Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma Review: Jane Schoenbrun's Meta-Slasher Finds Catharsis in its Kills
Images courtesy of Madman Entertainment.
Writer-director Jane Schoenbrun’s approach to horror is akin to cinematic time travel. In their lo-fi indie We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, they examined the modern day phenomenon of internet creepypastas. A few years later, they riffed on nostalgic ’90s monster-of-the-week TV like Buffy the Vampire Slayer in their trans coming-of-age hit I Saw The TV Glow. And with Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, Schoenbrun completes this informal ‘Screen Trilogy’ with a brain-melting send-up of the slasher craze of the ‘80s.
In a snappy opening title sequence, Schoenbrun introduces us to the fictional Camp Miasma franchise, melding the gruesome sexploitation of Friday the 13th with the transphobic iconography of Sleepaway Camp. Much like Jason Voorhees, Camp Miasma’s androgynous villain Little Death (Jack Haven) has been long dormant after a string of under-performing sequels and lesbian filmmaker Kris (Hannah Einbinder) is tasked with resurrecting him by cynical studio execs. Determined to find a meaningful artistic angle for the reboot, Kris tracks down the first film’s elusive final girl Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson) and discovers that Camp Miasma’s bloody legacy may be more real than previously thought.
To reveal any more about the film’s audacious twists and turns would be a mistake – suffice to say that Schoenbrun’s script takes the most meta route possible, and then some. It’s also not a spoiler to highlight the on-the-nose metaphor of ‘Little Death’, which plays a central role in a film concerned with the complexities and contradictions of female desire. Here, the slasher genre is a framing device for a deeply personal examination of the swirling currents of misogyny, shame and stigma around lesbian sex. It’s a confident reclamation of sexuality post-transition, ultimately reaching a kinky and ecstatic climax – in every sense of the word.
If this sounds relentlessly academic, there’s plenty of material pleasures for any horror fan to savour; as Billy puts it so succinctly, ‘flesh and fluids’. Returning cinematographer Eric Yue flexes his eye for long takes in a gnarly retro sequence of Little Death on the rampage, while production designers Brandon Tonner O’Connolly and Matt Hyland fill every pastel-hued frame with easter eggs and jokey nods to horror history. Especially noteworthy is the gorgeous set design, reliant on hand-painted matte backgrounds instead of glossy CGI. Einbinder’s cringe comedy chops pair well with a strange and soulful performance by Anderson, who adopts a hammy Southern accent that heightens the off-kilter atmosphere.
Gorehounds will no doubt be disappointed by the expressionist Gondry-esque kills, favouring ketchup-red explosions over realistic blood and guts; meanwhile, fans of Schoenbrun’s previous films may balk at the sillier tone of this new outing, more stoner comedy than self-loathing nightmare. But it’s difficult to regard this as anything but a triumph for independent filmmaking: a maverick trans director getting the stars and budget to realise their genuinely bold and original vision, built off the ashes of failed franchises. It’s a one-of-a-kind summer horror, something that no corporate hivemind could ever dream up.
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Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma opens in Australian cinemas on Thursday the 6th of August. For tickets and more info, click here.