Carrie (2026)

Creator: Mike Flanagan
Starring: Summer H. Howell, Samantha Sloyan, Siena Agudong, Alison Thornton, Joel Oulette, Josie Totah, Arthur Conti, Thalia Dudek, Amber Midthunder, Matthew Lillard, Kate Siegel, Michael Trucco, Katee Sackhoff, Rahul Kohli, Tim Bagley, Heather Graham, Tahmoh Penikett, Crystal Balint, Danielle Klaudt, Mapuana Makia, Rowan Danielle, Naika Toussaint, Gil Bellows
Original Airdate: 2026

**This Review Contains Plot Spoilers**  

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

The first hints that Mike Flanagan's adaptation of Carrie will differ from any previous adaptation of  Stephen King's classic horror novel come right away, as the unfolding events seem to more closely resemble a true crime drama. After initially establishing itself as a modern coming-of-age teen series with scant traces of the supernatural, it's given room to ramp up, setting off tiny sparks that multiply with each episode, culminating in a full blown explosion. So even with Flanagan fumbling a bit in the closing hour, this still ranks among one of the more daring and ambitious King interpretations to hit the screen.  

A reimagining through and through, there's an immediacy and timeliness to this take that makes it uniquely accessible to fans and non-fans alike. And in capturing the spirit of the original material for seven of its eight episodes, it manages to make the familiar unrecognizable, as if reintroducing the story in an entirely new context. For those worried the paranormal elements would trip this up, it does, but for three quarters of the way through it's deftly handled, bubbling under the surface until it can't be contained. But the bigger takeaway is just how bizarrely satisfying it is to see this story modernized, highlighting themes we forgot existed and can now be viewed through a different lens.

While it's tempting to roll your eyes at the idea of a rebooted Carrie featuring a plot so reliant on social media and cyberbullying, it's better viewed as the creative conduit that continues what King started. It's also a collision of worlds as the author's traditional horror is jarringly transported into a new setting that reflects the conflict of an ostracized girl fighting to escape the controlling grip of a fanatical parent. What Flanagan does is shocking and surreal, expanding this fictional universe to depict the toll these events have on a community that stretches beyond its title character.

When construction worker Ralph White (Tahmoh Penikett) dies in an on site accident, the police and social workers who arrive at his residence to conduct a welfare check are surprised to discover wife Margaret (Samantha Sloyan) and teen daughter Carrie (Summer H. Howell) hiding in the closet. As a condition for retaining custody of the homeschooled Carrie, Margaret is informed her daughter must now attend the local Ewen High School while she maintains employment at the town grocery store. A shy, awkward shut-in who's rarely been exposed the outside world or interacted with anyone her age, it isn't long before Carrie attracts the wrong kind of attention at school. 

Popular classmate Sue Snell (Siena Agudong) attempts to befriend Carrie but resident mean girl Chris Hargensen (Alison Thornton) rallies her bully squad to toss tampons at the petrified new girl in the locker room shower as she's having her period. With the girls livestreaming the incident on their phones, a cruel Chris takes things even further, impersonating Carrie on social media by creating the Instagram account "CarrieRed," which takes aim at Carrie before also targeting other students and faculty with incriminating videos.

While Principal Grayle (Matthew Lillard) ineffectively attempts to brush this problem under the rug, Chris pretends to befriend Carrie, who's just starting to discover her telekinetic powers. But as an overprotective Margaret remains determined to shield her daughter from reality, Carrie learns to embrace her powers, leading to potentially disastrous consequences.

It's sort of a relief that on Carrie's first day of school the series doesn't go the obvious route of having everyone stare as if she's the biggest freak they've ever encountered in their lives. Instead, they see this strangely dressed, socially challenged new girl who looks and acts like a baby deer in headlights, which of course establishes her as an immediate target. 

The series also gets its easiest metaphor out of the way early with an active shooter drill that terrifies Carrie and gives us our first major glimpse into Margaret's religious zealotry when she marches into Grayle's office. Lillard is great as the spineless administrator who waves away every problem until it spirals out of control. As a result, Grayle gets hit from all sides in his attempts to appease everyone at once, resulting in the rest of the faculty paying the price.  

