By Alex McPherson

A quietly bananas experience dripping in studious authenticity and a passion for research, directors Kevin Walker and Jack Auen’s “Chronovisor” provides a rabbit hole worth tumbling into.

The film, shot in grainy 16mm, takes place in present-day New York City and follows Beatrice Courte (played by real-life professor Anne-Laure Sellier), a French scholar of philosophy and neuroscience at Columbia University. Beatrice feels disconnected from her colleagues; she’s much more at home at the school’s cavernous library, with her research papers and stacks of books under the warm glow of a table light. 

She’s fascinated by the concept of memory and pursues a new lead: the titular Chronovisor, a controversial, possibly fabricated 1970s “time viewing” device that allows whoever uses it to view any point in human history via silent video. Yes, that includes the crucifixion.

Although the Chronovisor was debunked as fiction, Beatrice can’t let go, pulling at an increasingly tangled string of threads to uncover the truth of its existence — and, if the Chronovisor is indeed real, how to potentially access it herself. She starts by investigating the history of its creator, the Italian Benedictine monk Pellegrino Ernetti, and quickly becomes immersed in worlds of academic conspiracies, using every tool at her disposal whilst having an obvious affinity for the analog. 

Suspense builds, certain doors of inquiry are closed while others open, and Beatrice — along with us viewers — are on the edge of our seats hungering for each new morsel of information.

“Chronovisor,” Walker and Auen’s feature debut, is a unique film that does an ingenious job at putting viewers in Beatrice’s shoes, deliberately doling out its quietly wild plot twists like a great detective novel and treating viewers like their own sleuths. 

Even though the central narrative goes to some ludicrous places, Walker and Auen infuse a sense of “realness” into practically every frame, giving us the sense of uncovering hidden history and encouraging us to give into the allure of obsessive research. 

Indeed, “Chronovisor” takes a gamble with its pacing and approach to unfolding its narrative. We’re reading and discovering along with Beatrice, and the film respects us enough to keep up, rewarding our diligence with chilling reveals and an increasingly suspenseful sensation of cosmic-horror-inflected paranoia.

Sellier, making her screen debut, brings a sense of lived experience and, again, genuineness to the proceedings that add to the film’s commitment to tangibility. Beatrice is reclusive, socially awkward, and subtly becoming consumed by her fixation on the Chronovisor. It’s a largely internal performance where much is communicated through her furrowed brow, darting eyes, quiet exasperation, and the white lies she tells to unearth just one more layer of this mystery — further pushing away her peers as she becomes more obsessed with this strange device.

Much of the brilliance of “Chronovisor” also lies in the distinctive atmosphere that Walker and Auen create: both unnerving and contemplative, capturing the thrill of new clues along with the foreboding doom that these new revelations bring. Leo Zhang’s richly sensory cinematography conveys Beatrice’s disconnection from the outside world and the tactile joy of poring through leather-bound volumes and watching scratchy VHS tapes in darkened libraries, bringing us right over her shoulder. 

“Chronovisor” requires us to read paragraphs as Beatrice reads them; the camera zooms in on the text (often in different languages) and elegantly overlays the English translation, another way the film simulates the psychological ups and downs of Beatrice’s quest for understanding.

Music also plays a huge role here. Booming orchestrations by the late English classical composer Gustav Holst hauntingly ebb and flow as questions are gradually answered — at times, it even sounds like a more cerebral version of John Williams’ music for “Indiana Jones.”

All of these elements combine to create an enveloping mind-bender that, so long as one can read at a rather rushed pace, absolutely flies by, almost making the act of uncovering the last stone an undesirable one as Beatrice nears the end of the road.

If there are any issues whatsoever with “Chronovisor,” they’re in the finale, which — without giving too much away — writes itself into a corner. Luckily, it’s balanced out by some nightmare fuel imagery that encapsulates the crescendo of stress the film has been building towards.

So, “Chronovisor” remains more about the journey than the destination, but when the craft and approach to storytelling is so unrivaled — in a feature debut, no less — any quibbles fade away into the recesses of the mind. It’s a bonafide masterpiece.

“Chronovisor” is a 2026 occult sci-fi mystery thriller written and directed by Kevin Walker and Jack Auen and starring Anne Laure Sellier? It is not rated by MPAA and the run time is 1 hour, 39 minutes. It is currently in limited release. On Saturday, Oct. 3, it will be shown at 5 p.m. at the Arkadin Cinema & Bar. The film is also listed as “coming soon” at the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema in St. Louis. Alex’s Grade: A+

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By Lynn Venhaus

Messy and unflinching, “The Mercy Seat” is a complicated relationship play between two New Yorkers in the immediate aftermath of Sept. 11, 2001. At the time of a monumental national tragedy, lovers Ben Harcourt and Abby Prescott are preoccupied with their own lives, not the missing and dead as those numbers climb.

In the Neil LaBute two-hander, first staged in 2002, the thorny dynamic between these two is difficult because the characters are morally bankrupt. And the uncomfortable setting is often claustrophobic, as intended.

After the 25th anniversary commemorating the lives lost that day on Friday, anyone seeking reflection or comfort may be shocked by this unexpected selfish take, for this doesn’t reflect mourning or any insight into universal 9-11 grief, or commentary on national unity.

But those familiar with LaBute’s signature edgy plays won’t be surprised by this brutal battle of the sexes as they sort out or attempt to make sense of being together. Because of the unprecedented attack on the nearby World Trade Center the day before, right at their doorstep, the world has changed overnight.

Franklin Killian as Ben and Kelly Schnider as Abby. Photo by Patrick Huber.

This pair, once in a thorny situation, may have more options available because of everyone’s disrupted lives. But how opportunistic are these thoughts and ideas? And how awful are they to even think of a convenient solution?

Franklin Killian and Kelly Schnider, making their St. Louis Actors’ Studio debut, are remarkably adept at the playwright’s rapid-fire dialogue, which creates a certain kind of rhythm that is emphasized in John Pierson’s direction.

Pierson’s nimble staging makes the most of the Gaslight Theatre’s intimate black-box space. The conversation is a power struggle that features frank sex talk and explicit language. Ben is cynical, Abby is bitter– and vice versa.

She is his superior, and older. He is married with children. In the Old Testament, “The Mercy Seat” carries the idea of the removal of sin. But they’re not getting off easy here.

The rawness of the bruised feelings, the surprise – and anguish – of what the other is thinking, and saying out loud, is apparent in the emotional interactions. Nothing is important and everything matters; such is the way LaBute creates the ebb and flow between two strong personalities flailing about on a day after the nation went numb.

Abby and Ben bicker in “The Mercy Seat,” featuring Kelly Schnider and Franklin Killian. Photo by Patrick Huber.

In momentary panic, each blurts out thoughtless remarks at each other, capitalizing on what they view as character flaws. What is it that they ever liked about each other – is it only sexual desire? And how self-absorbed is that? Are they both manipulating each other?

In the new upside-down interrupted world, is it worth maintaining their affair, breaking off or making a deeper commitment? Endgame questions that seek immediate answers. The wordplay is intense, and even in a twisty finish, prioritizes themselves.

