‘Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma’ [Fantasia Review]

Ask any horror fan, and they’ll tell you that they first fell in love with the genre after watching a film they weren’t supposed to as a kid. They had rummaged through their older brother’s DVD collection, stayed up late to watch something on TV without their parents knowing, or accidentally stumbled upon a movie while searching for something else, mindlessly clicking through the blue-and-white TV guide until they saw a title that caught their attention. Jane Schoenbrun’s sexy slasher satire Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma captures the thrill of discovering yourself through what frightens and excites you, combining the dreamy experimentation of We’re All Going to the World’s Fair and the confidence of I Saw the TV Glow to deliver the boldest, most joyful—and arguably most personal—film in their “screen trilogy.” 

Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma follows Kris (Hacks star Hannah Einbinder), a young, queer filmmaker who’s been given the opportunity to direct a “woke” reboot of the now defunct “Camp Miasma” franchise after her film—which we later discover is essentially Psycho told from the shower curtain’s perspective—made her a breakout star at Sundance. Determined to bring the original film’s final girl back in the new installment, she travels from New York City to the frozen Pacific Northwest to convince Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson, whose incredible performance can only be described as Dolly Parton meets Norma Desmond) to revive her role. 

Though Billy lives on Camp Tivoli, where the original film was shot, she’s stayed far away from the franchise, declining to star in the progressively crappy sequels until Hollywood stopped calling altogether. She’s found happiness and fulfillment creating Mark Rothko-esque paintings of the film’s killer, “Little Death” (Jack Haven), from the comfort of her cabin, where she invites Kris to stay the night. When Kris reminds Billy that this is a work meeting, Billy purrs, “We’re already working.” 

As the women rewatch the first “Camp Miasma” film, Kris realizes why she identified so much with Billy’s character in the first place: there was something about the look in her eyes. And that something is still in her eyes now. If only Kris, who identifies herself with her work rather than just living it, didn’t have so many hang-ups about sex. Maybe then she could experience what Billy experienced in “Camp Miasma” herself. Hey, the film’s spear-wielding, gender-fluid killer wasn’t named after the French colloquialism for no reason. 

While Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma certainly engages with themes of gender and transness, Schoenbrun seems to be more fascinated with discovering yourself through pop culture, specifically horror, embracing what arouses you, and realizing that desire and fear are often related. Perhaps I’ve been reading too much psychoanalysis, but I saw a lot of myself in Kris’s gradual acceptance of her specific desires, and I’m sure others will too, making Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma surprisingly accessible despite its densely layered ideas and playful takes on the genre. 

I don’t think anyone who has followed Schoenbrun would have expected the words “joy” and  “playful” to be used this much to review their work, but it’s the only way I can describe Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma. Make no mistake, this is still a Schoenbrun film, but it’s also their warmest and funniest take on some of the ideas they’ve been exploring. An outrageous Zoom call devolves into a frightening freakout that reminded me a lot of one of the most iconic moments in We’re All Going to the World’s Fair. There’s a sensual KFC dinner that will make you think about dipping sauces in a whole new way. Little Death beheads and skewers campers to a surprising needle-drop. In fact, there are a ton of carefully deployed needle-drops that caught me by surprise each time. Try to guess which song Anderson is singing along to while Einbinder runs through the woods in nothing but her underwear, terrified for her life.

Which brings me to Einbinder’s performance. As Kris, she’s an awkward but loveable 29-year-old with a Bound-inspired tattoo who is totally fine being in a polyamorous relationship as long as her partner’s needs are met. She’d rather be eating gas station candies (she tells Billy that we are living in “the golden age of gummies”) and watching the “Camp Miasma” franchise in her juvenile matching pink silk pajamas and bunny slippers than having sex anyway, or so she thinks. This is Einbinder’s career-best work, and after this, I’m convinced she’s one of the most exciting performers to watch right now.

Like so many of those life-changing late-night watches that introduced us to the horror genre, Schoenbrun’s latest is one that will be on my mind for a while. Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is a funny, sexy, and wildly subversive masterpiece that understands why we keep coming back to slasher films in the first place. MUBI, I’d better see that Little Death pinball machine in my local dive bar ASAP.

Tags: Fantasia Fest gillian anderson Hannah Einbinder Jane Schoenbrun review teenage sex and death at camp miasma

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