Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma

This was the first time I got to watch a film in the new Theater 3 of The Music Box Theatre and *damn* do I love that new setup. You're so close to the screen and the room is small and everything is lush and new. It feels like you're in the basement of a Hollywood producer at a private screening. I went into this with low expectations. I had enjoyed this director's debut film years ago, but didn't enjoy their second nearly as much. If their first film was a statement of category (telling stories of trans life through the lens of horror), then I thought the second was a sophomore album - a self-serious pandering to nostalgia. This third film was a jubilant exhortation of the better halves of those first two: unbridled enthusiasm for filmmaking-as-personal-exploration along with a big bloody bite of juicy horror. And I wholly accepted the director's joy into my heart. I was loving all the music choices. I was loving the beautiful iridescence of the background behind the horror…

Commenting on Bubbles has been removed. Why? If you want to talk about this post, write to the author, use the comments on their blog if it has them, or reply with a "RE:" post on your own blog. Suggestions? feedback@bubbles.town