Set and lighting designer Patrick Huber has created an efficient apartment setting without any windows on the world – but there is a door where a neighbor in need knocks. As the couple navigates between the kitchen and living room, the walls appear to close in on them.

Pierson also designed the sound, and the outside world intrudes through sounds of sirens and an occasionally ringing cellphone that Ben never picks up. Abby has ventured out to a store, which is no longer a simple task. Casual costumes provided by Teresa Doggett.

Kline and Killian fearlessly operate at a high level of verbal volleying, shifting tones throughout with this discomforting dialogue. LaBute intends to make us squirm – he maintains that clever, cavalier approach, and you’re either appalled or questioning your own impulses.

A couple at crossroads in “The Mercy Seat.” Photo by Patrick Huber.

The characters aren’t sympathetic, and those involved in the production are fully aware of the ugliness of human nature and how emotionally draining this work is. But LaBute has made a career of subverting people’s expectations (“The Shape of Things,” “Fat Pig,” “Reasons to be Pretty”).

“The Mercy Seat” premiered Off-Broadway at the Acorn Theatre in an MCC Theater production on Dec. 18, 2002, and closed on Jan. 15, 2003. Directed by LaBute, it starred Liev Schreiber and Sigourney Weaver

Because of his longstanding relationship with St. Louis Actors’ Studio since the creation of the LaBute New Theater Festival in 2013, which features curated short plays, he premieres a one-act every summer.

STLAS has also performed his full-length shows, including “Comfort” in 2022 and “The Way We Get By” in 2017, and his short plays have had lasting impact: “The Possible,” “Here We Go ‘Round the Mulberry Bush,” “Kandahar,” “Hate Crime,” “The Fourth Reich,” “Great Negro Works of Art,” “Unlikely Japan,” “Who’s on First,” and “Brunch” among them.

At 95-minutes without intermission, this unsettling confrontation in a lower Manhattan apartment is an often-fascinating narrative that at times is repetitive, and the sheer verbosity can be tedious.

One can’t shake the feeling that outside, on the ash-covered streets, traumatized New Yorkers are looking for the missing and answers. But inside, this self-centered couple bypasses universal selflessness and collective grief by thinking only of soothing their disillusioned selves.

St. Louis Actors’ Studio presents “The Mercy Seat” by Neil LaBute, Sept. 11-27 at The Gaslight Theater. Performances are on Thursday (second and third week), Friday and Saturday evenings at 8 p.m. and on Sundays at 3 p.m. For more information or to purchase general admission tickets, visit stlas.org or email [email protected].

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By Lynn Venhaus

In the warm glow of the cozy March parlor, a singular author wins us over with her exuberant family portrait while a modern playwright interprets the timeless work “Little Women” by sharing these relatable lives less ordinary.

Together, this exceptional ensemble of women depicts how love makes the poorest soul thrive, how dreams fuel ambitions, how comforting sisterhood is, and that gumption matters at any age and era.

Louisa May Alcott coaxed generations of women to dream. No doubt playwright Lauren Gunderson was one of them. How their worlds intertwine has created a fascinating dynamic that feels both modern and sentimental, lively and lovely.

Alcott’s most famous work, published in two volumes in 1868 and 1869, was eventually combined in 1880, and ever since, “Little Women” has never been out of print.

Addison Foote, Andrea San Miguel, Kristen Lindvedt, Marcia Pizzo and Amira Danan as the March women. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Gunderson, one of the world’s most produced playwrights, shares the same gift for honest writing that resonates. Through her fresh framing and frequent use of contemporary dialogue, the twin story unfolds, with dual roles of Lou and Jo played by the same actress. She also incorporated direct narration from Alcott’s writing, which adds authenticity.

In Civil War era Massachusetts, the fictional March family tends to the business of living while their father is away fighting for the Union Army. They endure traditional 19th century society struggles, especially financial – and love stories they refreshingly shape in their own way.

In 2024, director Delaney Piggins saw Gunderson’s adaptation during its rolling world premiere at the Northlight Theatre in Chicago, participating with three other theater companies. As associate artistic director, she lobbied for its inclusion in The Rep’s 60th season and is now making her triumphant directorial debut.

Her astute understanding of the characters and clever, inventive staging propels this charmer. Through her clear vision, she has gathered top-tier women creatives as designers — scenic designer Ann Beyersdorfer, costume designer Kotryna Hilko, lighting designer Paige Seber, and sound designer Amanda Werre. Choreographer Sam Gaitsch, intimacy director Frankie Ferrari, and dialect coach Lauren Roth all made noteworthy contributions, as did Paul Steger as fight director and Will Vicari as wig designer.

Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Piggins has assembled a strong quartet of lovable multi-faceted March sisters – Amira Danan as dutiful and devoted Meg, the oldest; Andrea San Miguel as fiercely independent Josephine “Jo”; Kristen Lindvedt as kind and gentle Elizabeth “Beth”; and Addison Foote as melodramatic and spoiled Amy, the youngest.

For those of us who grew up with a strong mother, Marmee rings true – and so does the passionate affection of the sisters and the memories they evoke.

Marcia Pizzo is a calm moral compass as the matriarch, guiding her girls about what’s important — especially self-respect and inner character. Warm and wise, she tells them she’d rather see them happy and poor instead of marrying only for money or social status.

She notices that Meg and Amy are more concerned with social status and luxury and tries to lower those expectations. She confides in Jo that she’s learned to control her temper instead of it controlling her.  

As the young women go after what they want, the big female energy on stage and in the audience was palpable – and glorious. The production’s rebel spirit reflected Jo’s empowering and enduring aspirations.

Andrea San Miguel and Jack Lancaster as Jo and Laurie. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

Andrea San Miguel is a major force as feisty Jo, leaning into her tomboy side, sometimes with an over-emphasis on humor. She strongly interprets a confident Jo and stubborn Louisa. San Miguel, who won the St. Louis Theater Circle for Best Performance in a Comedy, Female or Non-Binary Role, for her masterful madcap mischief in “The Cottage” last year, displays the same ease with the robust performers here.

Amira Danan is a strong loyal and nurturing Meg, who ultimately marries for love over money. Kristen Lindvedt excellently embodies the shy peacemaker Beth, who provides such joy playing music for her family. Lindvedt, also the music supervisor, plays the stage piano.

Addison Foote must grow the most as her character Amy, at first selfish and dramatic, but eventually becomes a worldly sophisticate who marries Laurie (Jack Lancaster), aka Theodore “Teddy” Laurence, their playful childhood pal now sensible adult.

The energetic Lancaster is ideally suited as Laurie, starting off as a lonely, sheltered rich boy next door who becomes a regular fun-loving fixture in the March sisters’ lives. As a confidante and best friends with Jo, he and San Miguel have an effortless chemistry together.

Addison Foote as Amy in “Little Women.” Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

They are such kindred spirits that when Laurie mistakes platonic compatibility for romantic feelings, Jo firmly rejects him, causing a rift. He flees to Europe, where he runs into Amy, who is studying art and painting while traveling with wealthy but cantankerous Aunt March (Marcia Pizzo in a dual role).

