As John Waters once famously said, “life is nothing if you’re not obsessed”, which may sound like just another witty quip from the famously quotable iconoclast, but in reality speaks to something much deeper and more profound when it comes to the global culture. Obsession is the single most important element of any kind of artistic endeavour, since only those who allow a particular subject to envelope their mind to the point where it is all they can think about for a specific period of time are able to produce works that stand the test of time, which is why it remains a very valuable commodity, albeit one that is still not entirely understood – in fact, the negative connotation that accompanies it can sometimes derail the unquestionable power of allowing something to become all-encompassing as you set out to explore the inner depths of your imagination. It’s hardly surprising that Jane Schoenbrun has been cited as an heir apparent to Waters, perhaps not so much as a result of any stylistic or thematic similarities in their work, but rather in how they have spent the past few years slowly building a career in which the subject of obsession in its various forms takes centre stage. In We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, they looked towards the generation raised on the internet, where anonymity allowed many young people to seek out gratification for their deepest desires, and in I Saw the TV Glow, they took aim at nostalgia in the form of a young individual who found comfort in the mysterious layers of television show as a means to work through their own complex gender identity. Schoenbrun’s third film follows a similar trajectory, with Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma looking at a subject that fits in perfectly with what the director has been attempting to achieve since they emerged half a decade ago, and in the process turns out to be perhaps their strongest film to date, a masterful blend of so many different genres, tones and styles that all come together to form one of the year’s most daring achievements, a film that challenges and provokes just as much as it enthralls and delights, being an idiosyncratic leap into the inner depths of the human mind. It is all carefully curated by an artist whose entire RD has been to push the boundaries of a craft that they adore, showing that there is still room for originality in an industry that has become overly reliant on the same tropes, which Schoenbrun single-handedly dismantles throughout this astonishing piece of filmmaking.

One of the first pieces of information we learned about Schoenbrun (regardless of when we came to be introduced to their work) is that they are an enormous devotee of horror in all of its forms, with all three of their films being tributes to the genre in some way, even if the kind of horror being explored is not always the most conventional. Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is, first and foremost, a tribute to the low-budget slasher films that defined the childhoods of many millennials, those cheaply-produced films in which ordinary people find themselves the victim of one or more psychopathic killer that aims to annihilate each one of them, leading to a confrontation between the last survivor (which is where the “final girl” trope comes from) and the villain, who usually ends up only temporarily being defeated, since there is always a tendency to extend a story as long as possible, especially when money is involved. This is primarily where we find this film starting its discussion, which turns out to be far smarter and more insightful than many of us may have initially anticipated, which is all part of its brilliance. It takes special skill to be able to turn your film into th very thing that you are lampooning, and through a very careful approach to how they look at the slasher genre, Schoenbrun crafts something that functions as both a cultural critique on the horror genre, as well as a tremendous slasher film in its own right, the tug-of-war between these two narrative strands leading to a very intriguing bundle of ideas that are fully explored in the film. From this small idea, we find that Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma grows into a vicious satire of the current state of Hollywood, which has become a parody of itself, to the point where it is driven by the idea that only reboots, remakes and revivals are worth the time and money, since they can’t fathom audiences becoming enthusiastic about something that isn’t expressly defned as being based on existing work. The idea of a slasher film built around a young filmmaker who is enlisted to bring a long-dormant (and frankly mostly unsuccessful) franchise to the 21st century, through filtering it through a contemporary lens of queerness and feminist issues, leads to a smart and insightful satire, and one that is pulled from Schoenbrun’s own experiences having been offered multiple reboots of classic horror franchises. It’s a loving tribute, but one that is not against some playful ribbing when it is required, with the director being entirely aware of the nuances of the genre, enough to make a film that functions as both a loving tribute and merciless satire in equal measure.