Carrie's most endearing qualities are her naïveté and innocent, childlike curiosity. Unfortunately, both equal doom at school and home, with much of that blame lying at the feet of mother Margaret, who Samantha Sloyan expertly plays in a scary yet entirely human performance filled with desperate moments of reflection and regret. And yet the character's also a selfish monster whose unwavering rigidness remains the root of Carrie's problems, leaving her wholly unprepared for the abuse she faces. 

For Margaret, everything's a giant "I told you so," remaining oblivious to the fact her daughter's upbringing helped cause this catastrophe. That Carrie's forbidden from going outside, not permitted to read anything but the bible, can't have friends, isn't aware of school shootings and doesn't recognize when she's having her period means all make for a rough assimilation process. 

One of the most rewarding aspects of Summer H. Howell's lead turn is how open and willing her Carrie is to learn about all of that, regardless of what Margaret thinks. Howell also gives you the sense this girl's almost somewhat grateful that the awful school experience since it brings her a step closer to the normal life she's dreamed about. A childhood out of reach now seems closer than before, if only because she's finally around those her own age and exposed to what they are. The few flashbacks we see of paranoid patriarch Ralph White paint a grim picture of how Carrie and Margaret ended up like this, with the latter trying to pick up where he left off in "protecting" their daughter.

Carrie gets some support at school, whether that's from caring and knowledgeable guidance counselor Peter Morton (Tim Bagley) or concerned phys ed teacher Miss Desjardin (Amber Midthunder), a new arrival still learning the ropes from English teacher Seth Piest (Rahul Kohli). While Carrie's only true friend is self described outcast Emaline (Thalia Dudek), the popular but diplomatic Sue is put in a precarious position by knowing Carrie's treatment is wrong, yet wielding enough influence over her friends to possibly stop it. 

If nothing else, Sue tries, with Siena Agudong doing justice to a character whose empathy for Carrie and palpable disappointment in best friend Chris will eventually reaches a boiling point. But while Sue and kind hearted boyfriend Tommy (Joel Oulette) provide the story's moral compass, Chris serves as its ethically empty black hole. And what a performance from Alison Thornton as the merciless bully whose deep seeded self hatred manifests itself in the worst of ways, making every minute of screen time Chris shares with Carrie painfully uncomfortable to watch. 

Thornton plays Chris as rotten to her core, but not without some hope for redemption. She's also completely lost, with a home life miserable enough to take it out on the world. A verbally abusive criminal father (Michael Trucco) and a mom (Heather Graham) who moved on function as reasons rather than excuses. And now that Chris may soon have a new stepdad (Gil Bellows), his daughter Brooklyn (Rowan Danielle) becomes her latest target, making it even clearer which parent she takes after. 

Chris flies off the deep end after hooking up with sociopathic new boyfriend Billy (Arthur Conti), dismissing all of Sue's concerns. The brilliance in Thornton's performance comes in moments where quick flashes of recognition and remorse are glimpsed just beneath Chris' angry, resting bitch face, only to disappear when she doubles down again, overwhelmed by worsening family issues. Complex and multidimensional, we hate the character while still sympathizing with her, hoping against hope for a turnaround. But no matter how many chances Chris gets, she just can't let it go, continuously causing herself the most damage by refusing to utter the two simple words that would make this all go away. 

When Carrie needs serious adult intervention, Margaret can't help but become the type of ubiquitously awful social media presence she claims to despise. And for someone who can't stop preaching about modern technology's ills, she seems to have no problem fully embracing that when it benefits her. But with Carrie in full control of her powers, their roles soon reverse, as a suddenly desperate Margaret realizes she's no longer calling the shots in this household. She also discovers something else, which results in an unwelcome sub-plot that partially robs Carrie of her agency in the final episode. 

