Jane Schoenbrun’s latest film, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, is making a splash in theaters right now. So it seems like the perfect time to revisit their first film, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair. I fell in love with this film when I first saw it at Sundance in 2021.

We are immediately introduced to our protagonist, Casey, as she engages in the World’s Fair Challenge, a sort of ARG creepypasta meets ice bucket challenge. There’s a creepy mantra, some bloodletting, and a mysterious video — basically a speedrun of horror movie tropes. But having them all delivered by this young girl alone in her room who just stares directly into her webcam the whole time is unsettling. And I actually physically recoiled when she jabbed herself repeatedly with a pin to draw blood.

The idea is that people perform the ritual and then they’re supposed to change in some sort of nebulous way. It’s set up as some sort of “game” where people are supposed to report their symptoms, as they turn into plastic or their guts and become Tetris pieces.

Ultimately, World’s Fair is a coming-of-age story about a lonely young girl. She’s never shown talking to kids her own age. Her father is never seen, only heard, and does nothing but yell. She desperately attempts to connect with others by uploading videos documenting the changes she experiences after performing the challenge.

Importantly, unlike many other coming-of-age films, World’s Fair isn’t about Casey’s sexual awakening and avoids sexualizing her entirely. Instead, it’s about her search for belonging in an extremely online world.

Basically the only other character to get any screen time is JLB, a lonely middle-aged man who claims Casey is in danger. The relationship between JLB and Casey adds another layer of unease to the film, which already blends horror elements with uncomfortably intimate glimpses into the life of a young girl. The whole thing has a voyeuristic quality. It’s never explicitly stated, but it certainly seems like JLB is attempting to groom the vulnerable Casey.

The movie stews in its uncomfortable ambiguity. And that’s part of what makes it great. It may not reach the surreal or campy heights of I Saw the TV Glow or Camp Miasma, but it’s a rare indie cinema original that uses body horror tropes in new and interesting ways.