If you thought SCREAM was meta, just wait for Camp Miasma! Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is the latest horror film from acclaimed director Jane Schoenbrun. Given the ambiguous, metaphorical nature of their previous film, I Saw the TV Glow, it was difficult to manage expectations. That title proved very divisive among the horror community despite being considered a minor masterpiece in some circles. This follow-up may prove to be even more love it or hate it. In a way, it requires an extensive horror knowledge, or at least a familiarity with 80s splatterfests. Yet for newcomers, the opening credits alone create their own hyper-realistic franchise world akin to Friday the 13th. In mere minutes, we cycle through decades of the fictional Camp Miasma franchise and its problematic cultural relevance. However, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is a totally different kind of monster from the fictional slasher franchise in this universe. Viewers can expect to reflect on their own relationship with horror as a whole, and the way cinema make them feel. The experience certainly isn’t surface-level, so keep that in mind if you prefer a more easily palatable brand of horror. Wildly original and gorgeously made, Camp Miasma is an instant modern classic that pits film lovers against their innermost desires.
When tasked with remaking the zombified IP (intellectual property) that is Camp Miasma, queer director Kris (Hannah Einbinder) takes the job very seriously. This means meeting up with the original series’ final girl, Billy, played by The X-Files alum Gillian Anderson. Kris travels all the way to some unknown coordinates in order to get her Camp Miasma remake off the ground. The studio wants a “woke” origin story, but what they may get will be decidedly different. The journey brings Kris back to the original filming site of the first Camp Miasma, where, of course, Billy lives for some wild reason. While the situation is already meta within the movie’s own context, the layers of meta keep increasing by the minute. By the time we reach the bloody conclusion, there are so many layers that a second watch will be mandatory to absorb it all. The script from Schoenbrun is perfectly executed, and its two-way character work creates a compelling focal point. The dynamic between potential director and final girl should be enough for any horror fan to take notice.
As Kris, Hannah Einbinder puts in a completely otherworldly performance that asks her to do much of the heavy lifting with expressions alone. Gillian Anderson is equally captivating, bringing a mysterious quality to Billy that makes it difficult to ever completely understand her intentions. The dialogue layers in context about Camp Miasma, yet also builds out an identity all its own in the process. The kills are over the top and cartoonishly gory, and vent-masked killer Little Death has a striking appearance. Perhaps a new horror icon has been born, further evidenced by an after-credits scene that appears to tease future installments in a potential franchise. Still, the veritable point is to assess our relationships with media, and how they shape our identities into the adults we eventually become. I related to this on such a deep level, with the Scream franchise being a major life staple since the age of six, when I first watched it way too young.
Any franchise freak will find something here, but whether they are willing to look inside and open themselves up to the film’s oddities is another story. There’s a whole tangent about dipping sauces that had my audience roaring in laughter, and they all seemed in on the joke when it came to the film’s numerous genre references and its stabs at slasher structure. Schoenbrun isn’t simply poking fun at these familiar conventions either; they are examining why we return to them again and again. Gillian Anderson and Hannah Einbinder sell every second of the zany twists and turns.
The one-shot sequence where Little Death unleashes a massacre of carnage set to Counting Crows tune “A Long December” stands tall as one of 2026’s best horror sequences. This type of decadent style and over-the-top nature that sets the film apart. Instead of going for visceral scares or gnarly realism, the message takes center stage, accompanied by the delectable character work and the sexual awakening at its core. Long stretches are devoted to desire and an eroticism not often dissected or discussed within horror.
This is another movie from Jane Schoenbrun told with a distinct perspective that only they could have written. It also shows great promise for them as a filmmaker, utilizing such skills as split-diopter shots, hand-painted landscapes, and a lush attention to detail. Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma understands the iconography and formula of the slasher well enough to completely dismantle it, only to piece it back together into something strange and horny. While leaving the door open for more, Jane Schoenbrun proves that their stunning slasher viewpoint—and Little Death themselves—are here to stay. Are you still hungry for more?
Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is running rampant through a meta chase scene, now in theaters everywhere.