In hindsight, Flanagan should have just called it quits when the pig's blood falls since every hour before it was a near-masterpiece. All he had to do was follow through with that vision and finish what King started. Instead, we get a development that feels more like something you'd see in X-Men or Stranger Things, undermining much of what made the series' opening flash forward so compelling. 

Having already proven his mettle as the master King adapter with Doctor Sleep and 2024's transcendent The Life of Chuck, Flanagan was entrusted with material that ranks alongside The Shining and It as the author's most respected work. If DePalma's definitive 1976 version already did it justice, the botched 2013 reboot added nothing other than concern for this latest attempt, which bares little resemblance to either beyond its basic framework. And though a couple of our worries are realized at the very end, it's still an incredible effort as a whole.  

There are many instances during these eight episodes where you actually have to remind yourself you're watching Carrie, if only because it takes the story so much further than expected. Prior to its polarizing aftermath, we're busy wondering how much more these characters can endure, until remembering hurt people hurt people, with their methods and motivations continuing to evolve and catch everyone else off guard. Flanagan's plan only shows holes at the finish line when he abandons King's playbook, possibly setting Amazon up to expand this "universe" in a second season. But given the high body count we're left with with, it may take some imagination to envision what a clean slate looks like.  

Fall 2: Deadpoint

Directors: The Spiereg Brothers
Starring: Harriet Slater, Arsema Thomas, Tom Brittney, Virginia Gardner, Grace Caroline Currey
Running Time: 97 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)     

When Scott Mann's high altitude survival thriller Fall was released in 2022 and went on to become a sleeper hit, the sequel seemed almost inevitable. And it's hard to complain given the indelible mark it left, with certain shots, scenes and moments reverberating long after the credits rolled. And while this story about a pair of friends stranded atop a 2,000 foot radio tower in the desert may have contained some wild developments, it primarily succeeded as a bare bones physical and psychological test of wills. It was also spectacularly lensed, with vertigo inducing shots that  placed viewers alongside its protagonists on that tiny platform, looking down in terror. The scenario is tough to replicate, which is probably why the Spiereg Brothers wisely decided to take Fall 2: Deadpoint in a slightly different direction. 

With the tone and spirit of its predecessor still present, the first thing fans of the original will notice is how much more plot this follow-up contains. Whereas the previous film featured two fairly straightforward twists, this has a few more contentious ones that help establish it as a compulsively watchable B-movie with a capital "B." For some, that approach could be viewed as a downgrade, tempting them to write this off as a schlockier version of the original. And though it doesn't reach the metaphorical heights of its predecessor, it still manages to be a well acted, pulse pounding effort that accomplishes exactly what an action sequel should. 

After thrill seeking streamer Shiloh Hunter (Virginia Gardner) fell to her death following a treacherous tower climb with best friend Becky (Grace Caroline Currey), Shiloh's grieving younger sister Jax (Harriet Slater) is unnerved by the morbid attention her passing has received on social media. Devastated and struggling to move on, Jax meets up with Shiloh's friend Luce (Arsema Thomas) to sell her sister's recently recovered truck. But after finding Shiloh's scrapbook of future stunts and climbs, Luce convinces a very reluctant Jax to join her on a trip to Thailand where they'd attempt the extremely dangerous Mount Kwan plank walk.

While there, the two meet a non-native guide named Jon (Tom Brittney) who will take them for a pricey fee since the mountain is closed due to earthquake-related rock slides. After Luce agrees to foots the bill, she and Jax embark on the restricted, illegal climb when catastrophe strikes, leaving them stranded on the mountain on the side of the mountain with no possible route down. With the elements taking their toll and the possibility of rescue beginning to dwindle, they must find a way to survive as the clock rapidly runs out.

There's this early sequence that shows a montage of social media reactions to Shiloh's death, conveying the hysteria and idol worship surrounding the popular influencer we saw perish in the last film. It's a brief but clever narrative device that kicks off the plot and supplies us with a "blink and you'll miss it" meme that intentionally sparks the film's biggest laugh. But despite how creative Shiloh's performatively mournful "Fall-owers" are, it's no laughing matter for Jax, whose fractured relationship with Shiloh is sporadically shown through flashbacks. Plagued by guilt, the quiet, reserved Jax couldn't be more different than her daredevil sister, a dynamic that frequently caused personality clashes between them. 

