Queer Horror Cinema: Requiem and Revelation by Jane Schoenbrun
Director Jane Schoenbrun is crafting a compelling cinematic duology that uses the language of horror not to frighten, but to illuminate the delicate, often painful, journey of desire and identity. With the recent success of her 2024 hit I Saw the TV Glow, she is now releasing Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, a symbolic pairing that acts as a powerful plea to the queer audience she has cultivated.
Schoenbrun’s cinema achieves its haunting quality by foregoing traditional jump scares in favor of a more nuanced approach. Instead of relying on garish sound design, she immerses the viewer in a mood through elongated silences, droning scores, and fantastical visuals. This method transforms the genre of horror into a haunting metaphor for queer and trans identity, exploring how repression has etched itself into the very fabric of the protagonists’ lives.
The true horror in these films lies not in the dark rooms, but in the internal landscapes of their characters. In I Saw the TV Glow, we follow Owen (Justice Smith) as he grapples with the impact of fictional media on his gender identity, watching him slowly bury his true desires. Meanwhile, in Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, filmmaker Kris is rebooting a slasher franchise, a process that forces her to confront how her identity as a queer adult is shaped by societal expectations.
Both Owen and Kris are essentially sleepwalking through existence, stuffing their authentic desires down whenever they threaten to break free. Owen is trapped by shame, unable to name his desires or transition his identity, while Kris finds her yearning to belong to a perfect form of queerness stunts her relationship with sex. The only true moments of selfhood for both characters occur when they gaze up at the screens of their favorite media, acknowledging the parts of themselves that society seeks to conceal.
Schoenbrun uses these narratives to push back against the idea that queer life must be confined to the confines of media. She proposes a different reality: one where viewers can extricate themselves from the narratives that define them and live authentically. While Owen struggles within the confines of his life and his favorite shows, Kris eventually finds liberation by destroying the very framework she once loved.
To achieve this liberation, the characters must embrace community. Kris finds a pivotal moment of escape and joy when she connects with former Camp Miasma Final Girl Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson), leading to a profound experience that helps her break free from internalized shame. This shift allows the narrative to move from metatextual critique into realms of fantastical visual freedom.
Ultimately, Schoenbrun’s latest works function as a rallying cry. They acknowledge the stifling nature of societal pressure to assimilate while simultaneously offering a vision of queer joy and survival. These films serve as a sermon, reminding the audience that while the journey of searching for oneself can feel endless, happiness is achieved by breaking free of the chains of assimilation. They urge viewers to embrace their desires, recognizing that small acts of bravery and sacrifice are necessary to live a truly lived, radiant life outside the shadows.