We’re All Going to the World’s Fair: An Intimate Coming-of-Age Horror Masterpiece

As Jane Schoenbrun’s latest film, *Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma*, continues its theatrical run, there’s no better moment to revisit their groundbreaking debut, *We’re All Going to the World’s Fair*. This intimate coming-of-age horror film, which first premiered in 2021, has only grown in relevance as we navigate an increasingly digital world in 2026. The film follows Casey, a lonely teenager living in a quiet suburban town, who decides to participate in an online challenge known as the World’s Fair. The challenge promises to transform participants, but as Casey documents her experience, the line between reality and digital fiction blurs. Schoenbrun crafts a haunting portrait of adolescence that speaks directly to a generation raised on screens, where identity is performed and isolation is communal. Schoenbrun, who has since become a defining voice in queer indie cinema, uses horror not as a series of jump scares but as a slow-burning psychological unease. The film’s genius lies in its ambiguity—are the transformations real, or are they the product of a troubled mind seeking connection? This uncertainty mirrors the anxieties of modern teen life, where online personas often overshadow authentic selves. In the context of 2026, *We’re All Going to the World’s Fair* feels prophetic. With social media platforms evolving and virtual realities becoming more immersive, Schoenbrun’s exploration of digital alienation resonates louder than ever. The film’s use of webcam aesthetics and glitchy visuals, once seen as low-budget quirks, now read as a deliberate commentary on the mediated nature of contemporary existence. What sets this film apart is its tender handling of its protagonist. Anna Cobb, in her debut role, delivers a raw, vulnerable performance that anchors the film’s emotional core. Her quiet desperation is palpable, making the horror deeply personal rather than gratuitous. Schoenbrun eschews traditional narrative structure, allowing Casey’s story to unfold in fragments—video logs, forum posts, and ephemeral online interactions—that capture the disjointed nature of growing up in the digital age. The film also subverts coming-of-age tropes. There’s no triumphant resolution or clear moral lesson. Instead, Schoenbrun leaves us with an open-ended, unsettling conclusion that lingers long after the credits roll. This refusal to provide easy answers is a bold statement on the complexities of identity and the search for belonging. As *Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma* draws audiences to theaters, it’s the perfect time to appreciate how Schoenbrun’s vision has evolved. Their debut remains a touchstone for a new wave of horror that prioritizes interiority over spectacle. For those who missed it, *We’re All Going to the World’s Fair* is now available on streaming platforms, offering a haunting, beautiful, and deeply human experience that will only grow in stature. In a landscape saturated with franchise horror, Schoenbrun continues to prove that the most frightening stories are those that reflect our own vulnerabilities. This film is not just a debut; it’s a statement of intent from one of cinema’s most exciting voices.

via The Verge