Now more nervous and paralyzed by fear in the wake of Shiloh's tragedy, Mann and Jonathan Frank's script lets us determine whether Jax is exercising common sense by hesitating to go on this climb with Luce or it's just another reflection of her timid personality. The answer is probably a mix of both, but considering how Luce credits Shiloh for getting her to "face her fears" it makes sense she'd want to pay that forward to the little sister she left behind. Once they arrive it's clear Jax was right in categorizing this as a reckless endeavor made worse by their lack of experience. 

Luckily, the women have a competent tour guide in Jon, a total pro who appears to have the patience of a saint while showing them the "clip-in clip out" method for crossing the "Devil's Elbow" portion of the mountain. Similar to the previous film, there are a lot of close ups that foreshadow oncoming disaster, as loose bolts, slippery surfaces and rickety planks indicate the terror to come. And once the earthquake hits and rock slides start, all bets are off, with Jax and Luce suddenly left to fend for themselves. 

The setting is no radio tower but the Spieregs still find ways to make this situation a nail biter in its own right, as options for climbing down or summoning help dwindle with each broken rung, creating an increasingly perilous dilemma. We also know this series isn't above killing off one or both lead characters if need be, generating added tension as a result. And there are more than a few taughtly directed scenes that'll have viewers on the edge of their seats, especially a couple of sequences that see Jax and Luce free scaling the mountain in a risky, death defying attempt to reach a dangling, out of reach backpack. 

English actress and Emma Stone lookalike Harriet Slater carries her weight with a strong leading turn as Jax amid some really over-the-top circumstances. Besides possessing a great primal, anguished scream, she tracks Jax's evolution from ignored, insecure little sis to formidable badass overcoming her fears. As the driving force behind this trip, Luce isn't without her own baggage, enabling Arsema Thomas to effectively play her character's cards close to the vest. And though there's a long stretch where Jon's temporarily taken out of the picture, Tom Brittney keeps us wondering whether his knowledgeable tour guide is too good to be true. 

There's a major twist halfway through that seriously alters the climbers' plight and how they relate to each other moving forward. Then comes a less revelatory swerve that's followed by a bigger surprise audiences might take exception to, at least in regard to a certain character's reaction. Though given what we know about her judgment, this response actually makes a lot more sense than you'd initially assume. Really none of these developments come out of nowhere, with the seeds having been planted early on.

Piling on the drama without sacrificing white knuckle suspense, this continues what the last film started with clever call backs, exhilarating sequences and an intense performances. That the original's two leads both reappear and are incorporated well also help make this feel less like a cash-in than the continuation of an ongoing saga. Aside from lesser effects and maybe one narrative wrinkle too many, Fall 2 does capitalize on the previous entry's acrophobic premise, establishing itself as a worthy sequel in this recently announced trilogy. And if its closing minutes are any indication, we could already have a pretty good idea what's in store for the final chapter.  

Coyote vs. Acme

Director: Dave Green
Starring: Will Forte, Lana Condor, John Cena, Tone Bell, Martha Kelly, Luis Guzmán, P.J. Byrne, John Early, Nancy Linehan Charles, Kenneth Choi, Ernie Vigil
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)   

Sometimes an idea is so clever you wish you were in the room when they pitched it. Coyote vs. Acme has such a premise, putting a fresh spin on a property many have appreciated for decades, but with a surprisingly subversive and timely twist. And whether it's adults who grew up watching Looney Tunes on Saturday mornings or kids first getting introduced to this wacky universe, the impact is the same, as director Dave Green delivers a moving and universally relatable underdog tale. But more importantly, it shines a new light on animation's most famous feud, resulting in a zany adventure, conspiracy thriller and uproarious courtroom drama all rolled into one. And now after after actually seeing it, Warner Bros.' decision to kill and bury their own film (before Ketchup Entertainment swooped in for the save) somehow seems even worse in retrospect. 

By unintentionally creating a groundswell of support for a movie they sold off, Warner Bros. shot themselves in the foot, a cruel irony considering how its plot revolves around a greedy corporation obsessed with the bottom line. But as crazy as it sounds, the project's been kicking around since Ian Frazier 1990 New Yorker article first introduced the concept of Wile E. Coyote suing the Acme Corporation for damages. Since the 1940's, Wile E. and Road Runner's feud has been defined by a single reoccurring gag as the former constantly causes himself bodily harm in his many failed attempts to catch his nemesis. Now screenwriter Samy Burch brilliantly adapts Frazier's premise to paint on a larger canvas, pushing past an already successful formula and ensuring those classic cartoons will play even better than they did before.  

It's 1992 when Acme Corporation scientist Dr. Lorre makes a shocking discovery about a company cover-up, leaking the covert information to an unknown source before being captured and disappeared by agents. Flash forward thirty years to Albuquerque, New Mexico and Wile E. Coyote is still trying to catch and eat the Road Runner when he sees a TV ad for Avery, Jones and Maltese, a personal injury law firm who specialize in cartoon injuries from Acme products. After meeting with senior partner Kevin Avery (Will Forte) Wile E. informs him he wants to sue the company for all the defective devices that foiled his attempts at capturing Road Runner over the years. Unfortunately, Kevin's penchant for settling every case that comes across his desk makes that proposal a tough sell. 

While Kevin's niece and intern Paige (Lana Condor) tries convincing her uncle to overcome his fear of failure and go to trial, a paperwork snafu forces Kevin into a showdown with Acme's feared chief legal counsel and former Harvard Law School classmate Buddy Crane (John Cena). Though Buddy assumes his old pal will fold as usual, Wile E. has other plans, tricking Kevin into taking a case more important than any of them suspected. And after Kevin starts receiving tips from a mysterious whistleblower about Acme's crimes, both sides begin to realize Road Runner could be the most important witness of all. But only if they can somehow get him to testify. 

Right away we're presented with the notion that Wile E. lives this lonely, miserable existence, a fact rarely touched upon or explored at length in the cartoons. And while "predator" is listed as his primary occupation, he certainly isn't an accomplished one, yet after experiencing Acme's latest product failure and seeing that commercial, he assumes his prayers have been answered. The only problem is an apathetic lawyer who's a lot less motivated than him, making for a mismatched, contentious pairing. 

Despite his faults, no one ever accused the obsessively persistent Wile E. of being a quitter, which can't be said for the disheveled Kevin, who's just going through the motions, settling his cases much like he's settled at life. Though the idealistic Paige is understandably perturbed by her uncle's attitude, she hopes the suit will reignite a fire inside him and she'll gain some legal experience beyond pushing papers. But as Kevin's dragged kicking and screaming into this by the duplicitous Wile E., a David vs. Goliath dynamic develops when monopolistic behemoth Acme looks to crush him in court.

Forte's played goofy characters before, but putting aside his impressive feat of acting alongside an animated co-star in every scene, the role also works as a witty nod to Jimmy Stewart's title turn in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. In other words, Kevin's in way over his head, but insulted enough by this injustice to put up a fight, recognizing the suit has consequences that extend farther than a single plaintiff, even one as desperate as Wile E. 

As Kevin and Paige gradually uncover a giant conspiracy that could destroy Acme if exposed, Wile E. has his own plans for how things should go at trial. But he also doesn't speak, leading to some really funny, chaotic scenes of him trying to get his point across in a myriad of attention grabbing ways, with Forte displaying impressive physical comedy chops as his slapstick foil. And as the cool, confident Buddy Crane, Cena perfectly projects his character's arrogant aura with an imposing presence that nearly intimidates Kevin into quitting, especially when he sees how skillfully Buddy pours a glass of water. 

The trailers have been coy about it, but nearly every Looney Tunes character imaginable appears, including Tweety, Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Tasmanian Devil, Elmer Fudd, Sylvester, and the very memorable Bugs Bunny as a Deep Throat-inspired informant. But all of them meaningfully service the plot, especially a scene stealing Foghorn Leghorn as Acme's blowhard of a CEO.  

It couldn't have been easy to come up with an explanation for why Acme's products have been failing for decades, but the filmmakers go a step further, taking the company's greed and negligence to a level that carries harsh echoes of current corporate malfeasance. But the most shocking part of the trial isn't what Acme's done, but how proud and willing they are to admit this in front of a self serving public who wildly applaud it. As long as they reap the benefits and someone else gets hurt then everything's fine, especially if a charismatic storyteller is there to tell them it's for the greater good. 

The realization that no one gives a second thought about Wile E. makes the film's closing minutes hit that much harder. Should he testify, Road Runner is the only potential witness who knows what his predator's been through, making it understandable both legal teams would want him on the stand, albeit for completely different reasons. But what unfolds is a moment between the pair that audiences have waited over a half a century for, though few guessed it would happen in such a setting. When Wile E. discovers his arch nemesis has a far different perception of their relationship than he does, an unexpected legal outcome leads to the ending these two iconic characters deserve, reminding us how neither could exist without the other.

Beyond the chases, face flattening falls and crashes, this is the most development Wile E. and his adversary have ever gotten, using the cartoons as a launching pad into uncharted territory. It also repositions Looney Tunes' most deviously scheming villain as a victim of possible sabotage. And while that isn't something typically associated with the character, he still has his usual motives, providing the story valid enough reason to bring him and other major players into the "real world." 

As the best live action/animation blend since Who Framed Roger Rabbit, this feels like the sequel we didn't get, putting a unique spin on many of the elements that made the 1988 classic such a groundbreaking achievement. Great ideas are a dime a dozen but successfully executing on them is rarer, as this sends these beloved characters on an entertaining adventure its opening title card humorously claims to be "based on a true story." And considering how the film's tumultuous road to the big screen so closely parallels its own themes, that notion may not be such a stretch after all.            

Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma

Director: Jane Schoenbrun
Starring: Hannah Einbinder, Gillian Anderson, Amanda Fix, Arthur Conti, Eva Victor, Zach Cherry, Sarah Sherman, Patrick Fischler, Dylan Baker, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Quintessa Swindell, Kevin McDonald, Jack Haven, Aren Buchholz
Running Time: 112 min.
Rating: R  

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

Writer/director Jane Schoenbrun's Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma has one of the more creative opening credit sequences you'll see. In fact, it's great enough to fear the rest of the film won't match it, even if you're really interested in seeing how it'll try. It begins with a haunting cover of R.E.M.'s "Nightswimming" blasting over the soundtrack as we're shown vintage movie memorabilia from the fictitious Camp Miasma horror franchise. Everything from action figures and arcade games to VHS tapes, "MiasmaCon" flyers and old newspaper clippings track the once popular property's fall after a string of inferior sequels and decreasing cultural relevance. 

You could call this a love letter to fans who know the pain of clinging to their favorite horror series, even long after these films fade from the public's consciousness, labeled politically incorrect by modern standards. But Schoenbrun understands this loyalty is less about the actual movies than our memories of how we first felt watching them. And that's something fans never stop chasing, despite the rest of the world moving on to what's next, repeating the cycle all over again. But the question of whether this picture delivers on the promise of its opening proves more complicated, which isn't exactly a surprise given how much we're asked to unpack.  

When queer filmmaker Kris Williams (Hannah Einbinder) is hired to write and direct a reboot of the 80's cult classic horror slasher Camp Miasma, it's obvious why she was picked. After a number of failed follow-ups the studio plans to go more "woke" with this new project, hoping the involvement of a gay writer/director will soften perception of the original's transphobic premise. A cross between Friday The 13th and Sleepaway Camp, it centered around a deceased bigender killer known as "Little Death" (Jack Haven) who emerges from the lake to spear every counselor in sight while breathing heavily through a giant air vent on their head. 

With fond childhood memories of the series, Kris leaves her polyamorous partner Mari (Jasmin Savoy Brown) and agent (Sarah Sherman) behind for a meeting with the original's reclusive star, Billy Preston (Gillian Anderson), who currently resides at the abandoned camp from the first film. While Kris tries coaxing the actress out of retirement to reprise her role, they slowly bond, as an inquisitive Billy seems more interested in what makes Kris tick as a person than her plans for the franchise. Impressed with how Billy exposes her to layers of art and life she never considered, Kris becomes convinced this new version should again focus on Billy's character. But now more immersed in this reboot than she ever imagined, the lines between fiction and reality collide, trapping both women in between.

The trailers would have you think this story concentrates on these two being trapped in a horror movie universe on the verge of resurrection when it's actually about the how the films get trapped inside of them. So those expecting Wes Craven's A New Nightmare or 2015's The Final Girls will probably be shocked by how little it has in common with those, at least aside from its meta DNA. That's especially evident when Kris complains about a mention of the former while selling her vision for the project on a video call with befuddled, displeased studio executives. It's a hilariously clever conversation with layers that double for how we imagine the pitch for this film could have gone.  

Even before Kris cracks the code for her reboot, Schoenbrun immerses us in Miasma's world with a meticulous recreation of cult 80's slashers and the obsessive fandom surrounding them. It's a phenomenon Kris knows too well, having her formative memories shaped by the experience of watching Billy Preston on VHS. Though outwardly nerdy and reserved, she's completely sincere in wanting to do this property justice, regardless of the studio's silly but realistic reason for hiring her.

In person, Billy's much more than Kris imagined, painting and creating on the abandoned campgrounds after quietly retiring from an industry that hung her out to dry decades ago. She's also keeping a secret Kris is about to be let in on, with their relationship becoming this sort of song and dance, as if Billy's determining whether her houseguest can handle the consequences. It's only when Kris metaphorically lets her hair down that the film reaches another bizarre level that ties back to Billy's original performance as a teen (played by Amanda Fix).

Einbinder takes the initially insecure Kris on a journey that moves from nervousness to eye opening realizations about her deep connection to the series. And when finally given a chance to live inside that world, Einbinder's performance reaches a thrilling peak, her character transforming before our eyes. Anderson captivates as kooky, retired actress Billy, this Southern queer version of Sunset Boulevard's Norma Desmond. But if Billy isn't quite done with this character, the movie isn't through with her either. It's a creepily hypnotic turn that keeps us guessing the entire time, right up until Billy shows Kris her print of the original film, but from a completely different perspective. 

Schoenbrun dedicates a fairly large section to footage from the original Camp Miasma, zeroing on teen Billy's struggles during monotonous sex scenes and the story's missing key that eventually unlocks her door to ecstasy. And even when portions of this section sometimes struggle to hold our complete attention, a sensational tracking sequence following Little Death's murderous rampage in a cabin doesn't, mostly due to another memorable needle drop and the demented sight of this HVAC headed killer on a slicing spree.   

Much of the first third hints at an emerging masterpiece before pumping the brakes midway to engage in the same kind of hypersexualization as the movies it's spoofing, which is probably the point. But this leads to an exciting blood bath of a finale that brings everything home and practically begs for a rewatch. The performances, painterly visuals and retro synth score all converge, justifiably earning  comparisons to Schoenbrun's even more perplexing and complex I Saw the TV Glow. Like that, this explores our relationship with media and pop culture, only using 80's slashers as its entry point rather than a cult 90's TV series.    

While many justifiably categorized the director's previous film as an allegory about gender identity, it bubbled under the surface of a more intriguing mystery. That aspect is far less coded here, its ideas rising from the abyss to shock and bludgeon us into submission, resulting in a delightfully twisted meta movie within a movie experiment. More elevated psychological thriller than pure slasher, it aims high, further establishing Schoenbrun as a filmmaker who doesn't just have something to say, but keeps coming up with remarkably unique ways of saying it.