Teenage Sex & Death at Camp Miasma Review: Jane Schoenbrun's Trippy Tribute to '80s Horror is a Winner
A wild, thought-provoking ride (complete with Counting Crows).
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There are several moments in Jane Schoenbrun's latest feature, Teenage Sex & Death at Camp Miasma, where the movie forces you to confront whether you're invested in what's happening or not. Moments where you're either taken out completely or are willing to be enveloped in the sweet embrace that is Little Death, the serial killer at the heart of the series, or not. If you're willing to take the ride, what results is a cerebral, phantasmagoric examination of horror, gender, sex, and death. It's all really in the name, isn't it?
With two spellbinding performances from Gillian Anderson (a career best) and Hannah Einbinder, Camp Miasma is a movie that forces the viewer to look at the horror movies of their youth a little differently. Wipe away the blood and gore, and there's a dark story about our desire to consume violence and misogyny, while simultaneously finding feminine empowerment through sex. It's also got a killer Counting Crows needle drop.
The Camp Miasma films were a series of slashers that came and went throughout the '80s and '90s. Now, "Sundance wunderkind" Kris Williams (Einbinder) is tasked with directing a reboot. Uninterested in doing the same old thing, she decides to have a sit-down with the first film's final girl, Billy Preston (Anderson), in the hopes of getting her to sign on to the project. What results is Kris becoming more enthralled by Billy, who lives on the remnants of where they filmed the first Camp Miasma, as well as Billy's belief that Little Death – the serial killer in the movies – is real.
Schoenbrun continues to find new entry points into the horror genre, continuing the work she established in We're All Going to the World's Fair and I Saw the TV Glow. Here, with the Camp Miasma "franchise," they look at the established world of '80s horror icons. How are they developed? And how does the continued resurgence of tropes and characters affect audiences? Is the power of continuing to revive them enough to make them real? Jack Haven's performance as Little Death, a villain with an air vent for a head and a white Hazmat-esque suit, is equal parts silly and scary. Little Death's introduction is them skipping into frame before chopping a man's head off, the blood spewing out of his neck wound like an oil derrick hitting a gusher.

There's a desire to try to reconcile between a generation of those raised on horror, and how it's objectified women and demonized minorities, with the awareness of how certain horror films (like Nightmare on Elm Street 2) and their coded themes awakened something in the LGBTQ+ community. As Kris says at one point during the movie, because certain movies are so firmly of their time, complete with misogyny and transphobia, Hollywood would rather let marginalized directors do a remake (and take the fall with the fandom) rather than deal with the issues. Yet, Kris can't help but reiterate to Billy, or really anyone who will listen, how the Camp Miasma series, for all its flaws, awakened her own queerness and meant something to her.
Einbinder gives a far different performance than you'd commonly find from her in Hacks. Her Kris is the ultimate fan girl, but one who can only find connection through fandom. She's in a polyamorous relationship Mari (Jasmin Savoy Brown) and Mari's boyfriend Thor (Aren Buchholz) that she's clearly not interested in. When she isn't with them she's talking to agents and producers, or just rewatching random Camp Miasma installments. Kris is the ultimate millennial, content to live firmly in the nostalgia instead of forming genuine connections. And yet there's a warmth that comes from every scene Einbinder is in. From her awe-struck face at seeing Camp Miasma in a gas station to her eventual comfort in pursuing Billy.
By connecting with Billy, Kris sees an opportunity to make her movie better and, by proxy, find a deeper connection to the feature and the woman at its center. The interconnection between how an actor becomes a part of the movie, and where their character ends and they begin is fascinating. This is easily one of Anderson's best performances. Described as the horror equivalent of Norma Desmond – a reference Schoenbrun sadly doesn't seem to trust the audience knows and thus adds "from Sunset Boulevard" to the end of the line – Anderson gives Billy a kooky elegance that's alluring all its own. The two's eventual romance is one charged with so much heat while deconstructing the narrative on female desire.
Billy sees everything through the lens of the movie, blurring the line between where Camp Miasma ends and her life starts. And because of the nostalgia, the movie gives us just as much depth on Camp Miasma, so much so you'd be convinced it actually exists alongside Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th. An extended sequence from the first Camp Miasma plays out and it's pitch perfect, capturing the absurdity and the joy of watching an '80s horror franchise at the start.

But this isn't quite like watching an original movie as Shoenbrun injects a heavy level of absurdity to the proceedings, akin to a live-action Looney Tunes movie. To the tune of the Counting Crows's "Long December," Little Death joyously slaughters a cabin full of campers, including a throwing a shish-kabobed camper against a tetherball pole that's easily one of the best movie deaths committed to celluloid.

When Camp Miasma isn't examining the horror genre it's a biting satire of the current state of Hollywood filmmaking, and the wit is just as sharp as Little Death's weaponry. One extended sequence sees Kris on a Zoom call with a variety of studio executives (and apparently the requisite "Queer Assistant") as they attempt to listen to Kris's unhinged rant with a smile on their face. Jess McLeod's Tracy is particularly hilarious, talking about how great everything sounds with a grin so wide you'll think it's plastered. Clearly Shoebrun understands all of us and the current world of filmmaking.
Teenage Sex & Death at Camp Miasma is certainly about that, but it's about something far more interesting. The way Shoenbrun melds fantasy and reality, satire and absurdity, horror and romance is compellingly watchable and irreverent. Anderson and Einbinder carry the entire movie with aplomb leading to a third act that rips a hole between viewer, author, and character that's unshakable. (Also, this movie proves why we need more Donna Lewis songs playing.)
Grade: B+
Teenage Sex & Death at Camp Miasma is in theaters Friday.
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