‘Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma’ turns slasher tropes inward

Gillian Anderson (left) and Hannah Einbinder in a scene from “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” [AP Photo]

It was an unexpected turn of events after seeing Jane Schoenbrun’s buzzy third feature, “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma.” Suddenly, after nearly 30 years of not thinking about the Counting Crows, their 1996 ballad “A Long December” was firmly stuck in my head — and it wouldn’t go away.

The film itself, a playful pastiche of shlocky slasher movies and a send-up of Hollywood’s reboot culture, didn’t leave me especially transported at first. It seemed made for film snobs and critics, flattering insider knowledge, niche fandoms and an unabashed love of bad movies — a self-conscious cult classic in the making. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that song and the strangely sublime sequence that accompanies it.

“A Long December” was so ubiquitous when I was 12 or 13 that I barely noticed it. I had no nostalgia for it; it was simply always there. Yet in “Camp Miasma,” where it underscores a pivotal moment of carnage and catharsis, I fell in love with it. For weeks, it has been playing on repeat in my head. That might seem like an oddly small detail, but it became my way back into a movie so personal to its filmmaker that it’s difficult to know where to begin.

Schoenbrun, the most high-profile trans director working today, embeds much of the heartbreak, horror and humor of that experience into “Camp Miasma.” Hannah Einbinder stars as Kris, a Sundance breakout hired to reboot the fictional 1980s horror franchise and eager to recruit its original final girl, Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson).

Kris is unmistakably a Schoenbrun stand-in, from the Sundance success to the styling and glasses. There’s a cruel irony in the fact that Kris, who is queer, inherits a franchise notorious for its transphobic mythology. The killer, Little Death (Jack Haven), is a murdered trans kid who rises from a lake to slaughter campers. Yet Kris remains drawn to the series despite — and perhaps because of — its troubling legacy.

Billy, played in flashbacks by Amanda Fix, has retreated to the camp where the original film was shot. Anderson portrays the older Billy as a flamboyant, Norma Desmond-like recluse in jeweled turbans, silk robes and furs. It’s an eccentric performance that leans fully into the film’s heightened camp.

Little in “Camp Miasma” is meant to feel realistic. Instead, it’s a collage of feelings, horror tropes, pop culture and beloved character actors, including Patrick Fischler, Dylan Baker, Eva Victor and Zach Cherry. Eventually, viewers find themselves watching much of the original fictional “Camp Miasma” alongside Kris and Billy before both realities blur into a wild climax.

This is not really a grisly slasher. The killings are cartoonish, with blood erupting from necks like geysers. Instead, it’s a carefully constructed fever dream that wears its high- and lowbrow influences proudly. The result is a bold continuation of Schoenbrun’s exploration of identity and transition through the language of cinema and pop culture.

Now, excuse me, I have to go listen to “A Long December” again.

[Abridged]

LINDSEY BAHR, MDT/AP Film Writer

“Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma,” a Mubi release in limited release Friday, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for “bloody violence, gore, sexual content, graphic nudity, drug use and some language.” Running time: 106 minutes. ★★★★