Eager for new horizons to fuel her literary ambitions, Jo travels to New York City, where she works as a governess and sells stories to publications. At her boarding house, she meets the kind and highly educated Professor Bhaer, who shares her passion for literature. He’s mature, respectful and hard-working. The spark is there; he and Jo will eventually share a wonderful life together, letting love in (“Little Men,” “Jo’s Boys”).

Adam Poss capably plays both Meg and Jo’s future good-guy husbands – earnest John Brooke and honorable Friedrich Bhaer. He’s first seen as Laurie’s tutor Mr. Brooke, who falls in love with Meg, then he enters late in the second act as the older German professor. He seamlessly transitions to each part and has a comfortable, steady presence on stage. He also briefly appears as the March patriarch.

Piggins’ fluid direction easily moves characters through the home, which scenic designer Ann Beyersdorfer has filled with books, mementoes, functional furniture and a small piano for Beth. The modest, lived-in New England aesthetic includes an outdoor area – for playing on the ice, dancing, and conversations. A second-floor window indicates the Laurence home. Lighting designer Paige Seber has shifted moods and seasons with her lighting choices that complement the set.

“Little Women.” Photo by Jon Gitchoff.

The costumes that Kotryna Hilko designed not only fit the period and economic status of the characters, but don’t bog down the performers in their active scenes, flowing well in movement, even with shawls and coats. With a few changes in jackets, Poss becomes three different characters.

To be in a theater alive with an effusive audience who believes in the deep value of female independence and creativity was meaningful Friday, a feeling I have carried – well, re-ignited, since that night. Those female voices, once found, carry.

Infused with Gunderson’s vitality and showcasing appealing performers, the Rep’s “Little Women” demonstrated that Louisa May Alcott’s populist work is timeless, sisterhood is a necessary emotional component in our lives, and women seizing their own journey with gusto is reason enough to stand up and cheer loudly.

The Repertory Theatre of St. Louis presents “Little Women” from Sept. 9 to Sept. 27 on the mainstage Browning Theatre in the Loretto-Hilton Center on the Webster University campus. For more information on tickets, call the box office at 314-968-3925 or visit www.repstl.org. For ticket deals, be sure to check out: www.repstl.org/ways-to-save

Adam Poss and Amira Danan as John and Meg. Photo by Jon Gitchoff.
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By Lynn Venhaus

A grueling and gritty crime-action drama set during the 1930s, “The Weight” benefits from a superb Ethan Hawke performance – both physically and emotionally – with a sly turn from Russell Crowe as a cagey opportunist.

Reminiscent of survival-driven suspense movies like ‘70s throwbacks “Deliverance” in the South and William Friedkin’s “Sorcerer” in South America, and more recently, Spike Lee’s “Da Five Bloods” in Vietnam, this is a slow-burn tale about tough people in tough times involving a heist scheme.

Four years into the Great Depression, Samuel Murphy (Ethan Hawke), a battle-scarred veteran of World War I and single father, is an honorable man of few words but strong in love for his young daughter Penny (an adorable Avy Berry). His mechanical and military skills barely keep them afloat, and they are evicted from their apartment.

While they seek an affordable place to live, he scuffles with corrupt cops, in self-defense, but he’s sent to prison. Working on a road gang, the resourceful Murphy catches the eye of shady warden Clancy — Crowe in fine form — who offers him a deal: early release for hauling a fortune in stolen gold bars across 100 miles of wilderness. If he doesn’t, Penny may be adopted by the time he gets out.

Russell Crowe is the unscrupulous warden Clancy.

Why the secret assignment? Another crooked lawman, Taggert (Alec Newman), has concocted a way to transport gold, because FDR is shutting mines down to use the gold for the federal government. What’s a half ton of gold bricks conveniently taken when no one’s looking? The weighty loads are to be dropped off at a pickup point, then Clancy will sign their release papers. What could go wrong?

Hawke does the heavy lifting here as a smart problem-solver who becomes the de facto leader of the prison workers, enlisting his fellow convicts Singh (Avi Nash), Olson (Lucus Lynggaard Tonnesen), and sketchy Rankin (Austin Amelio) as part of the courier crew. These downtrodden guys evoke the dire depressive times, and you feel their desperation and pain. And they’re wary of each other.

Padraic McKinley, who is making his feature film debut as a director, has worked as a producer and editor before, including the 2020 TV limited series “The Good Lord Bird,” featuring Hawke, and in the 2019 TV limited series “The Loudest Voice,” with Crowe as Roger Ailes.

McKinley takes his time setting up the mission, and there are uneven pacing issues throughout. The story itself is compelling – although not as satisfying as it could have been. Co-writers Matthew Booi, Shelby Gaines and Leo Scherman build tension and relationships through the endangered men.

Guard Sam Hazeldine leads the prisoners through the rugged terrain.

The six-day journey, under the watchful eye of compromised gun-toting prison guards Amis (Sam Hazeldine) and thuggish Letender (George Burgess) is arduous – physically demanding and nerve-wracking.

Nature is hazardous enough, but a rickety bridge over a deep gorge, a harrowing shootout with locals, and a perilous river crossing ratchets up the intensity. That leads to stronger bonds with these scrappy guys. Actors Amelio and Nash, both veterans of “The Walking Dead,” eventually become helpful partners.

Along the way they meet Anna (Julia Jones), an Indigenous woman who has escaped from a cruel situation. She is enlisted to cook and help them navigate the rough terrain, becoming their secret weapon multiple times despite some degrading treatment. Even though her part is slim, Jones shows how Anna can hold her own in a white man’s world.

As Murphy faces every setback as a challenge to the freedom endgame, Hawke, 55, grounds the film with his integrity and desire to get back to his daughter. Oscar acting nominee for “Training Day,” “Boyhood” and “Blue Moon,” he continues to show his diverse range and versatility among genres. Acting since he was 14, his physicality here is remarkable and his emotional journey is telegraphed naturally. His weathered, bruised and battered face tells you everything.

Julia Jones is an escaped native woman Anna.

Cinematographer Matteo Cocco vividly captures the Pacific Northwest while composers Latham Gaines, along with his brother and co-screenwriter Shelby Gaines, enhance the atmosphere with an industrial score, especially as the suspense tightens. Both costume designer Esther Walz and production designer Cora Pratz impeccably depict the period.

The film premiered at this year’s earlier Sundance Film Festival. Its final act is thrilling, so much so that it almost makes up for the story’s shortcomings. But it’s Hawke’s standout performance that will linger long after “The Weight” ends.

“The Weight” is a 2026 crime-action period drama directed by Padraic McKinley and starring Ethan Hawke, Russell Crowe, Austin Amelio, Avi Nash, Julia Jones, Lucus Lynggaard Tonnesen, Avy Berry, Sam Hazeldine, George Burgess and Alec Newman. The runtime is 1 hour, 55 minutes, and it’s rated R for language and some violence/bloody images. It opens in theaters Sept. 18. Lynn’s Grade: B-

Ethan Hawke suggests an idea to the guards.

