“Dear Mom and Dad, I’ve been at Sleepaway
Camp for almost three weeks. And I’m getting very scared…”
So
begins the theatrical trailer for an obscure, unassuming entry in the pantheon
of slasher films from the 1980’s, Sleepaway
Camp (1983).
Michael
Myers. Jason Voorhees. Freddy Krueger. Everyone knows the heavy hitters. Halloween (1978), Friday the 13th (1980), and A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) are such pop culture phenomena
that anyone would instantly recognize the hockey mask or glove with knives for
fingers.
For the
casual viewer, these films are about all there is for the slasher subgenre of
horror. But for fans of this sort of thing, the early to mid 80’s offer an
extensive, if somewhat unknown catalogue of backwoods butchers, suburban
stalkers, and high school hackers.
One setting in particular stands
out because of its ideal suitability to the genre: summer camp. Friday the 13th was the first
to employ this template, and to great success. The isolation from civilized
society combined with the eeriness of the empty woods certainly provides an
effective setting for the “and then there
were none”-styled mystery of slasher films. Another advantage of the summer
camp location is its familiarity. Every teenager in America knows what going to
camp is like; an experience that hasn’t changed much in the past thirty years.
This inevitably results in a terrifying identification on the part of the
audience, one that hits right in the childhood.
There
are plenty of great examples of slasher pictures that took us to camp besides Friday the 13th. The Burning (1981) is a notable effort.
It featured special effects by Friday’s
Tom Savini, and showcased breakout roles for actors Jason Alexander (Seinfeld) and Fisher Stevens (Short Circuit), and actress Holly Hunter
(Thirteen). The film also built the
careers of the Weinstein brothers and their new independent production company
Miramax, much in the same way A Nightmare
on Elm Street would for New Line Pictures just a few years later.
Another
example, Madman (1982), is a lesser
known entry in the stalk-n-slash canon. Practically a student production, the
film is a take on the ghost stories and cautionary campfire tales that tend to
permeate the teen culture at summer camps. A young camper disrespects the name
of a local urban legend, Madman Marz, and causes the supernatural slayer to
invade the woods once again.
But of all the films that take
on this setting, perhaps none grasp the attitude, experience, trials and
tribulations of camp quite as well as director Robert Hiltzik’s Sleepaway Camp.
Sleepaway Camp is probably best known for its remarkably inspired
ending that still manages to shock audiences today. Without spoiling anything
for first time viewers, the continued power of the finale lies both in its
ingenuity, and a profound relevance that has only become greater since the
film’s release over thirty years ago.
It’s also just crazy as hell.
But you’ll have to watch it for
yourself to find out what I mean.
In truth, it’s a bit of a shame that
Sleepaway Camp owes its notoriety to
that one spectacular final frame, because the journey it takes to get to that
point proves to be one of the most entertaining and thought provoking movies of
its kind.
One of the key weaknesses of
other camp-oriented flicks is the distinct lack of… campers. In The Burning the counselors don’t look
any older than their supposed teens, an obvious attempt at solving the problem
of reconciling the ages of the characters with requirements of the film’s
content. Unfortunately this makes trying to tell them apart quickly begin to
feel pointless. The Friday films
don’t feature campers at all until the sixth installment Jason Lives (1986). And even then, the script takes great pains to
assure the audience the young’uns are never truly in danger.
Sleepaway Camp roundly dismisses both such notions by casting
thirteen year-olds with real thirteen year-olds and summarily picking them off
in ways more creative than Jason Voorhees could ever come up with.
It would be tempting to
criticize the acting abilities on display. But when considering the actual ages
of most the actors, their talent becomes widely apparent. Felissa Rose was only
13 when she gave her career-defining performance as Angela, the confused,
traumatized survivor of a camp boating accident where she lost both her father
and sibling. And Jonathan Tiersten, in the role of Angela’s cousin Ricky,
fifteen.
Rose, Tiersten, and their
supporting cast act just like kids because they are kids, a fact that proves to be one of Sleepaway Camp’s greatest strengths. Boys chase girls, girls chase
boys. They bully and fight each other for social supremacy. They have mouths
that would make a sailor blush because they think swearing makes them seem
older and cooler, and in the end they aren’t fooling anyone. All of this goes a
long way towards creating an atmosphere of realism, something rarely grasped in
a genre about indestructible masked serial killers.