However, as we’ve come to learn from Schoenbrun and many of their peers in this ongoing movement towards a kind of horror that is not merely inclined towards having deeper meaning (usually referred to be the atrocious term “elevated horror”, which is a tacky way to describe entries into the genre that refuse to abide by conventions), but also redefining the genre through a more daring postmodern lens. As we’d expect, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is a film built on a solid foundation of queer theory, with the director infusing every frame of the film with the kind of subversive commentary that has become part of their conceptual brand. The particular avenue that Schoenbrun is traversing here is the relationship between two people from across generations – one a faded film star who has decided to rest on her laurels to the point of becoming a recluse (your legacy can’t be tarnished if you remain out of public view, even if it means fame is something that can be considered in the past tense in this particular case), the other a young upstart who has allowed her growing obsession to fester into something much deeper and more profound. It’s a fascinating way to examine the relationship between two women, each one awakening something dormant in the other, revealing layers of psychological complexity that is definitive of a lot of contemporary queer cinema, especially the kind that is built around desire in all of its various forms. The horror genre is not always the most romantic, and it would probably be selling this film short to consider it a particularly romantic film (although the manner in which the film ends leaves very little room for ambiguity as far as what the director intended to communicate, an unexpectedly beautiful moment of succumbing to one’s desires) – but in its capacity as a film that sets out to explore the growing friendship between two people who come from entirely different worlds, one a remnant of a past that no longer exists, the other a representative of a controversial and derided image of the present, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma manages to be incredibly insightful as a story of two people who discover common ground, realising that they are each vital in their respective paths towards healing. It sounds awfully saccharine for a slasher film, but it is in this perspective that we discover just how ingenious Schoenbrun’s approach is to unravelling the layers of complexity that surround queerness, identity and desires, using a very common genre as the vessel for these fascinating and provocative conversations.

Schoenbrun is the rare kind of artist who both knows how to evoke a specific kind of nostalgia, while also have a firm grasp on the collective cultural pulse, to the point where they can capture the zeitgeist in a way that feels earnest and relevant without ever pandering to the audience or presenting something that is merely an attempt at pleasing viewers. As a result, we find that Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma finds a lot of its brilliance in the casting of the two lead roles, who are portrayed by a pair of actors who we may not have expected to see engaging in a game of slightly erotic cat-and-mouse on screen, but who prove to be absolutely extraordinary, collaborating closely with the director to evoke the central meaning behind the film. Hannah Einbinder has more than proven herself to represent the future of the industry, with her work on Hacks going from playing the mildly amusing second banana across from the titanic comedic masterclass delivered by Jean Smart, to becoming one of the show’s covert treasures. It became very clear that she’d have an exceptional career even after that show came to a close, and while the part of Kris Williams, a rambunctious young filmmaker attempting to find her voice in a convoluted industry, in Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma may seem somewhat in the same vein as her performance as a comedy writer trying to make it in the industry, there’s some incredible nuances that tie her performance together, especially since there are layers to what she is asked to do, such as constant self-reflection and the gradual descent into a kind of quiet madness that eventually consumes her, that proves to be quite different from what we’ve seen Einbinder do in the past. It also helps that she is cast across from Gillian Anderson, an extraordinarily gifted performer who has not met a character she hasn’t embraced with every fibre of her being. In her role as NAME, Anderson plays to the rafters in the most delightful way possible, a performance that is best described as Dolly Parton playing Norma Desmond by way of David Lynch, which begins to encapsulate the extraordinary madness contained in her work. Schoenbrun is known for putting their actors through the emotional wringer, but in a way that challenges them without pushing them too far, and rather allowing them to take on characters that are entirely original but also very much drawn from their own interpretation of the parts. Considering both Einbinder and Anderson are independently brilliant, while also having exceptional chemistry (as this film would not have worked had we not wholeheartedly believed in the mutual obsession held by these two characters), it’s safe to say that Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma achieves everything it intended as far as these characters are concerned, developing a complex dynamic between two peculiar women who prove to be exceptionally compatible, for better or worse.

