A camp slasher homage that gets an A for effort, but doesn't really deliver thrills or chills
Hell of a Summer has a pretty neat origin story: Finn Wolfhard (most famously Mike from Stranger Things) and Billy Bryk became close while filming Ghostbusters: Afterlife, realized they both shared a love of horror movies, and decided to write and direct one together. Both in their early 20s, Wolfhard and Bryk have done an admirable job of creating a horror/comedy with style despite being so young. I'm impressed with the cinematography, tone, and casting with Hell of a Summer, and to its credit, it's a breezy hour and twenty-eight minutes long, managing to get in there, tell its story, then wrap things up neatly.
The story is a pretty familiar one to lovers of the camp slasher genre: A group of newly appointed young camp counselors show up early at Camp Pineway, and as they party and hookup before the campers arrive, an evil killer stalks them slowly and methodically one by one. There's even a nerdy outcast/red herring named Jason, in a wink to the audience. He's 24, a loser, and by all accounts the one everyone thinks is the bad guy. He's not though, but it keeps the plot moving at a brisk clip. The mask that the killer chooses to use, as this is super important in any slasher film, is a halloween devil mask. Not terribly original, but it's a hallmark of the genre. Kids probably won't be buying it in Halloween stores in the same way they flock to Ghostface or Freddy, though.
I love a camp slasher, from the original Friday the 13th to Sleepaway Camp — heck, I even love any glimpse into a spend-the-night camp, especially the masterpiece that is Wet Hot American Summer. Hell of a Summer strives to match the camp vibes of its inspiration, but for me somehow falls a bit flat. Apart from a swimming scene and one Chekhov's bow-and-arrow, the action could have taken place anywhere. The movie is set in the present, but there technology seems slightly out of date — cathode ray tube TVs abound, though that could be just because camps tend to be lost in time usually and contain a collection of dusty old tech that's been passed down through the ages.
In terms of tone, it's definitely got the same sort of cynical Gen Z sense of humor that Bodies Bodies Bodies has. One kill scene revolves around a counselor's severe nut allergy and a jar of unopened peanut butter. There are a few interesting deaths, but a surprising number actually occur off screen, which is a bit strange for an R-rated movie. There are several very funny parts, and I laughed out loud multiple times. It seems Wolfhard and Bryk are very self-aware of their generation, and they make running gags of veganism, online popularity, and more. The usual trope of teens-hooking-up-and-then-dying is still there, but it's much more progressive than its horror movie forebears. There's wild tales of sex, but consent and equality come into play in a way that the 1980s could never.
Cribbing from Scream, the killers are not paranormal or deranged, but simply sociopathic seekers of social media fame. We've seen this before, of course, and I wish the bad guys had been a little more interesting. The one thing missing from this film is a sense of dread — the kills happen very quickly and with very little build up, which is a key part of making the audience squirm. Contrast this with last year's excellent In A Violent Nature, which is told almost entirely through the killer's eyes in real time. That one managed to put a new spin on the genre, and it was groundbreaking in its approach. It also had some incredibly creative and disturbing kill scenes, which counts for a lot in a genre known for gore.
All in all, it's a fine first film for these two young men, but it's not one that is going to enter the canon, I'm afraid.
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The Math
Score: 5/10
POSTED BY: Haley Zapal, NoaF contributor and lawyer-turned-copywriter living in Atlanta, Georgia. A co-host of Hugo Award-winning podcast Hugo, Girl!, she posts on Instagram as @cestlahaley. She loves nautical fiction, growing corn and giving them pun names like Timothee Chalamaize, and thinking about fried chicken.