There are several directors who have started coming up through the ranks recently, mostly out of the horror genre, who have clearly unique voices within the field, and I think Jane Schoenbrun is definitely one of those burgeoning auteurs. They last directed I Saw the TV Glow for A24, which, while not necessarily my favorite film of that year, was definitely a stunner and my first interaction with Schoenbrun as a director, as Let’s All Go to the World’s Fair doesn’t have audio description and has kept me at arm’s length from being able to appreciate it. So their third feature, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, which premiered at the 2026 Cannes Film Festival and is now being distributed by MUBI, caught my attention simply by existing. That, and pairing Hannah Einbinder with Gillian Anderson just feels like the right kind of casting. And boy, is it. One of these actresses delivers one of the best performances of the year, and the other delivers a performance so incredibly parallel to the one she’s famous for, it feels like there couldn’t have been another choice for the role.

Hannah Einbinder plays Chris, an up-and-coming queer filmmaker whose last film received a mixed reception but caught enough attention from a team of producers that they’ve tapped her to revive an old ‘80s slasher series called Camp Miasma. The killer in the franchise, called Little Death, stalked their victims, one of whom was Billie, played by Gillian Anderson, the de facto final girl of the franchise. Billie has since quit Hollywood and lives as something of a recluse, interestingly at Camp Miasma, or at least the location where the films were shot. Fitting, considering the film is such a defining feature of her life. Chris is incredibly interested in getting Billie’s perspective, as well as her blessing, on the upcoming Camp Miasma remake, possibly even her participation. Although at the beginning, we’re not 100% sure what Chris’s actual intentions are for the story, and I think she shapes it based on the conversations she has with Billie. The film takes interesting turns, makes bold choices, and relies heavily on the performances of its two lead actresses.

Technically, Hannah is the lead, as the film follows Chris a bit more, but Gillian is the performance everybody will remember. When I said somebody here was perfectly cast because they’re so parallel to something else they’re doing, that’s Hannah. This feels exactly like Ava from Hacks, and not necessarily to her detriment either. If it works, it works. Some people get typecast all the time in relatively similar roles, and Hannah could do worse than being seen as the go-to writer brought in to punch up things that aren’t working and bring a new perspective, which is exactly what Ava does in Hacks for Deborah Vance. Here, the producers are relying on Chris to turn what was an occasionally homophobic and transphobic franchise into something that isn’t problematic for a new generation to invest in. There’s a little bit of a mention of the concept of “woke” and how the existence of such a concept may have influenced the choice to have Chris direct the film, but the film doesn’t inherently harp on specifically pro- or anti-woke messaging. Rather, it’s an exploration of how the queer community often sees themselves represented in horror, even when the genre gives them poor representation in return. Camp Miasma can easily be aligned with real-life franchises like Friday the 13th and Sleepaway Camp, both of which certainly have problematic elements that don’t necessarily hold up today unless you’re the type of person who yearns for the good old days. Chances are, if that’s you, this film isn’t for you.

Einbinder brings almost effortlessly the right amount of ambiguity to Chris in terms of how she navigates our current times as a pansexual, identity-seeking director who has a hard time truly defining what it is about being pansexual that draws her to it. It seems she’s in a relationship with another woman, and that woman is also in a relationship with a guy, but Chris may not necessarily be in a relationship with that guy. So is she really pansexual, or is she just in an open relationship? I’m not really sure Chris knows either. Chris also uses she/they pronouns, not specifically they/them, and you can tell all of this newness fascinates Billie. The introduction to Gillian Anderson’s Billie is magnificent. There’s this almost insane screen-legend approach to it that might remind people of Sunset Boulevard, to which Schoenbrun decides to immediately reference Norma Desmond and get that out of the way, admitting that, yes, that is intentional. If you feel that vibe, then their work is done. But it’s where Billie and Chris go and the things they talk about that really shape the film. Billie has a print they can screen, Chris spends time at Billie’s house absorbing the Camp Miasma experience and learning more about who she is as a person, and all the while we see flashbacks to the original film, including shots from Little Death’s perspective.

Gillian Anderson gives one of my favorite performances of the year, hands down. It’s a performance I hope MUBI at least tries to get into some Best Supporting Actress conversations because Anderson seems to have completely eluded the Oscars, and I would love to see her at least somewhere in proximity to that conversation and getting recognition throughout awards season for what she does here. Even without audio description, I could tell that what Gillian was doing was exactly what she’s been doing for years, flawlessly creating a rich, developed character. If you ever question her acting chops, she was in a rather awful Netflix series a couple months ago called The Abandons and was by far the best thing in it despite a fairly stacked cast. Anderson always seems to rise above, and here there’s nothing to rise above because Schoenbrun’s material is already sharp as a tack. It’s the kind of thing that knows what it’s referencing and knows why it exists. It’s purposefully tipping its hat, much like I Saw the TV Glow did with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Schoenbrun seems to be doing that throughout their films while also weaving in so much of their own personality and style. I’m excited to see what more they have to offer as they continue not just to borrow, but to take these influences and contextualize them into something distinctly their own.

I was offered an opportunity to screen Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, and like nearly every single screener I ever get, it didn’t have audio description, which didn’t come as a shock. What did come as a shock was that I reached out to MUBI, who last year was incredibly helpful in getting me audio description for Die My Love, The Mastermind, and Father Mother Sister Brother. This time around, my contact at MUBI ghosted me, and even the press email at MUBI had nothing to say. Nobody wants to give the blind film critic audio description. It’s this persistent problem. I posted a little while ago in my Small Screen Diaries about feeling discriminated against because so many times I get offered a screener, and when I ask for audio description, I end up not getting the screener. I called out a specific representative recently because I was up to film number four in a row and still hadn’t received any screener requested. It’s my responsibility to ask for the accessibility that I need, but if it can’t be provided, I really just need to know whether it exists. Luckily with this, because it was already in limited release and I knew at least one blind person who had already seen the movie with audio description, I can confidently say this is a unique experience to me. Should you go to the theater as a blind or low-vision person, you will get audio description for this. I just can’t vouch for how good the track actually is. I know one exists, and judging by how MUBI downstreams its audio description, I would recommend trying to go to the theater since its own streaming service is unlikely to support the audio description for this film.