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By Lynn Venhaus
Will it be “The Pitt” or “Pluribus”? “DTF St. Louis” or “Beef”? “Hacks or Widow’s Bay”? The 78th Annual Emmy Awards are on Monday on NBC starting at 7 p.m.

Mariska Hargitay will be the host. Expert a tribute to Dolly Parton. Nineteen awards will be presented. The night could have surprises, so it’s never easy to predict.

Among the records that could be broken, Jean Smart (“Hacks”) or Alison Janney (“The Diplomat”) could tie the all-time record for the most Emmys won by a performer (8 wins), which is jointly held by Cloris Leachman and Julia Louis-Dreyfus.

Smart could also set a record by winning the Lead Actress In A Comedy Series for every season of her show – first perfect 5-for-5 ever.

Zendaya (“Euphoria”) could set a record as the youngest actress, and the first Black actress, to win three Emmys in the Outstanding Lead Actress In A Drama Series category.

“The Pitt” has 25 nominations, and has already won 4 – including Ernest Harden Jr., who was wonderful as frequent patient Louie Cloverfield, as Guest Actor in a Drama.

“Paradise” star Shailene Woodley won for guest actress in a drama series. Her storyline was terrific. “Paradise” is up for 7, including St. Louis’ own Sterling K. Brown.

In the previous Emmy ceremonies last weekend, previously known as the Creative Awards Emmys, “Widow’s Bay,” Apple TV’s freshman show, won 8 – including Betty Gilpin in the origin story as Guest Actress in a Comedy. The show also picked up casting for a comedy series, music supervision, cinematography for a series (half hour), sound mixing for a comedy or drama series (half hour) and animation, sound editing for a comedy or drama series (half hour) and animation, music composition for a series (original dramatic score) and production design for a narrative program (half hour). Whew!

What about Kate O’Flynn supporting actress?
What a great cast. If Stephen Root wins – or his competition Harrison Ford for “Shrinking” – they will break Henry Winkler’s record for oldest winner in supporting actor in comedy – Ford is 84 and Root is 74, and Winkler was 72 in 2018 (for his wonderful portrayal of the acting teacher on “Barry.”)

“Widow’s Bay” could break the record for the most wins by a comedy series in a single year at the Emmys as well as the record for the most wins by a comedy series for its first season — the current record is held by “The Studio” (with 13 wins in 2025).

Hiro Murai (“Widow’s Bay”) could become the first Asian director to win in the Outstanding Directing For A Comedy Series category.

Other big hauls for Apple included “Pluribus” with four wins.

In the limited series category, “DTF St. Louis” has won six already – for directing, writing and supporting performances by David Harbour and Linda Cardellini as the Smerniches.

Wonder if they will mention the most emotional moment of the evening last week when the late Rob Reiner won the comedy guest actor Emmy, posthumously, for his role on “The Bear”?

“The Apple Music Super Bowl LX Halftime Show Starring Bad Bunny” won 7, including a win for the singer, outstanding choreography for variety or reality programming, outstanding production design for a variety special Bruce Rodgers), outstanding music direction and outstanding variety special (live).

It may be a big night for Stephen Colbert. His “Late Show” has already won 5 – for writing and for the finale.

As expected, “Margo’s Got Money Troubles” for hair, makeup and costumes. Will Michelle Pfeiffer win as Elle Fanning’s mom? She was not nominated for “The Madison” (I thought she would.)

Host Hargitay’s moving documentary about her mother, actress Jayne Mansfield, “My Mom Jayne,” won two – for outstanding documentary and direction.

Late-night talk show host Jimmy Kimmel won Best Game Show Host for , who won for “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?”). “

Sabrina Carpenter is now halfway to EGOT winning an Emmy in the outstanding variety special (pre-recorded) for “The Muppet Show.” Carpenter is created as an executive producer and performer for the series. Seth Rogen also took home his fifth Emmy award for his work as an executive producer.

Again, “The Traitors” dominated in the reality category. Alan Cumming won his fifth Emmy for outstanding host for a reality or reality competition program. Oscar winner Octavia Spencer won for outstanding narration for the docuseries “Lost Women of Alaska” (HBO Max). And Netflix’s “Love on a Spectrum” took home three Emmys.

Julie Andrews won her fourth Emmy, landing the award in the character voice-over performance category. This was her second win in the category. The first time around, Andrews made history as the oldest woman ever to win at age 89, and now she’s 90.

Comedy Central’s “South Park” won the animated program Emmy for the first time since 2013, thanks to its episode “Sermon On The ‘Mount.”

Prime Video’s “Spider-Noir” took home five Emmys just days after learning that the show had been canceled and wouldn’t return for a second season. Despite that unfortunate news, the series won for stunt performance, sound editing for a comedy or drama series (one hour), title design, special visual effects in a single episode and cinematography for a series (one hour).

More possible records:
Julianne Nicholson (“Paradise”) could become only the third actress to ever win acting Emmys in drama, comedy & limited series/TV movie categories, joining Merrit Wever and Cloris Leachman.

RuPaul could extend his record as the Black artist with the most Emmys won — he has won 14 Emmys and he is nominated for one more award in 2026 as a producer of “RuPaul’s Drag Race” in the Outstanding Reality Competition Program category.

Sally Field (“Remarkably Bright Creatures”) could become the oldest winner in the Outstanding Lead Actress In A Limited Series Or Anthology Series Or TV Movie category. The record is currently held by Jessica Tandy, who was 79 years, 2 months old when she won in 1988 for “Foxfire”; Field will be 79 years, 10 months old at the time of the 2026 Emmys ceremony.

Here are the categories tonight:
1. Outstanding Comedy Series
2. Outstanding Directing For A Comedy Series
3. Outstanding Directing For A Drama Series
4. Outstanding Drama Series
5. Outstanding Lead Actor In A Comedy Series
6. Outstanding Lead Actor In A Drama Series
7. Outstanding Lead Actor In A Limited Or Anthology Series Or Movie
8. Outstanding Lead Actress In A Comedy Series
9. Outstanding Lead Actress In A Drama Series
10. Outstanding Lead Actress In A Limited Or Anthology Series Or Movie
11. Outstanding Limited Or Anthology Series
12. Outstanding Reality Competition Program
13. Outstanding Supporting Actor In A Comedy Series
14. Outstanding Supporting Actor In A Drama Series
15. Outstanding Supporting Actress In A Comedy Series
16. Outstanding Supporting Actress In A Drama Series
17. Outstanding Variety Series
18. Outstanding Writing For A Comedy Series
19. Outstanding Writing For A Drama Series

And if you ponder to the Emmys drive audiences for viewership of nominated shows? Yes, yes, it does.

According to a Roku study, after last year’s Emmys, search for the 2025 winners in comedy, drama and limited series bumped up 330% in the week after the ceremony.