To bring all of this ambition and complex ideas to life on screen, Schoenbrun does not rely solely on their actors, but also draws on decades of films that served as their inspiration, paying tribute to everything from classical melodrama to unhinged slasher horror. It’s an ambitious approach, but one that we immediately find to be well within the director’s grasp, as they’ve never been one to avoid a challenge. From the first moment, we notice the astonishing amount of detail that went into the film from a purely aesthetic perspective – the bold colours, unique framing and incredible production design immerses us in an uncanny version of reality, one that is recognisable enough that we aren’t pulled away from the realm of the plausible, but where everything is slightly off-kilter, not functioning in quite the way that we would expect. This creates an atmosphere from which the director can introduce many different ideas, each one bringing with it a unique tone that adds to the ongoing construction of this vibrant mosaic of complex themes. Schoenbrun has been adamant in wanting to make a film that wasn’t only unsettling, but also playful, and this is achieved in multiple different ways. Visually and aurally, we see some fascinating choices – the bright colours contrast with the sinister tone, being heavily inspired by classic horror cinema in which everything was so much bigger and more elaborate. There is no reason for authenticity in such a film, and Schoenbrun embraces the absurdity – the violence is cartoonish, and the emotions are extremely broad, but in neither case do they come across as tacky or manipulative, instead settling into a more idiosyncratic tone that gives Schoenbrun the space to be more experimental with certain elements. One of the more surprising aspects of Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma comes from this sense of playfulness, since after two consecutive films that many consider to be exceptionally bleak and harrowing (personally, I would use the term “soul-destroying” as a more appropriate description), Schoenbrun makes a film that is, at its very core, an outrageous comedy. There are many moments of deep melancholy and profound horror, but they occur in between some of the most irreverent, off-the-wall storytelling imaginable, with the writing being exceptionally sharp (there are certain lines in this film that are destined to be adopted into the cultural lexicon, especially in how the two actors deliver them) and the handle of the emotional content being a masterful blend of so many different tones. Schoenbrun truly sets out to do something different with this film, and while some of the bigger swings may not work for some viewers who prefer their satire to be a bit more subtle, there’s no doubt that Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma has a very distinct identity that is perfectly encapsulated in every frame of the film.

The brilliance of a film like Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is that each viewer will be able to know within a couple of minutes if this film is going to be to their taste, since the director is evidently aware of the fact that they’re making something that is not going to appeal to everyone, so rather than attempting to make something that can be universally embraced, they choose instead to highlight some of its more eccentric qualities from the very start, and then gradually unraveling them to form something deeper and far more profound in the process. It’s an exceptional example of self-aware filmmaking, and all the more proof that Schoenbrun represents the future of the industry in a way that is nothing if not wholeheartedly exciting. There are so many complex narrative and thematic strands that make up this film, to the point where even if we may not be able to relate to the themes of gender, identity and unquenchable desire, there is always going to be something that draws us into this film. It’s a brilliantly engaging work that knows precisely how to capture our attention through piecing together a few fascinating ideas and allowing them to bloom into this thrilling, captivating blend of slasher horror, romantic melodrama and satirical dark comedy, each one of these flirtations with genre being an essential component of something incredibly effective and entirely engrossing, It seems like every film built around queerness has to follow a very particular narrative structure, so it is beyond refreshing to find a film that openly derides the idea of following certain conventions, choosing instead to be a layered, intentionally confusing work in which the answers are rarely provided, and we are instead drawn into a version of the world that is far more complex and confusing, where nothing makes sense and instead we rely on the smallest and most intricate details to understand the general meaning of what is being said. In between these more abstract moments, we have a film that also functions as a genuinely moving tribute to the horror genre as it used to be, where it was very common to find these cheaply made slasher films that were about as far from realistic as they could get, but which were nonetheless always thrilling, even at their most conventional. It all adds up to a film that knows exactly how to draw our attention, being an intricately-woven masterpiece of tone, story and structure, being as aesthetically captivating as it is narratively enticing, blurring the boundaries between these complex ideas with a fervent dedication that is entirely enthralling and all the more reason to celebrate the absolute ingenuity of Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma and the astonishing imagination of its creator, who once again proves to be an entirely essential voice in contemporary cinema.