See, that’s not that hard of a concept. It’s a very fair examination. I told you exactly and honestly how I consumed the movie. I explained that the lack of audio description in my ability to discuss it came from the lack of accessibility in my digital screener, and I also acknowledged that it exists in theaters now, suggesting even that seeing it theatrically might be the best way to guarantee that you get to see this film with audio description. As I constantly weave my personal life into my reviews as if you guys read all of them, I recently reviewed another film which, to be polite, shall remain nameless, and slapped it into my Going In Blind series, which I use to indicate that a film either doesn’t have audio description or that I wasn’t provided it. I was told flat out that film didn’t have audio description, not just that my screener couldn’t have accessibility provided with it. The insinuation was that there was no track and the film wouldn’t be releasing with one. When I’m told there’s no audio description track for a film, the correlation there is that there won’t be one for the theatrical release either. So I reviewed the film as if no track existed, let everyone who read the review know there would be no audio description, only to find out from one of you lovely readers that there was, in fact, audio description when the film hit theaters. I sent a not-very-nice email to the team behind that film because I’m here to promote these movies, whether it’s that film or Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma. These reviews exist to discuss films, hype films, make you interested in films, and get a conversation going.

I like movies. Yes, I occasionally give bad reviews. But the benefit of being an independent critic and not being assigned certain things by Variety means I tend to skew more Fresh than Rotten because oftentimes I can look at a project and go, “That looks absolutely terrible and I don’t need to watch that.” I can dodge those films. I don’t get assigned them. So I was more than excited to screen both the mystery movie that lied to me and Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma. Both films are getting a Fresh score from me despite neither one providing me with the accessibility I needed. So, if Jane’s reading this, this is what fair looks like. Even when a movie ignores me, even when my accessibility is denied, I cannot deny that this is an excellent film. I do have a bit of a problem figuring out exactly where this grade lands, and that’s where the audio description would have helped. There are several scenes in this movie that are incredibly hard to follow without audio description because it is a horror movie and there are slasher elements to it. Without audio description, some of those scenes came across really weird, and sometimes the sound effects made me question what was happening. Some of the stabs or slashes into a victim made it sound like they were exploding on contact, which would be kind of over the top even for this genre. Perhaps they are. I don’t have any visual correlation to what’s happening in those moments.

But the whole film isn’t a slasher film. The whole film isn’t Friday the 13th. Quite a bit of it is conversationally an examination of the genre, the Camp Miasma franchise, and what it means to be a final girl aging out and seeing meaningful work dry up around you. As Gillian Anderson’s star Billie, it’s important to recognize that what she’s saying here is absolutely true, not just for our scream queens, but for how we treat a lot of aging actresses in Hollywood. We have absolutely no idea what to do with them. We cannot seem to write roles for them. We cannot seem to cast them despite however many Oscar nominations or wins they may have. It’s amazing that Gillian Anderson landed such an incredible role because for every actress who’s working like her, there’s a Susan Sarandon who has apparently gone into the witness protection program. Look at some of the films Diane Keaton made toward the end of her career. She just kept getting offered terrible film after terrible film. I recently saw Passenger, which I haven’t reviewed yet, with Academy Award winner Melissa Leo. She’s not the lead. She couldn’t even get the lead in a low-budget horror movie like Passenger. She’s basically the old lady who offers information. She’s a multiple nominee and an Oscar winner, and that’s the best they could do for Melissa Leo.

Truthfully, I don’t understand what happens to actresses as they age. We always seem to find roles for men, but women disappear. Occasionally somebody gets something good, but mostly they end up struggling. Dianne Wiest has talked about this previously, and more recently Samantha Morton, who has received a ton of critical praise for her role in The Odyssey, has expressed her lack of offers despite previously being an Academy Award nominee herself and possibly becoming one again this year. So if you’re really willing to sit down and listen to what Schoenbrun is saying through Billie, I think there’s a lot to be had here, not just about queerness, not just about the horror franchise, but about Hollywood, cinema, aging, and how quickly things can be forgotten and how fast people move on. That resonates far beyond the immediate story. I feel pretty compelled to give this a high grade. I know my taste and style, and even without audio description, I’m fairly confident my grade would be approximately this. It might go up or down slightly once I hear the audio description track, but I’m unlikely to actually change the number. I feel like it’s a pretty good representation of how I feel about Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma. It might even be a Top 10 film for me after I finally hear it with audio description at some point in the future. God willing.

If you’re the type of person who understands the double entendre behind calling the killer Little Death, if you’re a fan of the horror genre and are open to an exploration of why people are so attracted to horror, even sexually turned on by it, then there’s a lot here to chew on. That’s something I think branches beyond simply the queer experience. Based on the obsession with horror, I have a feeling there are plenty of straight cisgender people out there who are just as drawn to this genre and see themselves represented through it, much like Chris does in Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma. If those are things you feel like you would like to explore, Jane Schoenbrun is absolutely the right director to explore them through. They’re wickedly smart and one of the brightest directors we have working right now. This movie slayed, but Gillian Anderson’s performance knocked me dead on the floor. Absolute perfection.

Fresh: 8.5/10