Backrooms

Even during its DIY beginnings as a loosely structured and logistically constricted viral YouTube series, Backrooms felt like something bigger.

That potential is both a blessing and a curse for the cinematic spinoff, which expands upon the creepy mythology to provide a reasonable entry point for newcomers without sacrificing the gritty first-person aesthetic or insider connections to the source material, known as a creepypasta.

However, this chilling exercise in psychological horror isn’t as compelling when trying to establish real-world connections through characters with more defined backstories. They might make the material more accessible — both physically and emotionally — but also compromise some of the enigmatic appeal of its existential puzzle.

Still, the film is inventive and deeply disturbing, in part because of its commitment to a convoluted concept that seems kind of silly on the surface — immersing us in its disjointed and intentionally disorienting maze of surreal nightmares.

Set in the 1990s, the lightly plotted story centers on Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a recovering alcoholic and down-on-his-luck California furniture salesman with a lighting issue in his showroom, as detailed to his exasperated therapist (Renate Reinsve).

Clark accidentally finds a portal in the wall that enables him to “no-clip” into a vast series of underground, interconnected liminal spaces — mostly defined by their yellow walls, buzzy fluorescent lighting, outdated carpeting, and vintage office architecture.

He attempts exploring and mapping out this strange parallel universe, where each step into a randomly placed hallway, doorway, or stairway sparks new levels of curiosity and anxiety, without knowing whether it’s real or what it all means.

It’s all sure to spark debate among aficionados in terms of the corporate references, previously unexplored rooms and entities, chronological links, and deeper meanings.

Deceptively slow-paced and simplistic, the film leans into the best qualities of the source material. While maximizing its stark labyrinthine sets, the premise succeeds in stripping terror down to its essence, preying upon fear, paranoia, panic, and despair.

It’s meticulously constructed by rookie director Kane Parsons, who popularized the online series and demonstrates a sense of visual composition and narrative structure well beyond his 20 years.

Ejiofor makes a captivating tour guide, whether or not you’ve been in this world before, or can appreciate the Easter eggs sprinkled throughout.

As far as a homework assignment, you’re advised to brush up on the lore to fully enjoy Backrooms, although it’s not mandatory.

Rated R, 110 minutes.