“The way people discover television has changed dramatically, but award recognition continues to have a meaningful influence on what viewers seek out,” said Roku head of analytics and insights Jon Merkin, who shares his results in a blog post out today. “That impact extends far beyond the ceremony itself. A nomination or win – dubbed the ‘Emmy Effect’ – can give a show an entirely new moment, helping viewers discover great television they may have otherwise missed when it premiered.”

This year, the 2026 Emmy noms triggered a 56% increase in search volume for limited/anthology titles (naturally, the biggest increase since those are all new programs), a 23% search bump for drama nominees and 19% jump for comedies.

Among specific titles, Netflix’s “The Beast In Me” and Peacock’s “All Her Fault” saw search increase by 76%. That was followed by HBO Max’s “Hacks” (up 65%), Netflix’s “Beef” (up 54%) and Netflix’s “The Diplomat” (up 53%).

Wins can help even more: Roku reports that after their 2025 wins, Netflix’s “Adolescence” saw searches increase 14x, while Apple TV’s “The Studio” grew 5.7x and HBO Max’s “The Pitt” increased 2.8x. Roku looked especially at how “The Studio” received what it essentially deems a “second premiere event” after the win, as search for the show in the week after its win was 81% higher than what it was the week of its original premiere.

Also, Roku notes that search changed by region after the Emmy success of a show like “Adolescence,” which saw search grow in Midwestern and Southeastern states after it won limited/anthology series last year.

As for this year’s nominated series, for a full year’s Roku search volume between September 2025 and August 2026, ABC’s “Abbott Elementary” led in comedy, followed by Hulu’s “Only Murders in the Building” and FX’s “The Bear.”

In drama, HBO Max’s “The Pitt” led in searches, followed by Hulu’s “Paradise” and Apple TV’s “Pluribus.” And in limited/anthology, Peacock’s “All Her Fault” led, followed by FX’s “Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette” and then HBO Max’s “DTF St. Louis.”

“Awards season remains an important discovery moment because it gives viewers a decisive signal of quality as they navigate an enormous amount of great television,” Merkin said. “The ceremony may be one night, but its influence plays out in proactive discovery long after the awards are handed out.”

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By Alex McPherson

A zombie actioner that makes up for its narrative weaknesses with bone-contorting gusto and ruthless sensibilities, director Yeon Sang-ho’s “Colony” hits the sweet spot of gnarly entertainment.

Taking place in modern day Seoul, South Korea, the film opens with disgruntled biochemist Seo Young-chul (Koo Kyo-hwan) warning police that he’s preparing to launch a bioterrorist attack at the Dongwoo-ri conference building using redesigned slime molds.

He also injects himself with the supposed vaccine, making his survival essential to containing the mysterious virus he’s about to unleash on unsuspecting conference goers — and on one higher-up in particular. 

Biotech CEO Kang Woo-chul (Kim Jong-tae) is giving a presentation on bioengineered slime molds that are designed to enable cell regeneration and “hive mind” collective intelligence. Scientist Han Kyo-seong (Go Soo) is attending the talk with his prickly (and unemployed) ex-wife Kwon Se-jeong (Gianna Jun), hoping to land her a job with Woo-chul’s company, Chains Bio. 

Unfortunately, her job prospects are quickly dashed, as Young-chul injects Woo-chul with a syringe filled with the slime mold material he accuses Woo-chul of plagiarizing. This prompts Woo-chul to vomit extravagantly and transform into a goopy, fast-running creature (pretty much a zombie) hungry for human flesh and having an affinity for impressively floppy parkour

The killcount rises as Woo-chul bites and infects everyone within sight, while Kyo-seong and Se-jeong scramble for safety, trapped in the building as the whole place becomes overrun with the infected. 

These aren’t just any ordinary zombies, though. They’re all connected through a kind of swarm intelligence, able to learn and evolve on the fly as each new bug in the system is gradually accounted for, every link of the chain privy to the same knowledge. Absorbing new information causes them to stare mouth agape at the ceiling (a sound equivalent to a demonic cow mooing plays), before becoming “upgraded.”

They are constantly evolving as a unit and accounting for inconsistencies (like, for example, initially mistaking people on poster advertisements for flesh-and-blood humans). 

Kyo-seong and Se-jeong soon encounter off-duty security guard Choi Hyun-seok (Ji Chang-wook) and his wheelchair-dependent sister Hyun-hee (Kim Shin-rok), along with counterterrorism leader Lee Bong-seok (Lee Joong-ok) and some panicking teenagers. T

he group is soon on a mission to find Young-chul and escape the building, hopefully preventing the spread of this wild outbreak along the way. Time is running out, and “Colony” makes no qualms about how profoundly screwed they all are, and how quickly they will betray each other.

Chaos ensues. Sure, “Colony” isn’t high art, nor is it particularly groundbreaking from a narrative standpoint. There’s also plenty to critique when just looking at characters’ moment-to-moment logic, which, at times, seems explicitly tuned for maximum death. But “Colony” still leaps along with a propulsive sense of nihilistic glee. 

Sang-ho and Choi Gyu-seok’s screenplay sidelines thematic depth for a series of escalating set pieces and thrillingly dynamic camerawork that keeps the pacing swift, the gore flowing freely, and the fun factor extremely high from start to finish — rarely pausing for more than a few minutes before launching its unlucky group into new scenarios dealing with the ever-changing, bloodthirsty horde.

Indeed, for all its cynicism, “Colony” is pretty damn charming if one doesn’t think too hard about things. And, to the film’s credit, Sang-ho doesn’t give us enough time to think.

None of these characters are particularly compelling, but the ensemble makes do, mainly Jun, who brings a sense of resourceful badassery that’s a great avenue for the film’s increasing stakes and peril. Chang-wook and Shin-rok carry much of the film’s (limited) pathos, leaning into melodrama late in the film that doesn’t fully land.

Kyo-hwan, on the other hand, is fully on the film’s deranged wavelength — a slick-haired, mischievous Big Bad waltzing through crowds of zombies with snarky gusto. Gone are the “failures of communication” that plague the human race, according to Woo-chul: the zombies are an improvement. Sure, dude.

But when one looks past the simplicity and lack of meaningful character development, “Colony” is a blast, with cinematographer Byun Bong-sun throwing us into elaborately choreographed carnage and claustrophobic standoffs with life-or-death stakes and a devilish sense of humor. The stunt team deserves a special shoutout.

These zombies are terrifying more because of their athleticism than their appearance, and we get to see their brains develop in real-time as “Colony” digs our trapped people further and further into their own graves. 

By the time “Colony” wraps up, it’s practically an all-out action film, almost Michael Bay-esque. And I had a big dumb grin on my face the entire time. Sometimes, that’s all one can really ask for, and this film delivers — nothing more, nothing less.

“Colony” is a 2026 Korean zombie horror movie directed by Yeon Sang-ho and starring Jun Ji-hyun, Koo Kyo-hwan, Kim Shin-rock, Shin Hyeon-bin, Go Soo and Kim Jong-tae. It is rated R for bloody violent content and some language and runs 2 hours, 2 minutes. It showed at the Hi-Pointe Theatre Aug. 28 – Aug. 31. Alex’s Grade: B+  

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By Lynn Venhaus
Letting our inner child out for an adult Looney Tunes excursion is a splendid way to cap off summer. When it’s as clever and sharp as “Coyote vs. Acme,” the joys are many.

