to her.

Lundy-Paine plays all of this with an intensity that does not suggest this path will be salvation. There is still a fight to win, a demon to face who may destroy all reality. It’s an incredibly gutsy challenge to the audience, demanding Maddy’s words be taken seriously as a path to escape without Lundy-Paine softening their performance to make this story more comforting. The low-angle shot of Maddy, practically crawling toward Owen as she talks about finding their hearts in an industrial freezer, and choosing to come back to save her sister, is one of the film’s most threatening images. It is not safe. But it is a way out, a way forward, and it is so much more honest to die as Tara and Isabel than to suffocate in separate coffins as Maddy and Owen. Lundy-Paine conveys this as an irrefutable truth, in I Saw the TV Glow's most hypnotic sequence, and it's a joy to watch every single time. I am in awe of what they achieve here, and I hope we get many, many more films that allow this talented performer to showcase their brilliance

I Saw the TV Glow has been nominated for Best Director, Best Lead Performance, and Best Supporting Performance at the Gotham Awards. It is available to stream on most major digital platforms. Winners will be announced on Sunday, December 1st.

Past coverage of this year's Gotham nominees: