It should not be a surprise that “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma ” (2026), the new psychosexual meta-slasher from director Jane Schoenbrun, would become an instant repertory cinema staple. Schoenbrun’s story of a young queer filmmaker seeking out the “final girl” of a problematic ’80s slasher is practically made for movie obsessives. With its wealth of in-jokes and references, it also lends itself to any number of thematically appropriate double features. This weekend, the Brattle Theatre kicks off the first of what is sure to be many engagements of the instant cult classic. What’s more, the matinee screenings on Saturday and Sunday pair it with one of its prime influences: Billy Wilder’s “Sunset Boulevard” (1950). Like “Camp Miasma,” “Sunset Boulevard” is steeped in (and frequently critical of) cinematic history, and Gloria Swanson’s faded movie queen Norma Desmond would certainly have a lot to talk about with Gillian Anderson’s Billy Presley. The existence of filmmakers like Schoenbrun proves Desmond’s famous idiom wrong: The pictures haven’t gotten small at all.
On Saturday, the Harvard Film Archive continues its student-programmed series of nostalgia-themed matinees with some nostalgia of a more recent vintage. Shunji Iwai’s “All About Lily Chou-Chou” (2001) is an artifact of the early digital age in more ways than one. Its story, about a group of teenagers obsessed with the titular fictional pop star, provides a glimpse of adolescence under Web 1.0, when teens communicated via message boards and instant messages. If this world feels particularly well-realized, it’s because Iwai first developed the story as an experimental novel in the form of an online forum, where he invited readers to post and interact with the characters themselves. Iwai complements this early-2000s aesthetic by shooting in digital video, giving his film a jittery, experimental feel. For those older or younger than its characters, “Lily Chou-Chou” might seem like fantasy or science fiction, but viewers who were teenagers in the early 2000s will be taken straight back to their youth.
If you’ve spent any time in Harvard Square — particularly as a student — you’ve probably grabbed a slice or two at Pinocchio’s Pizza. On Sunday, the Harvard Albanian Students Association holds court at Harvard’s Boylston Hall to host the premiere of a new documentary, “Pinocchio’s Harvard” (2026), all about Cambridge’s favorite pizzeria. In attendance will be director Valmir Tertini, line producer Emiliano Biraku and Pinocchio’s owner Adam DiCenso, along with host Nicole Lee and NBC10 film critic Sarah G. Vincent. The best part? In the likely event that the film makes you hungry, Pinocchio’s is just a five-minute walk away.
On Tuesday, the Somerville Theatre ’s inaugural Cult Cinema Tuesdays series comes to a close with one of the most quintessential cult classics of the modern era. At the time of its release, neither critics nor audiences were sure what to make of “The Big Lebowski” (1998); the Coen brothers’ shaggy comedy-noir was a far cry from the understated thrills of their breakthrough “Fargo” (1996), and it was largely written off as a misstep. Those who did love it, however, really loved it, and it quickly became something of a secret handshake among alternative cinephiles. Today, “Lebowski” is among the most universally acclaimed of modern comedies, and Jeff Bridges’ slacker antihero the Dude is a bona fide icon. Now, more than ever, the Dude abides.
On Wednesday, the Somerville presents one of the greatest blockbusters of all time, in arguably its ideal format. In “Aliens” (1986), director James Cameron set the template for the following several decades’ worth of sci-fi action filmmaking, expanding the universe of Ridley Scott’s claustrophobic classic “Alien” (1979) into an all-out intergalactic war epic. Revived from her cryogenic slumber more than half a century after the events of the first film, Sigourney Weaver’s Ellen Ripley is once again dragged into a nest of xenomorphs by the shadowy Weyland-Yutani corporation, this time alongside a platoon of gung-ho space marines (including Lance Henriksen as an android and a scene-stealing Bill Paxton). Even this early in his career, Cameron had a knack for widescreen spectacle, filling the screen with cavernous sets and eye-popping creature effects. To present the film in all its glory, the Somerville will be projecting it from a rare 70 mm print. You’ll practically feel the alien queen’s grotesque drool dripping from the screen.
Also on Wednesday, the good folks at the Somerville Ciné-Club return to the Somerville Public Library (West Branch) for another free screening of a rarely shown classic. The second entry in director Mabel Cheung’s informal “Migration Trilogy,” “An Autumn’s Tale” (1987) is one of the most beloved films of the Hong Kong New Wave. Cherie Chung plays Jennifer, a Hong Kong expat in New York who must strike up an uneasy bond with her distant cousin, Sam (the great Chow Yun-fat). “An Autumn’s Tale” is a wistful and charming coming-of-age tale, with pricelessly autumnal ’80s New York location footage (a perfect follow-up to last week’s “Location Location Location” series at the Brattle). As always with Ciné-Club screenings, viewers are invited to discuss the film afterward with their fellow community members, making this an ideal outing as the leaves begin to turn.