Perennial underdog Wile E. Coyote faces an even bigger challenge than that pesky speedy Road Runner when he lawyers up and sues corporate monopoly Acme over faulty products. After all, he’s experienced decades of explosive misfortunes, so why not a class-action lawsuit?

In the inventive style of groundbreaking 1988 film “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” and Emmy-winning 2022 film “Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers,” this live-action animated hybrid comedy is remarkably on point as a satire, but the nostalgia is elevated, too, respecting those merry melodies.

Founded in 1930 and nurtured during the golden age of animation, Looney Tunes specialized in wild slapstick comedy, dandy wordplay, funny visual gags and topical humor. A staple of Warner Brothers, first as shorts before movies, then on television: “That’s all, folks!”

As a nod to the legacy, the film honors directors Chuck Jones and Tex Avery and writer Michael Maltese (co-creator of Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner) with the law firm Jones, Avery and Maltese. The lawyers include Kevin Avery (Will Forte), Dottie Jones (Martha Kelly), Sal Maltese (Tone Bell), and Kevin’s niece Paige Avery, a go-getter intern played by the spirited Lana Condor.

The gang’s all here too – hapless Porky Pig, high-strung Daffy Duck, sly Bugs Bunny, flustered Elmer Fudd, resourceful Tweety, impatient Sylvester, hot-tempered Yosemite Sam, fast-talking trickster Foghorn Leghorn, wild and ferocious Tasmanian Devil – and Granny.

Most anamorphic animal characters are voiced by the uncanny Eric Bauza, a voice actor considered the successor to Looney Tunes legend Mel Blanc. Bauza has won three Emmys for his cartoon performances.

The ingenious story pits blustery small-time attorney Forte against slick corporate counsel John Cena as Buddy Crane, who clash often about consumer rights. Wile E. seeks compensation for all those catastrophes. But the profit-obsessed conglomerate has things to hide and its victims more to say.

The original story, by St. Louisan James Gunn, Jeremy Slater and Samy Burch, with screenplay by Oscar nominee Burch (“May December”), tackles corporate greed and parodies philosopher Albert Camus on our self-destructive absurdities – “The Myth of Sisyphus.” Their courtroom concept was inspired by a 1990 New Yorker article by Ian Frazier.

You know that hungry, determined coyote is never going to stop rolling that boulder up a hill, no matter how many times it will mow him down. There is dignity in his futility, rather Shakespearean at times.

Director Dave Green maintains the cartoon’s chaotic wackiness, and the visuals are bright, fresh and funny. Coyote’s struggles mirror our lives – the fight we keep fighting, no matter if it’s detrimental for us. Because that’s how we roll.

The film is chock-full of Easter eggs and ingenious nods. The playful score by Steven Price includes a “Meep Meep Road Runner Choir” that enhances Tchaikovsky’s1812 Overture.

The never-say-die story has taken on special meaning because of the backstory involving Warner Brothers Discovery CEO David Zaslav, who decided to ditch the movie as a tax write-off after post-production in 2022. Folks found out at the 2023 San Diego Comic Con, and that fueled a vocal fan response. 

And unlike that coyote, persistence and resilience won the day here, for another distributor, Ketchup Entertainment, is now releasing the film. And it’s worth rallying around not just because it’s a cause célèbres, but because it’s a darn fine movie. (And now Warner is in the process of a merger with Paramount Skydance.)

At the end of the closing credits there is a dedication: “To everyone who posted, shared, held up signs, and spoke out when it counted. This film made it to the big screen because of you.”

“Coyote vs. Acme” is an entertaining triumph for the filmmakers and a testament to the little guy to never give up.

“Coyote vs. Acme” is a 2026 animated live action hybrid comedy directed by Dave Green and starring Will Forte, John Cena, Lana Condor, Martha Kelly, and Tone Bell. It is rated PG and runtime is 1 hour, 41 minutes. It opened in theatres Aug. 28. Lynn’s Grade: B+.

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By Lynn Venhaus

Calls to action come in familiar places – neighborhoods, schools, and city halls, which we know produce results because of the recent primary election and other grassroots activism on display in St. Louis.

And who knows? Maybe even a theater. Playwrights can sound a clarion call like moms, nuclear scientists and teachers do. Produced by SATE, an original play “Confetti Kids” by Aurora Behlke kicks of their “Season of Motherhood.”

And sometimes, the lead character can be a nifty combo of all three — a mom, nuclear scientist and teacher. Such is the protagonist Dr. Rachel Graves, who is realized by Nicole Angeli, in a quietly devastating, emotionally shattering performance.

Behlke uses humor and hope to spotlight the enduring public health and environmental crisis from World War II radioactive waste contamination in Coldwater Creek and the north St. Louis County communities.

Adam Flores as Daniel and Nicole Angeli as Rachel. Photo by Joey Rumpell.

Sure, it’s from a long time ago, but the ripple effect is enormous – generations of St. Louisans and new hot spots continue to surface, therefore it is very much a contemporary issue, and it affects us all as a region.

The past is going to collide with the present, and not in a good way. The world that Rachel desperately tries to control is unraveling. She is on the front lines of the nuclear waste crisis as the community confronts this decades-old contamination near her daughter’s high school.

Behlke tells this story through relatable relationships – the single mother’s only child Maya (Tia Renee Williams), the mother’s friend Daniel (Adam Flores) and the daughter’s teacher Vera (Hailey Medrano).

While Rachel is naturally drawn to the fight for environmental justice, she wants to protect her teenage daughter, and that makes her guarded and vulnerable. Maya’s world is one of drama – friendship issues and prom preparations are priorities.

Nicole Angeli and Hailey Medrano. Photo by Joey Rumpell.

Because of those rites of passage, her mother doesn’t want to distract, so she keeps her significant medical news to herself, despite her friend , who is also a doctor, urging her to tell Maya and start treatment.

In his grounded way, Adam Flores plays the sincere caring friend. He also expresses frustration by Rachel’s stubbornness and what he perceives to be inaction and poor decisions.

A natural dynamo, Tia Williams continues to impress after her first local stage performance this spring as Juliet in A Chorus of Fools’ “Romeo and Juliet.” While she’s not exactly in the age range of high school students, she’s still a bright spot here.

While the provocative play weaves a history lesson into a lecture by Rachel, who recently lost her professor job, these are not dry textbook examples – these relate to the humans affected.

Mother and daughter. Photo by Joey Rumpell.

For the unfamiliar, starting in 1942, Mallinckrodt Chemical Works downtown St. Louis processed uranium for the first atomic bombs. That resulted in the Manhattan Project nuclear waste being uncontained in North St. Louis County.

Byproducts containing radium, thorium and uranium were moved to poorly secured sites near Lambert Airport and piled openly along Latty Avenue. Rainwater and floods washed radioactive materials into the 19-mile Coldwater Creek and the West Lake Landfill, contaminating neighboring suburban yards, parks and schools.

