Jane Schoenbrun, perhaps the most prominent trans+ filmmaker at the moment (Pic: WikiMedia Commons)
Desire, fear and finding yourself through media—these are the themes of new meta-slasher film, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma.
Drenched in fake blood, stars Hannah Einbinder and Gillian Anderson walk hand in hand through a surprisingly comical and sweet story that pays homage to the emotional power of even the trashiest of horror franchises.
Einbinder plays Kris, a young, queer film director whose success has seen her hired to reboot the Camp Miasma slasher franchise with a “woke” sheen.
Camp Miasma calls back to 1983’s Sleepaway Camp, in the same vein as Friday the Thirteenth—and their many, dubious sequels. This is the world of relentless, unkillable killers and innocent final girls.
Anderson brings her unique charm to Billy Presley, the now reclusive star of the original film. Anderson’s own committed fanbase adds another meta-level to the character.
Kris goes in search of Billy to try to convince her to return.
Their meeting—at the abandoned camp where the films were made—becomes a journey of queer desire and self-realisation.
Director Jane Schoenbrun is perhaps the most prominent trans+ filmmaker right now. Their last film, I Saw the TV Glow, was an emotional warning of the destructive toll of denying your true identity.
Camp Miasma is a dreamier and lighter experience, which had me—and the huge audience at my screening—smiling all the way through.
What both films share is a love of horror. There is a well-established LGBT+ audience for the horror genre.
For a queer spectator, the experience can be quite different, despite the ingrained misogyny and transphobia of the genre—especially slashers. When marginalised groups are made monstrous, who is truly the villain?
At Camp Miasma, the killer is Little Death—played by Jack Haven—a trans+ teen bullied to the end of their tether.
In one of my favourite sequences, we see Little Death on a killing spree, slashing their way through their tormentors one by one with a spear, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer cutting a swathe through the forces of evil.
Camp Miasma’s dream logic interweaves the past, the present, “reality” and film, building towards an exhilarating breakthrough for Kris.
Is this a horror film? Yes and no. It celebrates the intertwined history of horror and queerness, with joy, playfulness—and absolutely no shame.
