What I love more than anything about writer/director Jane Schoenbrun’s films is that I largely do not understand them. That is a sincere compliment! They aren’t baffling in the sense of being poorly made or confusing. They are befuddling because of how concretely they encase me inside an experience so far outside of my own.

Like, I completely “get” that Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is about desire. The main character literally writes it down and underlines it. That was probably for me… But Schoenbrun’s connection between queer awakening and 1980s slasher flicks doesn’t immediately jab at my personal nostalgia button.

Miasma mocks Hollywood’s obsession with said button, nakedly stating that it is not only the laziest way to make art but a shallow way to consume it. Even the flimsiest, goriest, goofiest movie should be made with an authenticity. You don’t need to remake Psycho, but if you do, remake it from the “shower curtain’s perspective.”

The latter is literally what Kris (Hannah Einbinder) did. Having directed an artsy-fartsy partial homage to the Hitchcock classic, she landed a gig rebooting the Camp Miasma series. The “zombie IP” had long laid dormant, in part because of its wildly problematic trans content. And everyone knows that you can’t be involved with problematic trans content and still make movies and stuff. J.K.

Kris wants to get Billy (Gillian Anderson), the original “final girl” from the first Miasma movie, to return for the reboot. The actress didn’t return for any of the countless other sequels and is now a recluse literally living in the former summer camp that served as the setting for the horror flicks. The killer in those movies, named “Little Death” (Jack Haven), wears an air vent as a mask and prefers to skewer people with a spear. Said mass murderer may or may not “really” be living in the lake near where Billy lives.

Among the only references that immediately jumped out to me was the fact that la petite mort is a French literary euphemism for an orgasm. See, mom and dad, grad school wasn’t a waste! Schoenbrun has this nonchalantly sophisticated way of making obvious connections veer into shocking depths. Beyond the name of the murderer, there are explicit “meta” moments when Little Death cosmically summons and births each installment in his franchise.

That’s where things get deliciously dense. Schoenbrun weaves and tangles the connections surrounding the Jason Voorhees stand-in. He is being created by a director who is being created by a director but is also a director created others. It is a Russian nesting doll of audience and author.

Then there is Billy and Kris exploring an observation/observing loop that explodes into violent chaos that is terrifying but also known to be simulated and safe. Whereas queer audiences likely experience a familiarity with the discovery on display, like it did with I Saw the TV Glow, it just washes over me like a flood of feeling. I don’t “get” it. But I get it.

Oh, and that it took this long to get here is unconscionable: This movie is hilarious. Not “someone snaps off a one-liner” funny. Not “whoa this is all so wacky and surreal” funny. Not “B-movie spoof” funny. Set-up punchlines abound. Character-based comedy erupts. Observational humor explodes. It is, quite frankly, more of a comedy than it is anything else. And a great one.

What a delight it is to trundle through Schoenbrun’s mind for a bit. What a treat it is to transcend my typical frame of reference. How fortunate we are to at least not have broken this world quite so much as to lose out on films like Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma. At least so far…

Grade = A

Other Critical Voices to Consider

Kristian Lin at Fort Worth Weekly says “Jane Schoenbrun takes 1990s nostalgia, genre horror, and a dash of Charles Busch’s theatrical camp pastiches (like Vampire Lesbians of Sodom and Psycho Beach Party), and makes something that’s thrillingly new and works as a great many things.”

Sarah G. Vincent says “The geysers of blood against an unreal verdant, arboreal background sets the tone of an organic ornateness that complements the garish, synthetic colors of candy wrappers. Every living space whether a hotel or Billy’s home features the aesthetic of a movie theater.”

Kristy Puchko at Mashable says “Schoenbrun and their cast embrace the ghoulish delights of slasher slaughters, the titillating fun of their teen sex and death, and the radiant joy of finding pleasure in your own body. All this makes Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma a knockout, from its first kill to its final thrill.”