Residents have documented staggering clusters of rare cancers, autoimmune diseases, and birth defects. Grassroots activism, led by such groups as Just Moms STL and the North County Community Advisory Group, is pushing to expand radioactive soil testing and expedite the multi-million-dollar cleanup of Coldwater Creek.

The play’s audio includes sounds of a child playing in the creek accompanied by her mother, which would be innocuous if we didn’t know the frightening implications, and why we’re hearing it. Studies have linked those living near the creek in childhood to having significantly higher rates of various cancers.

Confetti of course. Photo by Joey Rumpell.

The very real consequences of neighbors walking, kids playing, and families spending time with each other have led to unimaginable horrors scarier than anything Stephen King has conjured up in his more than 65 novels.

One must mention Jana Elementary School in Florissant, part of the Hazelwood School District, which closed in late 2022 after independent tests found radioactive contamination there. The building is now a district logistics and storage center, and the students were shifted to other schools. This place is part of Behlke’s story.

Rachel reluctantly delivers a PTA lecture, at the urging of an overzealous teacher marvelously embodied by Hailey Medrano, which is a way to detail all the accurate historic facts.

Rachel acknowledges the conflicting safety reports between private testers and federal agencies, with the EPA on hand, too. Behlke has painstakingly researched this subject, and the result is a passion project that has legitimate staying power and perhaps can advance more discussion, more activism and more understanding.

Adam Flores, Nicole Angeli, Tia Williams and Hailey Medrano. Photo by Joey Rumpell.

The basics – that neighborhoods and schools should be a safe and healthy place to learn, work, and play – are no longer a given. And that should send a chill down your spine. That’s why Rachel wants to carry the torch for action and reform.

One of her most powerful lines: “…and I will fight. Because I guess that’s what moms do. Love so hard it becomes a fight.”

Don’t ever discount a mom. While the subject matter is serious, Behlke also included character traits to make sure community advocacy is appealing. She has engaged with small details – including an enthusiastic first-year teacher who runs on caffeine and home-baked treats – and a desire to genuinely shift the narrative.

In this 90-minute one-act show, the ensemble delivers poignant and affecting portraits of people you may interact with daily. Director Kristen Strom allows this tender tale to unfold in a realistic way, showcasing flawed characters and the performers’ instincts for nuance. Angeli and Williams are convincing as the close-knit mother and daughter, and the other relationships are earnest as well.

Grooving to Donna Summer. Photo by Joey Rumpell.

Pitch-perfect sound design by Ellie Schwetye, and video/ projection designs by Eric Satterfield add to the message’s urgency. Theresa Comstock’s lighting design and Erik Kuhn’s set design give this intimate play a cozy feel, and director Kristen Strom has adroitly staged the action for maximum effect. Kayla Lindsay’s costume designs project personality and Cecile “Cece” Entz’s prop work helps the atmosphere.

A finalist in St. Louis Shakespeare Festival’s Confluence Writers Project in 2024, which spotlights Midwest stories, Behlke is an intriguing emerging voice that was mentored by three prominent local playwrights – Courtney Bailey, Taylor Gruenloh and Deanna Jent.

Communities come in all configurations, and one seems to have been born through audience engagement during “Confetti Kids.” The impactful work is not finished by any means.

(And special mention to stage manager Jim Bernatowicz and assistant stage manager Tara Laurel for managing all that confetti.)

“Confetti Kids” by Aurora Behlke is a world premiere, with performances Aug. 20–Sept. 5, Thursdays through Saturdays at 7 p.m., at The Chapel, 6238 Alexander Drive (63105). Tickets are $20 for artists, seniors, and students; $25 for general admission; and are available through Eventbrite.

Prom Night. Photo by Joey Rumpell.
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By Lynn Venhaus
 Ah, one magical summer when you’re in college and trying to figure out your place in the world. “Tony” takes that relatable premise, and presents the birth of Anthony Bourdain, future renowned chef and food/travel writer/celebrity.

Loosely based on the late Bourdain’s 2000 memoir, “Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly,” 19-year-old Tony is an arrogant jerk who is directionless and lies compulsively to impress.

As with all conventional biopics these days, he will face major turning points and a new direction, finding his voice and a passion for food under the tutelage of an older, wiser chef.

Set in 1975, Bourdain is attending Vassar College, and returns home to New Jersey for the summer, convinced he will be awarded a writing fellowship. When that doesn’t happen, he impulsively follows his crush to Provincetown, Mass., where she is staying with friends.

Dominic Sessa, Antonio Banderas in “Tony.”

Dominic Sessa, who earned an Oscar nomination for his remarkable breakthrough performance in “The Holdovers,” captures Bourdain’s cockiness and confusion at personal crossroads. It’s a striking leading man turn, hopefully a harbinger for more good work to follow.

In the book, Bourdain described himself at that age as “a spoiled, miserable, narcissistic, self-destructive and thoughtless young lout, and badly in need of a good ass-kicking.”

Penniless, he works as a dishwasher so he can stay in P-town. A ramshackle casual seafood restaurant, the Flagship, becomes the film’s beating heart. Antonio Banderas is steadfast as a kind but strict chef-owner from Brazil who mentors the sweaty staff. While a composite character, Chef becomes the film’s moral center.

Writer-director Matt Johnson, whose 2023 film “BlackBerry” was impressive in taking a true story and making it compelling drama, thrives in a chaotic kitchen environment, heightening the personal conflicts. That’s when the film is at its best.

Dominic Sessa, Leo Woodall in “Tony.”

The kitchen crew includes Leo Woodall, who’s having a moment, as the swaggering, hot-headed ladies’ man Sal. A reckless drug user, he introduces Tony to the partying lifestyle side of some food workers.

The kitchen brotherhood includes Stavros Halkias as salty line cook Stavros and Michael Jibrin as veteran cook Tyrone. Through trial and error, Tony learns discipline and the courage to try new things, but also the camaraderie of family meals, finding purpose and a creative outlet.

The romance angle doesn’t work as well, with Johnson dwelling too much on facial close-ups of Emilia Jones as Nancy. Granted, she’s a fine actress, as “CODA” proved, but it seems to lessen the film’s tumultuous gritty vibe. (Fun fact: Nancy Putkoski was Bourdain’s high school sweetheart, and she did work the counter at Spiritus Pizza. They eventually married in 1985 and divorced in 2005.)

As an origin story where the before is awkward, Sessa slyly shapes Tony’s future self, developing his culinary pursuits and figuring out priorities. Second chances and redemption win out in the script Johnson co-wrote with Todd Bartels, Lou Howe and Matthew Miller. He understands how harsh lessons teach us the most.

Dominic Sessa as Tony at The Flagship.

As he begins to flourish, you can see Bourdain’s promise. As we know, he will eventually head for parts unknown — prestigious culinary training, becoming an acclaimed chef, opening restaurants, excelling as a charismatic and candid television host, and traveling the world.

