During a period in which we’ve seen resurrections of iconic franchises such as Scream, Halloween, and Evil Dead, writer and director Jane Schoenbrun presents a satirical take on this idea with their latest feature, Teenage Sex & Death at Camp Miasma. The psychological thriller follows indie filmmaker Kris (Hannah Einbinder) who has been hired to reboot an 80s horror series. As part of her prep, she arranges a meeting with reclusive actress Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson), the ‘final girl’ from the original who now lives on its abandoned campsite set somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. The pair grow closer and when they dig out an old VHS tape of the first film, the lines between fiction and reality become chaotically blurred.
In Schoenbrun’s previous effort I Saw the TV Glow, the ambitious storytelling vividly explored the trans experience through the lens of a YA supernatural television show. This time around, in the third and final instalment in what the director has referred to as their ‘screen trilogy’, they illustrate the intimate complexities of sexual awakening within a love letter to slasher cinephilia. It results in another bold vision that’s packed full of ideas, imagery, and allegory, but it feels more assured in its compelling execution. Production design and a killer soundtrack give a nostalgic B-movie style, but the arthouse piece is structurally and thematically innovative in its endlessly inventive ‘film within a film’ narrative.
Einbinder is best known for her work on HBO comedy Hacks and brings a similar comical cocktail of cultural intellect and crushing insecurity to this brilliantly conceived role. We watch her grow in confidence when her tender bond with Billy takes shape; Anderson can often feel quite theatrical in her performances but that commanding gravitas is perfect for this character with her southern drawl and extravagance. When she’s not devouring fried chicken or bags of sweets, she’s chewing the scenery around her. Running alongside the central thread, Jack Haven impresses as spear-wielding, metal mask-wearing murderer Little Death whose moniker is a playful nod to the French expression for orgasm and whose traumatic origin story pays tribute to the gender-fluidity of genre antagonists of years gone by.
Already an exciting voice in queer cinema, director Jane Schoenbrun raises their volume to scream queen status with shlock-horror homage Teenage Sex & Death at Camp Miasma. A thrilling blood-soaked romance dripping in meta-sexual eroticism, this is like nothing else you’ll see in the cinema all year.
Cinema Perspective 