What we see on the screen in our formative years leaves a lasting impression. Movies and television are some of our first experiences with societal expectations and sexual conditioning. Horror is a genre that is known for exploring these themes through violence and passion, and “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is no exception.
Beneath its veneer as a queer, surrealist take on slasher films, “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is not so quietly teeming with questions surrounding desire and shame.
What developmental role does the media play in shaping desire? How does that affect our self-image, as well as our ability to engage with intimacy later in life?
Director Jane Shoenbrun gives audiences the chance to face these questions without forcing an answer. While they never shied away from confronting the dynamic between media, sexuality and repression in their two previous films, “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is completely uninhibited in a new way.
The plot follows filmmaker Kriss Williams (Hannah Einbinder), who is tasked with reviving the fictional 80s slasher franchise, “Camp Miasma.” As part of Kriss’ research into rehabilitating the franchise through a more modern lens, she meets the reclusive actress Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson), who played the original final girl in the first movie, before abruptly retiring from acting.
Kriss quickly becomes enamored with Billy, and much to the chagrin of her manager, insists that Billy should be the lead of the next “Camp Miasma” movie.
Throughout the film, Kriss struggles to reconcile her love of the Camp Miasma movies with her awareness of their outdated themes and problematic depiction of the gender-fluid villain known as “Little Death.”
The name is a clever reference to the French phrase “la petite mort,” a euphemism for orgasm that directly translates to “the little death.” This reference coincides with the film’s exploration of vulnerability and intimacy through its portrayal of sex and death, thematically embracing the connection between fear and pleasure.
Kriss and Billy bond over their complicated feelings surrounding the franchise, and the relationship between the two women serves as the film’s catalyst for an introspective and highly psychosexual analysis of media and self-acceptance. They find connection and liberation in their shared exploration of sexual expression, culminating in a beautiful, albeit gory, ending.
Rating: 4/5