As documented in interviews and in the 2021 documentary “Roadrunner” by Morgan Neville, Bourdain struggled openly with addiction and mental health issues during his life. His journey was both a glorious and difficult ride before he took his own life in 2018. He was 61.

But the movie doesn’t depict that evolution or life summary, just the beginning of his ambitious pursuits. His life-changing summer, while fictionalized, remains a rich subject to illustrate.

Cinematographer Michael Bauman, Oscar-nominated for “One Battle After Another,” beautifully captures Cape Cod in its sun-drenched glory while production designer Ryan Warren Smith has nailed the 1970s summer beach party vibe as well as a messy, cramped restaurant kitchen.

Dominic Sessa, Emilia Jones in Provincetown.

Composer Jay McCarrol’s minimalist music choices compliment the narrative well, with sea-inspired sounds, moody guitars and a worn wood piano reflecting Tony’s journey. Some of the ‘70s party needle drops include “Hollywood Swinging” by Kool & The Gang and “A Fifth of Beethoven” by Walter Murphy while the rebellious punk spirit is showcased in “Down on the Streets” by The Stooges.

Despite some pacing issues, and an unlikable protagonist for two-thirds of the story, “Tony” is an enjoyable coming-of-age story, immersed in a time and a place. At least we know he gets his act together to become one of the most influential culinary figures in the world – that helps.

“Tony” is a 2026 coming-of-age docudrama directed by Matt Johnson and starring Dominic Sessa, Antonio Banderas, Emilia Jones, Leo Woodall, Stavros Halkias, Michael Jibrin, Dagmara Dominczyk and Rich Sommer. Rated: R for pervasive language, drug use, and sexual content/nudity and run time is 1 hour, 46 minutes. It opened in theatres on Aug. 21. Lynn’s grade: B.

Antonio Banderas, Dominic Sessa in “Tony.”
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By Alex McPherson

Director Jane Schoenbrun’s surrealist meta–slasher-satire-character-study “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is ambitious and wholly unique, even if occasionally muddled by the weight of its dense ideas.

We follow Kris Williams (Hannah Einbinder), an academic queer filmmaker hired by a big studio to direct a reboot of the “Camp Miasma” slasher-film franchise. The series has, over the years, become reduced to bargain-bin sequels and cultural irrelevance, beautifully visualized in a nostalgic, acerbic opening title sequence.

The villain, “Little Death,” wears an HVAC air vent on their head and carries a spear, skewering any poor soul who dares to stay at the titular camp.

Kris has always felt a special attachment to the series (“special attachment” is an understatement, as we later find out). She wants to make the original’s “Final Girl” Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson) the main character of this new outing. Studio reps and her agent (played by Sarah Sherman) aren’t thrilled, and are more interested in Kris sanitizing and “de-cancelling” the franchise’s transphobic core for a modern audience. 

Hannah Einbinder and Gillian Anderson.

Billy retired from acting after the original film was released, but Kris sees an opportunity to capture that initial spark. It’s all the better, and weirder, that Billy now resides at a remote lakeside cabin in the Pacific Northwest at Camp Rivoli, the abandoned campground where the first “Miasma” was filmed.

Things are strange from the get-go, with Kris barely being able to find Camp Rivoli and wandering into a local cinema. A projector flickers to life and Kris watches the scene where young Billy (Amanda Fix) loses her virginity before being stabbed by Little Death — the sequence that stuck with Kris the most, even if she can’t quite identify why it has that effect on her. 

She then meets present-day Billy, who resembles Norma Desmond from “Sunset Boulevard” with a southern twang, seductive aura, and love of weed. The two quickly bond over a basket of KFC chicken tenders and grow closer from there.

They both deconstruct their attachment to the “Miasma” franchise and find new avenues to explore — namely, further unlocking desire, pleasure, and good ‘ole cinephilia amid the blood-drenched fantasy of Little Death.

“Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is, like Schoenbrun’s previous “I Saw the TV Glow,” not for all tastes, so obviously personal that it threatens to leave behind viewers who aren’t willing to go along with its swerving rhythms. 

Indeed, Schoenbrun’s latest project has a ton on its mind, from critiquing the slasher genre and the injustices of studio moviemaking to, most successfully, examining the powerful influence that films can have over our sense of self. There’s too much going on at any given point, but it’s a compulsively watchable mess that ultimately couldn’t be any other way.

Much of “Camp Miasma” rests on the shoulders of Einbinder and Anderson, and they’re both fully up to the task. Einbinder is the standout — able to show Kris’s evolution from high-strung, awkward, nerdy intellectual to someone gradually breaking through their shell to embrace their true desires. 

It’s a tough tightrope to walk, and it’s to Einbinder’s credit that Kris never becomes unlikable, just restrained by societal expectations and unsure of what they truly want in life; there’s also a deep connection to Billy and Little Death that defies traditional reason.

Einbinder is able to flex her comedic chops from time to time, but Schoenbrun’s screenplay treats her character arc seriously, maintaining a mostly successful throughline that continues Schoenbrun’s interest in the complex ways that media can shape us.

Einbinder and Anderson’s chemistry sizzles, and Anderson nails the balance between campiness and sincerity. Billy supports Kris from the jump, but she believes that Kris misunderstands the core of the “Miasma” series and its carnal appeals, which are more base but no less impactful.

Schoenbrun’s direction is, yet again, outstanding, making Camp Rivoli a setting out-of-time and existing in a liminal space between reality and fantasy, complete with dazzling matte paintings and an almost fairy-tale aesthetic. 

Much of the film is spent watching the film-within-the-film (with an ensemble including Eva Victor and Zach Cherry), similar to “TV Glow,” which Schoenbrun recreates with strong attention to period detail. They lean into the cheesiness inherent in its “Friday the 13th” and “Sleepaway Camp” influences while painting Little Death as exacting a sort of justified vengeance.

One ultraviolent sequence in particular, set to a melancholic country song, is cartoonishly gruesome and, perhaps counterintuitively, meditative.

There’s a certain point in Schoenbrun’s film, though, especially when the lines between fantasy and reality are blurred, that it becomes overwhelming and overstuffed. It loses some of its charm to the exhausting throes of self-indulgence. 

At these points, along with some perhaps overly broad commentary on the state of the movie industry, it seems like Schoenbrun throws everything at the wall to see what sticks (literally, in some cases). They sacrifice coherence for pure “feeling” — not inherently a problem, but alienating as new elements keep getting introduced that clumsily fit into the unruly tapestry Schoenbrun has been building.

So, while not as poignant as “TV Glow,” “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is still entirely like nothing else, another example of experimental filmmaking that deserves support whether or not its wild swings fully connect.

“Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” is a 2026 horror film directed by Jane Schoenbrun that stars Gillian Anderson, Hannah Einbinder, Eva Victor, Zach Cherry, Amanda Fix, and Sarah Sherman. It is rated R for bloody violence, gore, sexual content, graphic nudity, drug use and some language, and the run time is 1 hour, 52 minutes. It opened in local theatres Aug. 21. Alex’s Grade: B+

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