Director: Jane Schoenbrun
Cast: Hannah Einbinder, Gillian Anderson, Jack Haven, Patrick Fischler
Screenplay: Jane Schoenbrun
112 mins. Rated R for bloody violence, gore, sexual content, graphic nudity, drug use and some language.

If nothing else, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma has finally shown the world that KFC can be incredibly erotic. Don’t tell Colonel Sanders.

The Camp Miasma franchise is getting a modern reboot with indie director Kris Williams (Hannah Einbinder) at the helm. The franchise, known for some controversy pertaining to its seemingly anti-trans themes, was once popular, but a string of increasingly worse sequels has left its viability uncertain without a modern reframing. Her major task is the origin story of Little Death (played by Jack Haven, Bombshell) but she also hopes to get the approval and potential appearance of the original film’s legendary scream queen, Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson, Tron: Ares). Kris heads to the location of the original film, now owned by Presley, and over the course of the next few days, Kris’s preconceived notions of the iconic and reclusive star are tested, as are her own sexual reservations.

While I enjoyed director Jane Schoenbrun’s previous film, I Saw the TV Glow, I feel as though it made the mistake of turning its subtext into the actual text by the end and leaving its finale a bit less impactful than the 90 minutes that preceded it. Those structural issues are more prevalent in this film, and a lot of Schoenbrun is trying to convey gets lost in a narrative that never fully makes good of its inception and promise. It’s clear that Schoenbrun has an affinity for the horror genre, and like many of use horror fans who grew up glued to the TV or theater screen to catch the next slasher sequel, there’s a love and attention to the material (with clear inspirations from Friday the 13th and Sleepaway Camp), but most of that falls away as the narrative shambles on and, by the end, the story Schoenbrun wants to tell gets lost in a sea of ideas that feel collectively undercooked.

Einbinder and Anderson are both excellent in their roles, and their conjoined chemistry is quite strong. Einbinder’s portrayal of a director tasked with resurrecting a Zombie IP in a way that feels inauthentic to their intention is commendable and complex. It’s especially powerful considering how much of the horror genre has been ingrained in their sexual DNA. So many horror fans encountered sexuality in horror at a young age, confused and uncertain about its eventual role in their lives. That collision alongside the idol worship of Presley make for a pretty fascinating character arc that unfortunately doesn’t stick the landing, but I can see what Schoenbrun is trying to tackle with the character, and the way some of us can get lost in the filmmaking and forget that we used to get lost in the film, and how that awakening comes at the feet of Presley.

Anderson is clearly having fun in the role of an iconic scream queen, with initial shades of true life-Shelley Duvall falling away to give her a mentorlike role, and she’s chewing the dialogue and scenery in an enjoyable way. She’s a bit too pidgeonholed to really let loose, but what she’s doing is pretty fantastic all the same.

I think Schoenbrun was simply tacking too much onto this film, an arguably great looking low-budget piece that seeks to view the intersectional relationship of queerness and cultural monsters, much like Kris. There’s also the idea of our main character struggling with sexual comfort trying to unravel the intrinsically linked aspects of horror and sexuality, which feels heavy-handedly demonstrated with Little Death (translated from the French term for “Orgasm”), and the feeling of euphoria that comes with each of Little Death’s slayings. It’s also chock full of references to horror franchises (my favorites being in the opening credits covering the Camp Miasma films and the character by Patrick Fischler feeling very much like Crazy Ralph). The ingredients are all there, but they aren’t brought together in a satisfying way. At the end, I’m sad to say that I was more deflated than impressed.

Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma had so much promise, but in the end, I don’t think it delivered on that. It’s a movie that’s almost good, and one that I still feel the draw to revisit someday down the road because the ambition that Schoenbrun brings is admirable, and I wanted to like this movie more than I actually did. Still, it has some dedicated performances that elevate the material, and there’s endless style on display, even if the screenplay missed the mark in a pretty big way. If you’re on the fence, it’s might be worth checking out, but I was ultimately disappointed.

2½/5
-Kyle A. Goethe