“Sex seems so easy for so many people,” a young filmmaker tells her new lover, laying half-naked in a pool of discarded sweet wrappers. “But I've never been able to get there with someone else unless I'm really far away in my head.”
This is one of many moments in Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, Jane Schoenbrun's delirious dissection of slasher movies, that captures its absurd yet intimate magic — but also one that serves as a core reminder for viewers: To reach this movie's orgasmic plane, you too must learn to let go.
