Outside of a few notable exceptions, for most of Hollywood history the horror genre has not been taken all that seriously, with many viewing it as nothing more than cheap, exploitative trash. And sure, some of it was (and is) but even before the current wave of “elevated” horror films finally made it acceptable to appreciate, many of these movies had plenty to say about the state of society at their time of release. That doesn’t mean that a movie with the sole aim of eliciting scares isn’t worthy of attention or acclaim, though there are many who would disagree with me on that point, in particular in regard to the slasher subgenre. The dichotomy between those who think a scary movie doesn’t need to be anything more than that and those who have become accustomed to them serving as allegories forms the basis for the relationship at the center of writer / director Jane Schoenbrun’s Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, a movie with a lot on its mind that succeeds admirably at conveying it all.

Kris (Hannah Einbinder) has been tapped by a studio to reboot the dormant and now controversial Camp Miasma slasher franchise, but seems to be having some difficulty deciding how best to approach the material. Her agent (Sarah Sherman) thinks that meeting the actress who played the “final girl” in the original film could help her to get her creative juices flowing and so Kris heads out to the Pacific Northwest to visit Billy (Gillian Anderson) at her isolated home in the woods, which as it turns out is also the summer camp used in several entries.

Billy is happy to chat with Kris and while she seems more than a little bit quirky—at one point she is spied conversing with a cardboard cutout of the franchise’s killer Little Death (Jack Haven)—the two quickly form a genuine rapport, even potentially noticing a spark of something more. As Kris spends more time snowed in with Billy, discussing their lives and watching the original film, she grows increasingly enamored with her, all while events outside hint that Little Death may be preparing to return once more, this time for real.

While Camp Miasma simultaneously serves as a love letter to and a criticism of slasher movies like Friday the 13th and Sleepaway Camp—even offering several winking references to them—it is very much not one in and of itself. There are several graphically over-the-top bursts of violence, but they are played more for laughs and symbolic value than fear. Instead, Schoenbrun has crafted a surprisingly moving exploration of sexual self-actualization, demonstrating the ways that escaping into a movie can help us to better understand ourselves and erode any shame we might feel about our own desires.

Production designers Matt Hyland and Brandon Tonner-Connolly have crafted a magical world, using gorgeous matte-painting backdrops that create a sense of hyperreality, blurring the lines between reality and film, and all captured beautifully by DP Eric K. Yue. The two leads’ give magnetic performances, sharing genuine chemistry while feeling utterly relatable despite their own oddities, with Anderson in particular at the top of her game, drawing us in as readily as her character does Kris.

While Schoenbrun’s previous feature I Saw the TV Glow explored the ways that we can misremember the media of our youth, creating false, romanticized versions of it in our minds, here she explores how it can shape our adult selves and how in understanding and opening our minds up to that influence we can grow into the people we yearn to be. Lovingly made, thematically rich, frequently funny, and utterly entrancing, this may be the weirdest, bloodiest rom-com ever made, and for the right viewer it will also be one of the best. ★★★★★

Rated R for bloody violence, gore, sexual content, graphic nudity, drug use, and some language.