Camp Arawak, located in what we
assume is upstate New York (accents don’t lie, and the production was in fact
shot there), is an instantly recognizable personification of summer camps
everywhere. All the benchmarks are there: guys vs girls cabins, mess/rec hall,
a boundary of evergreen woods, and of course a sparkling blue lake. Since it
really was a summer camp that director Robert Hiltzik had visited in his youth,
all he had to do was fill it with rowdy kids and a few tired counselors for it
to spring to life in convincing fashion!
Against this backdrop is a
bizarre murder mystery that is more akin to a camp legend- a fairytale- than a
horror film. In fact, in the zany sequel Sleepaway
Camp II: Unhappy Campers (1989), that is exactly what the story has become.
Rather than photogenic teens being mercilessly done away with one by one for
having sex, smoking pot, or partying too much, Sleepaway Camp’s victims are really reaping what they have sown. The
question starts to be, “who are the real victims here?” It’s certainly hard to
feel bad when these obnoxious bullies get their just desserts. We watch Angela,
and other characters such as the nerdy Mozart, get hassled and tormented by the
older or more popular campers, who then expire at the hands of… someone. One of
the clues we are given that the killer is a camper themselves are the progressively
creative, yet juvenile ways these bullies are dispatched. From boiling water,
to bees, to a curling iron shoved somewhere God never intended, this is far
from your typical hack’n’slash.
The special make-up effects bear
the signs of a low budget, even for 1983, but that doesn’t diminish their
impact. The camera lenses every moment carefully, much more carefully than the
ramshackle method employed in the likes of Friday
the 13th, The Prowler
(1981), or My Bloody Valentine (1981).
The frame is sparing, so that we only glimpse just enough of every gruesomely
satisfying moment.
The glue that holds all the
mayhem together is Angela’s blossoming relationship with Paul, her cousin
Ricky’s best friend. He is one of the few who is kind to her, and the first one
to help her come out of her shell enough to talk at all. Watching their romance
grow in the face of her personal trauma is really the core of the film, and all
of the bullying and death stands pretty much on the periphery of the goings on.
Their interactions together are
when the story is at its best. We learn more about Angela’s psychological
hang-ups, while Paul gamely sticks with her (for the most part) even as their
relationship causes him to painfully transition from popular to pariah. And although
we know on some level that this Romeo and Juliet love affair must be doomed from
the start, it is impossible not to root for the emerging couple.
Hiltzik also uses the duo to convey
some of the most powerful social commentary in the slasher movie subgenre.
Sexual confusion, subliminal conditioning, and post-traumatic stress are all
deeply explored through Angela’s damaged psyche, and Paul’s attempts to show
her love and affection regardless of her problems. This makes the film, and
especially the ending, all the more shocking, affecting, and profound by the
time the credits roll.
Of course, no discussion of Sleepaway Camp would be complete without
some mention of how… weird it is.
The obvious standout is Angela’s
aunt, who is nothing short of a loon. Actress Desiree Gould charges full speed
ahead into the most befuddling character of the film. Her awkward dialogue,
garish makeup, and gloriously hammy delivery are guaranteed to leave you either
in fits of laughter or quizzically scratching your head. It’s no wonder Angela
has so many issues, but it really begs the question- how did Ricky turn out so
normal with a mother like that?
But Aunt Martha isn’t the only
character more than a little off-kilter. Arty the head cook is a pedophile
whose predilection for young campers seems to be blithely accepted by his
coworkers. A dozen guys are ditched by the girls and decide go skinny dipping
with each other anyway. And the audience is asked to simply accept that young,
nubile counselor Meg would be in any way remotely attracted to an old-as-dirt
camp director?
The oddity of the characters is
matched pound for pound by the utterly jaw-dropping dialogue. At times the
exchanges can be rather witty:
“Eat shit and die Ricky!”
“Eat shit and live Bill…”
At other times, it makes no
sense whatsoever: “Yeah, she’s a real carpenter’s dream. Flat as a board and
needs a screw!”
In the end, these eccentricities
make the film all the more endearing. Sleepaway
Camp is for everyone who craves something just a little bit more special
than the average horror picture. I first saw it when I was just discovering my
love for horror films, slashers in particular. I was snapping up every flick I
could with an insatiable, ravenous appetite for karo syrup and prosthetics on
the promise of gratuitous practical effects bloodshed. I had read online about
the infamous ending and couldn’t wait to see it for myself. By the time the
final frame graced the screen, I was caught by surprise in spite of knowing
what to expect. I had become so engrossed in the story, characters, the obvious
energy and heart put into the production.
Sleepaway Camp is much more than the sum of it’s *ahem* parts. And if you want to discover it
for yourself, meet me at the waterfront
after the social.
