First Watch: Camp Miasma and possible Explanation.
The movie is... a movie.
Before you say the loudest, most sarcastic "Duh" of your life, let me explain.
First of all, the ending. The most obvious clue: both women wake up after what was a night of carnage, and any viewer is definitely disoriented seeing the women's composure and can't help but wonder what the hell happened, if the movie is actually going to be made, or what.
That's the twist: The movie was already made, and it's the one we saw.
Except it's not the movie directed by Kris, but rather, it's directed by the killer himself. That's why the movie starts in a POV where he's not just another member of the crew, he's the director.
There are more hints of that.
Throughout the entire movie, there's an abundance of completely blatant product placement. This isn't just a way of showing the kind of movie the studio wants Kris to make—cinematic garbage—but also to show that the film made by the killer is riddled with product placement to make it more "believable."
Also, there's the trope of the survivor from the first film returning many years later. You know, an old woman in her 60s who comes back with a shotgun, ready to kill the killer. The film takes this trope to the extreme by having Presley live at the camp from the original film, which still looks like a set. (Because, in fact, it is.)
At one point, the director mocks the nostalgia-driven nature of these films by literally recreating the original Camp Miasma. It's well known that many sequels try to copy the original formula as closely as possible, appealing to nostalgia almost as blackmail to keep you in the theater.
But internally, I think the film is about something very specific: the search for identity. Like I Saw the TV Glow, this is a film starring a person who is unhappy and constantly confused about themselves.
While in the previous film, Owen represented the fear of admitting that one is not comfortable with their gender, in this one, Kris represents sexual liberation.
Kris is uncomfortable with her partner. She says she's in a polyamorous relationship, but both Billy and the viewer realize that she's not comfortable with the situation, staying in the relationship only out of fear of losing her girlfriend. Come on, the woman is so idiotic and toxic that she even sends him a picture of her lover wishing him goodnight while Kris tries to talk to him about how excited she is to meet her favorite celebrity.
It's finally when she has sex with Billy and the killer murders all her loved ones that she finally awakens to become the final girl she always wanted to be. A strong woman who has healed her wounds and now looks to the dawn with genuine optimism.
The question now is: Why are both women alive at the end?
Simple: There always has to be a final girl. There always has to be the possibility of a sequel, which is why the film ends with Kris saying the line from one of the movies, "It's not over, you know. He's still there," as if the killer himself were already anticipating that he's going to create another film. A wonderful meta commentary.
In the end, this is a film that, like the director's previous work, isn't for everyone.
But I'm also surprised by Jane's awareness of the LGBT community in film. I mean, even in the Zoom call, there's a "queer assistant." It's the director mocking how the community, even though it's much more accepted today, is still more of a form of inclusion by a white, idiotic person who just wants to earn a medal.
If you like films with Lynchian elements, this one is highly recommended; it's a two-hour bizarre romp.