‘Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma’ Nests Vulnerability Inside Carnage

Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, as the title suggests, is a delectable slasher comedy dripping with sexual awakenings and rediscovery. If an axiom of 80’s horror was that high body counts and beautiful buxom blondes sold tickets, writer/director Jane Schoenbrun is restoring the feeling. For a filmmaker whose first two feature films are starkly defined by the stillness and isolation, for their next work to be marked by its silliness and eroticism is a haymaker. But that is the versatility 39-year-old Schoenbrun is flexing. If their previous work resonated because it was meditative, cautionary, and bold, the new continues down those paths while allowing for a much funnier and gorier experience.

To kick things off, the story is a bit of a Russian nesting doll, with movies within this one movie. An unassuming couple gingerly strolls through the woods. Things don’t end well for them, as they are dismembered and decapitated, with blood shooting 100ft in the air like a red water fountain. The couple is one of many deaths in the fictionalized Camp Miasma horror franchise. Akin to Friday the 13th, the slashers feature the killer named Little Death and too many series entries to bother counting. (My favorite being Camp Miasma Part IX: Slay Bells with the tagline, “Slashing through the snow.”) Like the Friday franchise, Camp Miasma began popular, but that dissipated with each new film.

Kris (Hannah Einbinder), a 29-year-old queer filmmaker, is hired to resurrect the dead in the water franchise. She has an idea to recast the scream queen from the original Camp Miasma, Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson), now in her 50s. Billy has rejected every offer to appear in the other Camp Miasma sequel films but chose to live at the campsite where filming took place. Kris, unsure she will be able to recruit Billy, is also unsure of herself. Even with beautiful partner Mari (Jasmin Savoy Brown), Kris is still uneasy and mousy. Kris realized that she was queer by watching young Billy (Amanda Fix) star in Camp Miasma as a little girl, so meeting the aged actor is like meeting a hero.

Kris reaches the snowy camp and finds Billy; her presence is equal parts ghost haunting the site and Norma Desmond from Sunset Boulevard. Billy holds grace and beauty as if she were still a debutante. Gillian Anderson’s southern accent is giving third-generation wealthy Dallas oil money, but her character is much more humble and sage. She is big; it’s the pictures that got small. Billy serves buckets of KFC and has sugary sweet candy and treats by the pound. While Kris tries to make a formal pitch to join the new movie, Billy cuts through the pleasantries to learn more specifically about her.

The heart of Teenage Sex and Death is Kris and Billy, though divided by age and experience; the way they are brought together is endearing and feels earned. In many films, the older person training their young counterpart how to blossom sexually can be predatory, but Schoenbrun is smart not to let that happen; many of their scenes are caring and thoughtful, with a healthy dose of comedy and emotionality. Kris knows all the keywords and terms that dominate most of the internet speak Gen Z is accustomed to, but when they land on Billy, it comes across as more academic than passionate. She identifies as queer and in a polyamorous relationship, but she doesn’t speak to whether her relationship or sex life makes her actually happy. (Hint: they don’t.) The most salient and humorous moment is Kris detailing a sexual fantasy and then immediately debasing her own desire by saying it’s rooted in misogyny. Their early scenes are a testament to the wonderful chemistry and comedic timing between Einbinder and Anderson, as they find a comfortable groove to be vulnerable and, eventually, uninhibited.

Before long, the tenor of the film changes and pivots from the “will they, won’t they” established tone to a horror film. Billy, while smoking a rolled joint on the wintry porch, tells the story of how Little Death is alive and lives at the bottom of the frozen lake. This puts Kris and the audience in a precarious position, questioning whether Billy is actually right or if her time at Camp Miasma made her go crazy. Her cabin is littered with square iconography that resembles the shape of Little Death’s air vent helmet. Later that night, Billy is talking, seemingly, to another unknown person in the house, and Kris begins to get suspicious. Is Little Death, a fictionalized serial killer, actually real? Is Kris his next victim?

Once the stage is set, the feel of Teenage Sex and Death can change at any moment, scene to scene, and that keeps the proceedings interesting. If a fault of Schoenbrun’s prior work was that it felt one-note and too slowly paced, their new film is a lesson in tension building and keeping the audience guessing right through to the end.

Even though Kris is on a journey of self-discovery, she has to contend with her agent and production studio, who are all pressuring her to tailor her film idea to their needs. The pressure of these two divergent ideas causes an inevitable disintegration. A Zoom pitch meeting, staged documentary-style à la The Office, goes to hell, eventually almost stripping naked when she’s unable to articulate her story idea. Its masterful framing lets us witness Kris crash out twice over, from our perspective, who have been on this journey with her, and from the starch-conservative studio producers that have no idea what is going on. Veteran actor Dylan Baker, who is normally quaint and restrained in his performances, is superb as the smarmy boss who is overly energetic but is an actual massive asshole when the coast is clear.

Though Kris may seem the story’s focal point, Billy is just as important. We watch her scenes in Camp Miasma in a non-linear, fractured way. Each time we revisit her scenes, we learn how the movie led to her own sexual awakening and why she remained at the camp years later. In most movies or television, when a fake movie is presented, we only hear the title, see the poster, or at best, watch a scene. But Schoenbrun treats us to hearty scenes that give us an understanding of Billy. Amanda Fix as Young Billy has a wide-eyed innocence, similar to Kris, and holds terror and her own discovery deftly.

By watching Camp Miasma, we also see Little Death’s killing of a dozen teens with another cameo from the hilarious Eva Victor, who is almost unrecognizable as the stereotypical leather punk teen. CGI blood and guts spill in droves, feeding craven teens looking for cheap thrillers that only 80’s slashers can provide. Also, we learn its origin story, and how the queerness of that person links to Kris.

Hannah Einbinder has the toughest job of all, as she has to oscillate between uncertainty and wonder, and embarrassment and elation. Many movies this year have no problem with having male characters with emotional variance but rarely ask the same of the women. But Einbinder is more than game, giving one of the most unguarded and fearless performances of the year.

As Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma barrels toward its bloody conclusion, it has to answer some challenging questions regarding Kris and if she will morph into a newly evolved person or remain stagnant. Avid fans of I Saw The TV Glow may be disappointed that Teenage Sex and Death may not have the same emotional stickiness. Owen’s journey ended with profound sadness, and the tragedy of a queer person choosing not to embrace their truth has deep resonance. Teenage Sex and Death has the same message, just paired with geysers of blood shot sky high. And because of its sometimes silly and always bombastic horror elements, the film’s pointed kitschiness may not be palatable to some. However, beyond the buckets of blood and dedication to gummy worms, Teenage Sex and Death’s emotional core is rich. While Owen did not embrace his true self, Kris can right that wrong to achieve the life she deserves.

It’s telling that queer Baby Boomer and Millennial filmmakers this year (Greg Araki with I Want Your Sex and Schoenbrun) are really concerned about the youth being comfortable with their sexuality and sexual expression. Which makes sense considering 27% of Gen Zers have been flirting with AI chatbots.  

If this is the dismount to Schoenbrun’s horror media trilogy that started their career, during this current age of cynicism and disconnection, it is a hopeful thing that actualization and gratification are waiting at the end of the rainbow if you are brave enough to follow it.

Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is now playing in select theaters.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars