Until I moved into the suburbs at the end of middle school, I didn’t know that children could spend summers away from home. And when I did find out, I didn’t think that they would do it willingly. I thought it was strange that people would want to spend their vacations training for something. Even if it’s considered a moonshot probability of being a professional soccer player, it seemed like summer camp was like preschool indoctrinated for those who have chosen their designated careers.

But at that time, I had barely started to comprehend the superfluous ways one could spend money if one had it. I also was not an achieving child, whereas others, especially the theater kid, are able to pursue a specific form of overachievement.  To this day, in any group setting, you wouldn’t catch me exhibiting any form of leadership behavior. The theater kid, however, will leap at the chance to contribute their talents and participation to the task at hand. Yes, maybe it’s easy to make fun of the theater kid but the stark differences standing between me and them are an actual reflection on my own issues concerning group-problem-solving and relatively dead-end aspirations. That’s probably why the theater kid is a bit mythical to me and perhaps why Theater Camp is able to go beyond stereotypes of the theater kid to make a story more universally grounded. I’m sure theater kids would enjoy the movie, but people who understand the primitive desperation in chasing a dream would also relate to that energy. Barbie is a given fan, but with my whole chest, I believe Oppenheimer would get it.

Unsurprisingly, there is a self-awareness in the setup of Theater Camp, a directorial collaboration between actress Molly Gordon and music video director Nick Lieberman. Based off a script also written with Broadway stars Ben Platt and Noah Galvin, the film plants us on the campgrounds of AdirondACTS in upper New York. Every year, kids are invited to perform an original musical cooked up by the music teacher Rebecca-Diane (Gordon) and stage instructor Amos (Platt). Other staff members include tech supervisor Glenn (Galvin), costume designer Gigi (Owen Thiele), and choreographer Clive (Nathan Lee Graham). However, the more classic form of adults are Joan (Amy Sedaris) and Rita (Caroline Aaron), who are owners of the camp and spend their time recruiting the incoming cohort for the summer.

Theater Camp is formatted as a mockumentary, which decides to continue filming when Joan falls into a seizure-induced coma at the beginning of the film. In terms of motive or angle, very little is revealed from the silent, faceless documentarians who only intercept with title cards that explain an ongoing scene or why a character did something. One might think that the audience surrogates for the non-theater-kid could be Troy (Joan’s frat-influencer son who takes over the camp’s daily operations during his mother’s medical leave, played by Jimmy Tatro), Caroline (bank representative wishing to buy and tear down the financially-deteriorating camp, played by Patti Harrison), or Janet (perhaps the only on-screen interloper who lies about her experience to secure a spot as an instructor, played by Ayo Edebiri). As it turns out, none of these fools bring normalcy to the drama shitshow. But as entertainers of the circus, everyone is right where they belong.

The focus of the theater kid aura is not on the children, who are actually kinda cute/talented/have their diva-autonomy honed to a feasible level, but on the teachers, who are long-exposed products of this energy. If you are ever lucky to find yourself in a workplace where co-workers are of a similar age group with the same humor or interests, it can make a job feel so identity-affirming and fun. Similarly, the energy of AdirondACTS run on a feedback loop of dedication and snark. Every child and teacher in the room will break out in an Oklahoma! song with a participatory vigor that PhD professors struggle to extract from their college students. Judgment is passed around like a hot potato, but even if the language or the passion seems alien, no one in the camp is called out for being too much or different. When a kid decides to audition with a Post Malone song, the only annoyance the teachers display was towards a previously disinterested Troy, who excitedly had jumped out of his seat and started to shout out song requests.

In fact, the enemy is indifference. Despite not totally understanding theater life, Troy tries to fight off Caroline’s cold push for foreclosure. Amos starts to develop anger towards Rebecca-Diane when her unexplained absence during nightly performances and the lack of the musical finale become evident. However, the tension from these issues feels like small hurdles compared to the glaring issue: finishing the musical (which, by the way, is dedicated to the life of Joan, which is a wonderful treat to behold on opening night). Like many of our occupational mockumentaries, Theater Camp will have its share of quirky characters and moments of weak behavior (there are two instances where the teachers discuss the sexual prowess of a couple of kids in relation to a role, which I choose to believe as a way to reveal how removed these guys are).

Truth be told, this is one of the most hilarious films this year. It works as poking fun at itself while being able to display nuggets of sympathy and concern for the characters. Why wouldn’t we want the best for Troy, who is just trying to keep his mother’s dreams alive? Why shouldn’t Janet teach stage combat even if she’s not qualified to do so? Why can Gigi proclaim that the children will be learning about fashion history before proceeding to rate a slew of historical portraits’ outfits (“How many times can you show your clavicle? It’s once a week.”), making it seem both useful and unhelpful? Why, in one of the best scenes, does Rebecca-Diane dramatically whisper “She’s using,” about a crying child before she and Amos storm the stage and confiscate a “tear stick,” reprimanding the child for the potential dependence of such a performance enhancer? Whatever they’re having, I don’t want any of it. But I’ll be in the front row to watch it go down.

Theater Camp
2023
dir. Molly Gordon and Nick Lieberman
94 min.

Now playing at Coolidge Corner Theatre