Teenage Sex And Death At Camp Miasma sees Jane Schoenbrun build their own metaslasher masterpiece

“My work explores the intersections of queerness and cultural depictions of monstrosity,” Kris tells Billy, and Schoenbrun tells their audience. As in the original Scream, she rants brilliantly (and accurately) about the current state of cinema, horror sequels, box office woes, studio shareholders, IP obsessions, and the skeletons in every franchise’s closet. “This part is transphobic,” she performatively announces to Billy when they’re watching Camp Miasma and it details Little Death’s trans origin story in an incredibly outdated way. “Shut up,” Billy barks back. She doesn’t care about any of that. She wants Kris to feel her work, to understand her characters on a level that unlocks something new for the prodigious director. As it turns out, Kris wants the same thing, and she’ll spend the rest of the wildly meta film hunting for it. 

The result is breathtaking, hilarious, and unforgettable. It’s also Schoenbrun’s way of showing us what they would’ve done with an umpteenth Jason Voorhees, Freddy Kreuger, or other such resurrection while still getting to create the more academic, thematically dense, and autobiographical “private alternate reality” for themselves that they dreamt up—and that studios would never take on, much less believe in. The set of Camp Miasma, which doubles as Camp Tivoli, the main location for Teenage Sex And Death—where Kris finds Billy has been living—has a gorgeous, painterly pastel aesthetic brimming with pinks, purples, and dreamsicle oranges. Schoenbrun doesn’t shy away from the fact that the backgrounds are clearly gigantic paintings, at times framing mediums and closeups that reveal the texture of the painting that’s otherwise treated like a fantastical but real woodsy nature setting in wide shots. They bring to mind the luminous detail of peak Tim Burton or Brian De Palma matte paintings. They also provide another layer of depth to the metanarrative in which reality and the artifice of cinematic storytelling blend into an inseparable whole.

It’ll be a longshot for anyone to outmatch the sheer ingenuity on display in camera technique, editing, tone, and style, which are all so singularly Schoenbrun that you’d think they’re an assured auteur who’s been making movies professionally for at least twenty years, not five. Instead of mastering a style, like the slasher, as so many great directors have, Schoenbrun creates their own cinema dense with lore and ingenuity. Across three films, they have established a directorial style that is original yet steeped in cinema history, contemporary indie music, and modern art up to the neck, as unafraid to pull from their favorite filmmakers or techniques as they are to rise above them. Alex G returns for his third score for Schoenbrun, and the perfectly picked needledrops compliment his work to a tee. One moment in particular, set to Counting Crows’ “A Long December,” is particularly inspired. There’s no doubt that the films Schoenbrun is making—Teenage Sex And Death the best among them—make up a cinema of change, one that has the superpower to enact it in real life after the credits have rolled.

In making a film about “watching one’s self from outside themselves,” it seems Schoenbrun successfully challenged and inspired all of their lead creatives to do the same, including Einbinder, who is fantastic in her first leading film role. Lavish with cultural references and fresh imagination, Teenage Sex And Death At Camp Miasma is a revelry of comedy, murder, intellectualism, sexual awakening, queerness, and more. As if they hadn’t already proven it with I Saw The TV Glow, Schoenbrun proves yet again that they’re the rare filmmaker that chooses to push the medium forward instead of taking a fat check, with the confidence that the industry and viewers alike will all be better off for it.

Director: Jane Schoenbrun
Writer: Jane Schoenbrun
Starring: Hannah Einbinder, Gillian Anderson
Release Date: August 7, 2026