As time moves further from the 1980s, an aura of nostalgia and longing for the era’s pop-culture glamor remains prevalent throughout modern culture. Mixed into that nostalgia is the decade’s horror output, which remains one of the genre’s favorite eras, if not my favorite. From the absurdity of Society to the consistent camp of beloved slasher icons like Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, and Freddy Krueger, horror was firing on almost every cylinder, even if critics at the time didn’t always agree. While the genre was never the most critically acclaimed, it has always been deeply beloved. Perhaps the most exciting aspect of its legacy is the inspiration it continues to provide for a new generation of filmmakers.
One of those voices currently making an impact is Jane Schoenbrun. With only two features under their belt, Schoenbrun has already established themself as one of contemporary cinema’s most distinctive filmmakers. With 2024’s I Saw the TV Glow, they not only showcased a singular thematic voice but also their affection for the entertainment of yesteryear, drawing inspiration from shows like Are You Afraid of the Dark? and The Adventures of Pete & Pete. So what would Schoenbrun’s follow-up be? Their very own slasher, of course.
Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is an ’80s horror fan’s wet dream. Marrying Sunset Boulevard, Bound, and Friday the 13th, the film delivers a brutally horny, unsettling, and often fascinating deconstruction of the slasher genre. Yet for all its subversion, Schoenbrun’s voice remains unmistakably their own, allowing Camp Miasma to simultaneously challenge and celebrate a genre that has long served as both an escape and a vehicle for sexual discovery.
Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma follows a queer filmmaker handed the keys to a beloved slasher franchise, only for the production to become something far stranger and more personal. Hoping to recapture the magic of the original film, she becomes fixated on bringing back the actress who played its legendary final girl. What unfolds is less a traditional horror story and more a fever dream of obsession, awakening, and artistic identity that steadily blurs the line between reality and fantasy.
Schoenbrun’s love for the genre and the era of video nasties and slashers is on full display throughout Camp Miasma. Aided by Eric Yue’s cinematography, the film possesses an authenticity that makes it feel as though it was pulled straight from a video store shelf in the mid-1980s. The attention to detail that Yue and Schoenbrun bring to recreating the decade’s aesthetic cannot be overstated, extending even to an opening credit sequence that chronicles the highs and lows of the fictional franchise in a manner reminiscent of the roller-coaster journey of the Friday the 13th series throughout the 1980s.
With that foundation in place, Schoenbrun’s screenplay is free to explore themes of identity and self-acceptance. Much like their previous work, Camp Miasma centers on characters struggling to feel comfortable in their own skin. From Billy Preston, the reclusive “Norma Desmond” final girl of the original Miasma, to Kris, Schoenbrun crafts layered characters while employing Lynchian surrealism with an audacious confidence that proves utterly intoxicating.
Elevating these themes are two sensational performances from Gillian Anderson and Hannah Einbinder. The duo’s chemistry is electric, with the sexual tension between them practically leaping off the screen. Feeding off one another’s energy, Anderson delivers a performance that is simultaneously vulnerable and alluring, while Einbinder expertly balances Kris’ sexual insecurities with moments of sharp, often hilarious humor. Whenever the two share the screen, it’s nearly impossible to look away.
Jack Haven, reuniting with Schoenbrun following I Saw the TV Glow, is equally impressive as Little Death, the film’s Jason Voorhees surrogate. Beyond embodying the brutal camp of the film’s slasher sequences, Haven is also responsible for some of Camp Miasma‘s most surreal imagery, including a memorable homage to Videodrome that has lingered in my mind long after the credits rolled.
Like the slashers that inspired it, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma understands that horror has always been about more than the body count. Beneath the blood, sex, and surrealism lies a film deeply interested in identity, desire, and the ways we see ourselves reflected in art. While Camp Miasma is undeniably a love letter to the era of video nasties and slasher icons, it never feels trapped by nostalgia. Instead, Schoenbrun uses the genre’s familiar framework to create something wholly their own. Bold, provocative, and utterly hypnotic, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is not only one of the year’s best films, but further proof that Schoenbrun is among the most exciting filmmakers working today.
